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“So do I, sweetheart.” He leans in. “And I’m a stubborn guy. I can do this all day.” A curl of something shivers through me.
“Here.” He steps forward and loops it around my waist, then ties the sleeves together. This close, I can smell … motor oil … aftershave … sweat … and I don’t hate it. It speaks to long days working with his hands, surrounded by cars, getting filthy …
Then he’s gone, leaving me with his warm jacket around my waist and a shop that smells like motor oil and … possibility.
“You know, most people at least try to hide when they’re eye-fucking someone.”
He flips me off. “Friday?” “That’s my hookup night.” “Meet at eight at Killer Brew.” My smile is getting bigger by the second. “You gonna bring me flowers?”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll even pay.” “Will you put out?” “Not a chance.” I laugh. “Friday it is.” “See you then.” “Bye … sweetheart.”
“I’m like herpes. Once you have me, there’s no turning back.” I chuckle as I walk away. “Do you hear yourself sometimes?” “All the time. I love the sound of my own voice.”
“Can’t cheat when there are no rules.” I prop my chin on my palm and chance a quick look back at the girls. “Why do I get the feeling you live by those words?” “I could confirm or deny, but I think it’d be more fun to stick around and find out.”
“Iusedtobeastripper.” Ford blinks at me. His mouth slowly inches open. “Come again?” “I used to be a—” “Oh no, I got that. I mean, I think I’m about to come again.” He pulls a face and reaches down between his legs. “Fuck me, that’s hot.”
Griff: So … date with Ford, huh? Orson: Dammit, Art! Ignore him. It was a date. Orson: WASN’T. I meant wasn’t. Payne: … Orson: I meant wasn’t! Fucking autocorrect. We just met up for dinner and kinks. Orson: DRINKS! Art: Oh, this is gold. Orson: You know what, I don’t need to explain myself.
“Those are buds. The stick part is a stem—if you call it a shaft, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m glad I came this morning.” And I can’t bring myself to respond to that with anything other than the truth. “Yeah, me too.” Ford’s smile turns wicked. “I didn’t realize you cared that much about my sex life.” Of course. “Should have known that’s what you meant.” “Uh-huh. And now I can check out your ass every time you bend over without getting boned up.” My head falls back on a laugh. “Still straight, Ford.” “Still gay, Orson.”
“I … I really like you, and I don’t want you getting the wrong idea,” I say in a rush. “So you’ve said. You never had friends before, Orson? Sometimes people just like to hang out with people.” “Well, that makes sense considering I like to hang out with you.” Ford holds out his hands. “See? I’m doing us both a favor by being here. You’re welcome.”
“I’d love that.” His sincerity catches me off guard. “Another date. Careful, Orson. You’ll be falling for me before long.”
“How does he make you feel?” Thinking of Orson, picturing his face and the way my cheeks hurt whenever we’re together, makes my entire body prickle with awareness. “Alive.”
“I’d rather show you.” “It’s your dick, isn’t it?” “Nah, sweetheart. You’ll only get to see that if you ask really nicely.”
“You really inviting me to touch you?” “Do you want to?” I sneer. “That’s like asking a thirsty man if he wants water.”
