Page 14 of Grease Monkey
@GreaseMonkey69:And hot.
I tap my cell to my bottom lip before adding…
@GreaseMonkey69:Now you’ve seen my come face, when do I get to see yours?
“And that look screams you’re up to no good, Son.”
My eyes flick off my phone and up to my dad. “Huh?”
He raises one of his brows in that annoying way only some people can, just like the Rock in his WWE days. But unlike the Rock, Dad’s not asking if I can smell what he’s cooking. He’s looking at me like he’s saying,I’m not fucking dumb,and he doles that out not nearly enough to my brothers as he does to me. I slip my phone back into my pocket and take my hat off, wiping the sweat gathering at the band.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, sounding like a petulant child as I bend down and rummage in the toolbox, anything to avoid eye contact. Dad’s big hand slaps mine out of the way as he reaches for atorque wrench, hitting it into my palm with a crack as he smiles smugly. The way he can say a thousand words with one look alone is infuriating as hell.
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes and turning to my car to tighten the pully. Eventually, Dad nudges me out of the way, checking over the work I’d done before he came out, grunting words of approval as he barely has to redo a thing. Lifting a cloth I had draped over the hood, I wipe my hands and watch my dad at work. This right here is why I moved with my folks. Dad might like his ego inflated, but he’s earned it.
“All I’m saying is…” he begins, his voice muffled as he speaks into the car.
Seriously? He’s like a puppy with a bone.
“You haven’t said a damn thing. You keeplookingat me,” I say through clenched teeth. “There is nothing you could possibly say anyway. Haven’t you realized that we’re from different worlds? Her mom would never think I’m good enough for her daughter, so why bother?”
Dad swings the wrench around and points it at me. “She’d be fucking lucky to have you, Teddy. Don’t let something as fucking stupid asclassstop you from going after what you want. Her folks don’t like you, fuck ’em. It’s her you’re with, not her mom.”
“Easy there, big guy,” I say with a humorless laugh as tension seeps from my jaw. I snatch the wrench out of his hand before he damages my baby, holding it by my side. “Thanks for defending my honor or whatever, but you’re getting ahead of yourself. Can we drop it, please? Ana and I won’t be happening. No girlfriends, remember?”
Dad grunts just as Mom appears from the house, sidling up to his side and making him forget about his agitation.
“How are my boys getting on?” she asks, running her hand up his back. Growling, he playfully grabs her, swatting her ass and pulling her into his chest. They are the most open PDA couple I’ve ever seen, kissing like a pair of goddamn teenagers every chance they get. I swear I’ll need therapy by the time I’m in my thirties. Noisily, I drop the wrench into the toolbox, trying to make it painfully clear that their son is still here and doesn’t want to witness their nauseating show of how much they love each other.
Mom whacks Dad’s chest, trying to wriggle out of his hold as she laughs. “You’re getting oil on my jeans.”
Dad grins and plants his huge hands on her ass, hauling her closer, nuzzling at her neck.
“Gross. I’m standing right here.”
Dad pouts like an overgrown baby when Mom swats him again. She turns in his loosened hold, sinking into his chest as he possessively grips her hip. Arching a brow, she asks, “What’s this I heard about no girlfriends?”
I frown, not realizing she heard me say that.
“Your mom’s got the hearing of a hawk,” Dad says, leaning down to kiss her shoulder.
“Jesus, Dad, can you just not?” I groan, flicking a rusted bolt from the ground at him.
He bats it away and shrugs. “Can’t help it, Teddy. When you get a knockout like your mom here, you’ll barely be able to keep your hands off her too.”
Mom elbows his stomach in mock chastisement, pulling a face, then smiles softly. “Tell me, honey, why the sudden change of heart about girls… wait?” She inhales sharply, her eyes the same shade as mine, growing wide with excitement. “Is this…? Are you… coming out?”
My hands fly to my face, and I rub up and down, exasperated. “Fucking hell, Mom.”
“What? You know we will love you no matter what, Teddy,” she says warmly, and I know she’s thinking back to when Bowie came out. He’d kept his sexuality a secret for four years after discovering he was attracted to guys, too scared to tell our parents in case they disapproved. Mom cried because he had lived in fear for so long, but was thrilled that he could finally be the person he was always meant to be.
“I’m not gay, Mom. I like pu—girls, but not enough for a relationship.” Getting my own shop is my first love. Ana’s face pops back into my subconscious and at this rate, I’m thinking she will never leave it.
Mom hums skeptically, then throws her head back against Dad’s chest. “I’m never going to be a nana.”
Why are my parents so damn dramatic all the time?
Ignoring her, I nudge the lid of the toolbox closed with my foot. “Well, one of your other sons will need to get to work on that.”
