Page 11 of Fire Me Up
Dylan
“The fuck is that?” Cash’s deep, rumbly voice was instantly recognizable. It always sounded scratchy, like he was out of practice with speaking, which I suppose he was. I stood up, bumping my head on the door frame I’d just built.
“Fuck. Ow.” Rubbing my head, I glanced over to see Cash standing there with my boss, Marcus, one of the two founders of the Front Range Motorcycle Collective.
“A cage in the FRMC?” Marcus asked. “Bit too kinky even for us, don’t you think?”
I stepped back, looking at the new cat enclosure I’d built against the back wall of the FRMC’s instruction shop, frowning. “It’s for cats.”
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “Do we get a lot of cats taking motorcycle repair classes?”
That was all it took for me to realize just how unhinged my current project was. It had all started early this morning, when I’d woken from a disturbingly realistic nightmare about Gael’scat getting into some toxic coolant. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the furry menace meeting his untimely death. So I’d pulled out my phone and started searching for options that would keep a cat safe and happy.
“Um, no. It’s more like, in case our students have, you know. Cats. Or small pets. It would work for a ferret, too.”
One of Cash’s eyebrows quirked up.
“A ferret?” Marcus asked, lips twitching.
I rubbed my hands over my face with a groan. “You know me. When I get stuck on something, this happens.” I circled the enclosure, starting to feel a little panicky. “Do you think I have enough time before class to disassemble and chuck this whole thing before he sees it?”
“So there’s a guy,” Marcus said, finally breaking into a smile. “That explains a lot.”
“What? No, this isn’t about Liv’s brother. I was worried the cat might get into dangerous chemicals.”
“Why didn’t you just tell the student not to bring his cat to class?”
Cash had his phone out, scrolling to something. He flipped it over and showed it to Marcus, who threw back his head and laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Liv’s brother is hot as hell, which explains a lot. But next time, maybe check in with us before you go all ADHD hyperfocus and do something unhinged.”
I glanced at the cat enclosure. “It’s not that unhinged.”
“Is that a climbing gym?” Marcus asked.
“Bacon needs his exercise!” I protested, eyeing the climbing gym. There were also several perches at different heights, a scratching post, three hammocks, a water and food station, and, tucked away in a box on the bottom, a litter box.
Marcus was still laughing as he led Cash back out of the shop.
Fuck, I’d lost my goddamn mind. Sighing, I knelt on the floor and started to pack up my tools, realizing pretty quickly that I’d also lost my goddamn screwdriver.
The door to the workshop creaked open, and I stood so fast, I nearly hit my head again.
“Dylan? Sorry, am I too early?” Gael stood in the doorway, Bacon peeking out of a backpack on his shoulder. My heart jumped into my throat as I took him in.
He wore a simple blue T-shirt that stretched across his chest and faded jeans that hugged his thighs in all the right ways. The bandage on his arm was gone. I had the strangest urge to check his gunshot wound. And maybe to kiss his injury better.
“No, uh, perfect timing, actually.” I hopped down from the stool, self-conscious about my project. “I was just finishing something up.”
Gael’s eyes followed mine to the cat enclosure, and his expression morphed from confusion to surprise. “Is that… did you build that?”
“Yeah, I thought maybe Bacon might like a safe space to hang out during class. It’ll keep him from getting into any shop chemicals or breaking any tools. Or other pets. Other pets could use it, too.” Yep, that sounded perfectly logical and not at all deranged.
His eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. I couldn’t tell how hard he was judging me.
“This way, when you’re not able to watch him, he can lounge in the enclosure and be safe from licking up any antifreeze.” I shuddered as a flashback of my dream popped up in my mind. “It’s practical for everyone. Bacon just made me think of it, that’s all.”
