Page 9 of Control Freak
With one final breath, I threw open the door and got out.
“Everything going okay with that Honda?” I asked gruffly. “I thought you were finishing it up yesterday.”
Bailey rolled his eyes at my micromanaging. “Yeah, it’s done. Just waiting for the owner to pick it up.”
“Good.” I strode into the garage, the scent of motor oil familiar and comforting. “Where’s Gray?”
“I don’t know.”
I cast a look at the two motorcycles in various states of repair on the far side of the garage. “He better not be fucking around with Emory,” I grumbled.
Bailey snorted. “Would you rather they went at it all night when we’re trying to sleep?”
“No, but those bikes won’t fix themselves. You should have told him to stay.”
Bailey shrugged. “I’m not his keeper.”
“Apparently, that’s my job,” I muttered.
“It doesn’t have to be. You could just trust us to do what needs to be done.”
I chuckled. Ah, trust. That was a tricky word for me. I trusted my brothers, sure. But someone had to manage the business and keep everything on track. Otherwise, we’d slip into chaos, make mistakes, and lose business.
My fingers itched to text Gray and lecture him. I went into my office and shut the door.
My knee jiggled, transmitting my nervous energy. I picked up my cell phone. Put it down. Picked it up again.
Finally, I tapped out a text.
Holden:
Can’t wait to see you tonight.
Shiloh:
Same here! I’ll be waiting with bells on.
Holden:
Literally?
Shiloh:
Ha! You never know.
I smiled, some of the tension in my shoulders easing. Shiloh was always so happy and easygoing. He made it easy for me to shed the anxiety that clawed at my insides so often. I’d initially known him only asShyGuy, but we’d eventually shared our names and little details about our lives.
Holden:
Tell me about your day.
Shiloh:
Not much to tell. I’m on vacation from the day job. Been binging Netflix. Getting my fill of drrrraaaamma!
He added a drama llama GIF that made me smile before going on a spiel about adultery, betrayal, and characters coming back to life that had me laughing. The idea of Shiloh sitting around eating too many chips in front of the TV was surreal. It was difficult for me to picture him in his ordinary day-to-day activities because he was always in sensual mode on camera.
We texted enough that Iknewhe was a regular guy, just like me, but it was still tough to reconcile the sexy camboy on-screen with the real person I talked to every week.
