Repaired

by Melissa Collins

  After clearing my throat, in some vain attempt at finding my voice, I managed a simple, “Hey.”

  Parker looked down at my hand, extended for him to shake, with frustration that bordered on anger. It wasn’t lost on me that he was constantly reining in his emotions when he was around me. Tracking his gaze, I realized my hand was still dotted with specs of grease, though not enough that it should warrant that look.

  He nodded his hello, not uttering a word. Shame forced me to tuck my hand into my pocket and walk him toward his car.

  “Flat’s been changed,” I explained, squatting down to the new tire. “New rim and the damage to the under carriage is all taken care of, too.”

  “I didn’t ask for it to be cleaned and detailed.” His voice was harsh, stressed even.

  Completely thrown off guard by his blunt comment, I turned on my heel and walked us toward the office portion of the shop.

  Once inside, I slid his bill across the counter. His eyes were glued to the detailed bill, but mine were glued to his chiseled face. His jaw ticked with an anger, which I couldn’t put my finger on. When he chewed on his lower lip, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts clearly. The only sound racing through my ears was that of my pounding blood.

  “An oil change?” He looked up at me with tense eyes.

  “Yeah, but there’s no charge.” Pointing to the item on the list, I traced my finger to the side of the bill where all the prices were listed. “You were due for one and since I was stuck here, I needed something to keep myself busy.” The faraway look in his eyes suggested he hadn’t heard a word I’d just said.

  “Why’d you do all of this?” His voice was softer, a touch less angry. “You didn’t have to.”

  The blood thrummed in my ears even louder. Whatever hard shell he’d had on out at his car moments earlier, was cracking a little. Bits of himself he seemed to guard carefully were falling away like peeling paint, scattering across the floor.

  Shrugging, I responded, “Yeah, I know. Was just trying to be nice since you were spending so much.”

  The anger in his face returned with a vengeance, pulling tight lines in the corners of his eyes. Through clenched teeth, he gritted out, “I told you not to worry about the fucking money.”

  His voice made my stomach twist in knots, and not simply because he was angry with me. The power, the control, the dominance of it all called to me on a level I spent years trying to cover up.

  “Here.” Sliding a pen across the counter to him, I tipped my chin down at the paper. “Just sign it. What’s done is done, so unless you want me to drain the oil and throw mud at your precious car, then I can’t take those things back.” Turning around to the binder where we kept the sales receipts, I muttered under my breath, “You know some people are just thankful when someone else does something nice for them.”

  When I turned back to the counter, Parker was holding the signed receipt in his hand, the anger absent from his eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted quietly.

  Reaching for the paper, Parker made a very obvious move, grazing his fingers against mine as the sheet of paper glided like silk passing from his hand to mine. At the simple touch, his shoulders relaxed, sinking at least an inch or two away from his ears.

  Gambling on the very obvious change in his demeanor, I took a chance and asked, “Is everything okay?”

  His full lips parted as he sighed. Completely mesmerized by his long fingers raking through his hair and pulling his sunglasses down, I found my mouth opening, too. He tucked the sunglasses into his opened collar, exposing a light dusting of hair which matched the color on his head.

  “If it’s about the car, I can charge you.” I laughed nervously. “I mean if taking your money will make you feel better, by all means, don’t let me get in your way.”

  “It’s not you who’s the problem. I just had a shit day, but that’s none of your concern.” His words were quite the opposite of the stern self-confidence he’d shown just moments before.

  When I didn’t respond with anything more than a laugh, Parker’s lips curled into a small smile, erasing the lines of tension, distorting his ocean blue eyes. He laughed along with me, softly, cautiously almost. “No, it’s okay, really. The car looks great. And I appreciate the oil change.” He handed me his credit card and I swiped it through the machine. Hypnotized by the masculine lines of his signature, I watched as he signed the receipt. “Besides,” he added, catching me staring at his hands. “It looks as if everything is squared away now.”

  After filing away his receipt, we both walked out of the office. His heat was a palpable force surrounding me as he stood behind me. Nervousness coursed through my body. My fingers shaking, I tried but failed to lock the door. The keys dropped to the ground, sending a billow of dust up into the air.

  Before I could grab them, Parker scooped them up. Dangling them in front of me, he smirked. “Everything okay?” He echoed my words from just a few minutes ago, but there was heat in his voice, gritty and raw somehow.

  “Yeah. Fine.” Snatching the keys from his hands, I quickly locked the door; thankful I didn’t drop the keys again.

  As we walked over to his BMW, an uncomfortable silence followed us. Rather than moving toward his own car, he escorted me to mine. “Can I pay you back with a beer?” Leaning against the glossy black paint of my car, he looked like a piece of artwork.

  “You don’t have to. I said I didn’t mind doing those things.” Averting my eyes from his, I fumbled with the lock on my door. The key slid in easily, but turning it became a herculean task, like pulling the sword from the stone. My brain and hand wouldn’t work together to complete the simplest of tasks.

  Parker’s hand fell to mine, steadying it. Heat passed between us as our eyes met over our joined hands. Relief washed over me as he spoke first, because for me speech was something that just wasn’t going to happen.

  “Fine. Then it won’t be to pay you back. I had a shit day and I could use a drink.” He pulled his hand back at his admission, running it through his hair. “Sorry,” he added, looking down at my hand, frozen where he’d left it. Honestly, I was afraid if I moved it, the heat of his touch would be gone forever. “I didn’t mean to . . .” His words trailed off as he jammed his hands into his front pockets—an action that pulled the front of his khakis even tighter against his groin. “Forget it. Thanks again. See you around.”

  On its own volition, my hand reached for his shoulder as he strode away from me. “Wait.” We faced each other again. Finding it impossible to do anything other than smile at him, I did just that. Angling my head down the block, I said, “There’s this place. Murray’s. It’s right down that way. We can grab a drink and some food there.” His torn look confused the fuck out of me since he’d just asked. Taking a chance on him, and on the physical spark I couldn’t possibly deny, I tried my best to convince him. “Let’s go have a drink and you can share some of your shit day with me.” He nodded and I added, “Besides it couldn’t possibly be worse than mine. Wait until I tell you all about this asshole and his BMW.”

  A genuine laugh bellowed from his chest and his mouth split into a full smile. More pieces of the paint peeled away and I found myself drawn to the man underneath. The more exposed he let himself become, the more exposed I wanted to be.

  “You want to just follow behind?” Sliding into my seat, I looked up at him.

  “Sure. Lead the way.” He stepped away from my car and I enjoyed every second of watching him walk to his car; his tight ass hypnotizing me as his hands did earlier.

  Talking to myself above the music filling the cabin of my car, I whispered, “No, Parker. If I have anything to say about it, you’ll lead the way.”

  Excitement like I hadn’t felt before accompanied me into my car. After I slid into my seat, I adjusted the rearview mirror, careful not to smudge the freshly cleaned glass. Taking a quick glance at myself, I was utterly shocked at the smile on my face. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I caught myself smiling l
ike that. And laughing, too. Ironically, that thought made me laugh once again.

  Before putting my sunglasses back on, I inspected the inside of the car. It was spotless. The only other time it looked like this was when I drove it away from the dealership. And here I was treating Liam like a piece of trash because he’d done something nice for me.

  But that was me; overreacting to even the smallest of things. Letting my pent-up anger and uneven temper take over before I could think better of it.

  Shaking away those thoughts, I chose to focus on the fact that despite being an ass, I wanted to spend more time with Liam. It wasn’t lost on me that he wanted the same thing, too. Maybe it was just because he wanted to grab dinner, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something more. I know I felt something when our fingers touched. Who knew what he felt, but I was determined to find out more as the night went on. Gay or not, there was no denying the spark-filled tension around us. But, if I had to put money on it, he was definitely swinging for the same team as me.

  Murray’s was a bar I’d passed quite a few times, but I’d never stopped in. The line of motorcycles in the parking lot was always a clear indication that it wasn’t my usual go-to for an after work drink. It definitely wasn’t a place my colleagues would suggest for a Thursday night happy hour. And it was this thought which made walking inside with Liam that much easier.

  The inside was dark, illuminated only by a few neon bar signs and a handful of flat-screen televisions lining the walls. Most of the crowd was too busy to take notice of us walking in. A few guys nodded their hellos at Liam as we walked toward the bar. I wasn’t dressed to the nines or anything, but I was definitely over dressed in this place. Casual defined the atmosphere and even though it was clear I was the new guy, I didn’t feel out of place. It was homey and comfortable, putting me at ease right away.

  “Look who the cat dragged in.” A high-pitched female voice pulled my attention away from the baseball game playing on the largest of the screens. She tapped her finger to her cheek, smiling at Liam the entire time.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Liam deflected her laughter, but I caught the hint of a warm smile on his face. Stepping up on the brass railing, Liam leaned over the bar to pop a kiss on her cheek.

  Holy fuck.

  Those jeans had to be custom made just for his ass. They clung to his round cheeks and muscular thighs, making my mouth go dry. His triceps flexed as he pushed himself up on the wooden top and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from his hard body. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. And for all intents and purposes, I was. He was in his element, not being thrown by my attitude or dickish ways.

  “Who’s this?” The woman’s voice pulled my attention away from Liam’s ass, but just barely. She’d caught me staring and seemed to be doing me a favor in distracting me before Liam found my gaze fixed to his ass.

  “Oh, this is Parker. Worked on his car earlier,” Liam explained as I approached the bar. “Parker, this is Drea.”

  “Worked on your car, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” She laughed. “Geez, I must be getting old.” She shooed away Liam’s harsh look. “Don’t you look at me like that, boy,” she joked before turning her attention to me.

  Barely able to contain my laughter at the way she’d affected Liam, I extended my hand to her. “Nice to meet you,” I greeted her cordially, shaking her hand.

  Liam’s voice cut through our formalities. “Can we get a pitcher of Bud and two burgers?” He turned his attention to me. “Does that work for you?”

  “Sure.” Nodding in agreement, I tucked my sunglasses into the collar of my shirt. His eyes followed my hand, lingering at the small space of exposed skin there.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Drea’s face twist in amusement at our exchange. “Okay, then go grab yourselves a seat and I’ll bring them right over. Lovely to meet you, Parker, who had his car worked on.” She laughed, unable to let go of her dirty little joke.

  “I like her,” I added as he turned away from the bar.

  “Yeah, well, give it some time. She’ll get under your skin like she’s done to mine.” As he slipped into the booth, he added, “She’s a good woman, though. Nicest I’ve ever met.” There was genuine affection in his words and it told me more about him than I thought he was willing to admit.

  Liam stretched his arms before folding them behind his head. He scanned the television behind my head and, seemingly satisfied with whatever he’d read there, he let his attention fall back to me. Shifting again, he leaned his forearms on the table in an easy gesture. Frankly, I was shocked at the quick change in his demeanor. From frazzled and uptight at the shop, he was clearly at home here. And despite Drea’s good-natured ribbing, he was at ease and comfortable.

  “So you’re a regular here?” Sadly, that was the lamest conversation starter I could come up with. So lame in fact, I actually rolled my eyes at myself.

  “You could say that. I was pretty much the stray they fed and couldn’t get rid of.” He chuckled, but looked up at the television again rather than at me. When he finally decided to look back at me, I think he was surprised to see my gaze hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe he could tell I was waiting on more of an explanation, or maybe he simply felt the need to share more on his own will. Either way, he said, “My ex and I came here years ago when we were just kids. We used to come here all the time.” He shrugged. “I guess it became a home away from home.”

  The food being placed in front of us, and Drea’s loud boom of laughter interrupted the would-be conversation. “Oh honey, don’t you fool yourself. This is your home. That shop is your home away from home. And your apartment—well, let’s see. I think that’s somewhere you just sleep.” She winked at Liam as she slid the pitcher and our glasses next to our plates. “Now, can I get you guys anything else?”

  “No thanks. Everything looks great.” She patted my shoulder as I grabbed for my drink.

  “Thanks, Drea.” Liam mimicked my movement, talking a large gulp of his beer. He moved the remainder of the pitcher to the other end of the table and reached for the ketchup. Before he could even dip his first fry, Drea was back at the table. Without even paying me any attention, she leaned down to whisper something in Liam’s ear. Then, like a wisp of smoke, she was gone.

  “What was that all about?” I asked around the rim of my glass.

  Liam said nothing, didn’t even look at me. It was almost as if I’d said my words only to myself. He looked over his shoulder, twisting in his seat awkwardly. When he turned back to face me, an odd look was painted on his face.

  Shooting a thumb in the direction he was just looking, he said, “She just wanted to warn me my ex is here. At the bar.”

  Following the path of his thumb, I looked behind him, but saw only one person sitting at the bar. Ignoring my instincts about his sexuality from earlier, I found myself looking for a woman, but all I saw was a man. Tall and built, dark black hair and tanned skin, he sat at the bar as if he owned the place. And if I was to believe Liam that they’d been coming here since they were kids, there was no reason to think otherwise. He was clearly as at home here as Liam was. The man caught me looking at him, but rather than shooting me a nasty look or one of intimidation as his size suggested he would, he simply raised his mug and tipped it at me in a greeting.

  “That’s Gabe,” Liam said as I was caught in the odd exchange.

  Liam waited, almost anxiously, for me to say something, anything. Not wanting to be rude, I tipped my chin in response to Gabe and then focused my attention back on the man sitting across from me. “Is it a problem I’m here with you?”

  “Nah, he’ll leave us alone. Probably just came to watch the game figuring I’d be here.” Stuffing his face with his burger, Liam put an end to that conversation. My own stomach growled and I dove into my plate of food.

  “So you’re gay?” My stupidly pointless question cut through the comfortable silence of our meal.

  Liam smiled up at me, wiping a napkin ov
er his mouth. Tossing his thumb back at Gabe once more, he laughed. “Nope. Gabe’s really a woman. I just like the burly type.”

  Shocked by his words, I looked back at the bar, only to be greeted by Gabe lifting his beer to me once more. Maybe I needed glasses or something, because if that was a woman, I’d surely missed something the first time.

  Liam laughed loudly, pulling my attention back to him. “You ass. God, I’d be afraid of a woman with a beard like that. Gabe is definitely a man, through and through.” Liam howled with laughter, amused by his own joke.

  Oddly enough, his last words grated on me somehow. Though I’d been duped by Liam, clearly the butt of his joke, I was more jealous than angry. At the same time, his joke put me at ease. It excited me beyond all reasoning, too. Not that I had a bad track record when it came to figuring out if a man I’d been interested in was gay, but I was on the fence about Liam. Maybe it was the awkwardness of our first encounter, or the nasty way I’d treated him that somehow clouded our interactions. But I was thrilled to learn I’d been right about his sexuality.

  Now, I just had to figure out a way to let him know about mine.

  Clearly misreading my silence as me being offended, Liam crossed his arms over his broad chest and shot me an uneasy look, one that pulled at the corners of his eyes and thinned his usually full lips. “Is that okay with you?” he said with a touch of uneasiness. “Because if it’s not–”

  Cutting him off mid-sentence, I couldn’t let him go on thinking him being gay made me angry. I’d been on the receiving end of that with my own father far too many times to ever be all right with making someone else feel the same way. “It’s perfectly fine with me, actually,” I admitted around the rim of my mug. Swallowing back the last of my beer, I kept my eyes locked on him.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed in the thick column of his neck—a neck I suddenly felt the urge to wrap my fingers around as I pulled him closer to me, lining his body up with mine. Liam leaned forward. Anxiety tightened his body as he waited for me to say something more.