Page 41 of Hard Tail
Chapter Thirteen
I spent a restless night plagued with excruciating dreams of Adam sucking me off in front of Matt, Jay and my mother. Matt and Jay weren’t paying much attention, being too busy excavating each other’s tonsils with their tongues, but Mum was staring with folded arms and narrowed eyes, occasionally muttering, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Timothy—show a little enthusiasm!”
Not surprisingly, I woke up headachey, exhausted, and limper than a piece of spaghetti that’d been boiled for a week. Wolverine wasn’t on the bed—I supposed all the tossing and turning had been too much for him. I briefly considered taking the day off sick—but I couldn’t do that to Jay. Or the customers, come to that—there were at least three people booked to come in and collect repaired bikes today.
It made me realise how cocooned from reality I’d been, in some ways, working for a large firm. Able to take a sickie any time I wanted to, confident there would be other people there able to take up the slack. If Jay—or I, as his stand-in—took a day off, that was a day’s sales gone and a dent in the customer goodwill. I was doubly impressed with the way he’d managed to stick it out, with only a day and a half off a week.
I dragged myself in to the shop and spent the morning practising fake smiles for the benefit of the endless stream of customers. Just after lunchtime, the door jangled—and admitted a welcome sight. “Matt!” I could feel my smile splitting my face. “Thought you were taking the day off—shouldn’t you be down in Brighton?”
Matt shrugged, grinning back at me. “Nah, we came back last night—well, you know, once the clubs shut. Steve’s gone to test drive a new car, so I thought I might as well come in and see how you were getting on.”
“Fine, really—but it’s great to see you.” I realised I was being a bit over-the-top, and tried to tone it down. Thankfully, Matt didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Had many new repairs in?”
“Four or five. I tried to be conservative on timescale, seeing as I couldn’t really tell what needed fixing.” I passed Matt the repairs book, and he gave it a quick scan.
“Looks all right to me—long as the ones in for a service don’t need anything major doing, we’ll be fine.” He smiled as he passed it back, and my heart felt a little lift.
“Are you staying?” I asked.
“Yeah, why not? Might as well make a start on some of these.” He didn’t head off out back immediately, though. “Did you do anything much last night?”
“No. I, er, stayed in. Watched TV. Something boring, can’t remember what it was. Er. Why don’t I show you where I put the bikes that came in?” God, why did I have to turn into a babbling idiot every time I tried to tell a lie? I was probably beetroot red as well. And Christ, how had I managed to forget Adam was Matt’s best mate? For all I knew, Adam had rung him straight up after our little encounter to give him a blow-by-blow account. So to speak.
It wasn’t like it’d have taken him all that long, given my embarrassing performance.
I marched into the back room, avoiding Matt’s gaze as if it had the power to turn me to stone, so I couldn’t tell if he was giving me a funny look or not. “Here they are—I’ve labelled them, so let me know if you have any trouble working out which one’s which.”
Still looking anywhere but at Matt, I hurried back to hide behind the till.
***
By six o’clock, I’d just about regained my composure. Matt hadn’t said any more about last night, or Adam, and he hadn’t been acting strangely around me either, so it seemed Adam wasn’t the sort to kiss and tell. Not that there had been an awful lot of kissing involved, butsuck and telljust sounded so, so wrong.
Matt had finished up and emerged from the back room, and I was just about to close up for the night when the bell jangled again. Sighing, I looked round—and froze.
It was Adam.
He loped in casually, hands swinging by his ankles. “’Lo, Matt. All right, Tim?”
I froze behind the counter. What the hell was I going to say to him? Especially with Matt here.
It turned out I didn’t have to say anything. To my utmost, cringing horror, Adam casually sauntered on up to the counter, sidled through the gap and, slinging one arm around my neck, pressed a sloppy, chewing-gum-flavoured kiss to my paralysed lips. I was too stunned to even react. As my panicked gaze darted over to Matt, I saw he had the same problem.
“Great night, warn’t it?” Adam must have caught sight of Matt’s eyes, which were currently rivalling the twenty-nine-inch wheels on the bike he was holding onto, possibly for support. “Got together with Tim at the Cock. He’s all right.” Having in two short sentences both outed me and damned me with faint praise, he turned back to speak to me. “Wanna go out for a curry?”
“I…” I couldn’t speak. All I could do was look at Matt’s soft brown eyes, desperate for some sign he didn’t think I was an utter wanker. In vain, as he was currently looking at me as if I’d just stripped stark bollock naked and announced my intention to enter for the world puppy-kicking championships.
Then he gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. “That’s great. That you’ve, um, got together. Look, I’d better go. Steve’ll be wondering where I am. You have a good time tonight.” He hurtled out of the shop, no doubt anxious to get back to the oh-so-perfect Steve.
My stomach twisted at the thought—but I was glad, after a moment, that he’d mentioned Steve. It helped me remember what was going on here. No matter how much I might want him, Matt wasn’t mine and in all likelihood never would be. After all, even if Steve fell under a bus tomorrow, would Matt really want to get together with a bloke who’d lied to him? Lied about his night out, about his sexuality—God, Matt probably doubted everything I’d ever told him right now.
I turned to Adam, who was still smiling away obliviously. He wasn’t all that bad-looking, really, if you didn’t mind freckles and a rather un-evolved appearance. And he was a decent sort of bloke. Plus, although I’d only had a pitifully short time to base my judgment on, he seemed pretty good at sucking cock. My trousers tightened at the thought. I could do a lot worse for my first tentative foray into the world of man-loving.
“Curry sounds great,” I said.
***
