by Andrew Grey
“The gyro place is on the left in a block or so,” Dean commented once they were moving, then made the turn. Before long, they were inside. Lee’s mouth watered.
He knew what he wanted, so he took a seat while Dean placed the orders and brought the food. He asked what Lee needed so he could manage his dinner on his own. Dean even remembered to get everything on separate plates.
“Is something wrong?” Lee asked when Dean grew quiet.
“I’m not sure, but I thought I saw someone out front watching.” Dean stood and left, leaving Lee alone. Thankfully Dean was back quickly and sat across from him again. “It was nothing, just a guy in a cowboy hat. Not the same guy.” Dean changed the subject, and they talked about the cars and what they thought they should do next, but since their plans were already set, the conversation didn’t last long.
“Dean….” Lee swallowed and sipped from his cup. “I have to ask you something. I’ve never been very good at things like this, and James said it was best to just come out and ask what I wanted to know, rather than to try to ferret out information and risk getting the signs wrong, like in some bad romantic comedy thing.” Man, he was nervous, and his mouth was running away with him at lightning speed.
“What do you want to know?” Dean asked.
“Where do you see this thing between us going? You’ve been really nice, and we’ve spent a lot of time together.” Lee was so afraid of being wrong. He and Dean had slept together and had mind-blowing sex and, well, he didn’t want to assume anything stupid. Dean had had sex with lots of guys, and it probably meant more to Lee than it did to Dean. The thing was, he had to know. “I know that you’ve had a lot more experience….” God, he was doing it again.
Dean took his hand, warmth spreading almost instantly up Lee’s arm to his chest. “What we did was special, and it wasn’t something I took lightly.”
“I see.” Lee pulled his hand back, because Dean’s words were starting to sound like a brushoff.
“I don’t think you do. Sometimes I wonder what you could possibly see in me. I’m an old, heart-shattered, broken-down mechanic who took three years to move on after letting an asshole hurt me deeply. You have everything going for you.”
Lee snorted even though he didn’t mean to. “Hello.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “Can’t see a fucking thing here.”
“So? That isn’t who you are. You can’t see—big deal. You’re still vibrant, smart, young, sexy, and incredibly fun to be around. And regardless, you’re stronger than you think. Hell, you’ll try just about anything. Yeah, there are times you’re tentative, but that’s basic survival. You have guts, and you show it every single day. And that’s attractive, no matter how you look at it.” Dean took his hand once again, and all of Lee’s attention centered on the warmth in his fingers. “I don’t know where things are going between us, honestly. But I want to ride it out as long as I can. I’d thought I understood where things were going between me and Chuck, but I had it all wrong. I don’t want to try to predict the future and make grand plans, not yet. It’s too early for both of us. But I do want to see where this goes.”
Lee sniffed and held still. “You do know that life with a guy who can’t see—”
“What I know is that Trevor has never been happier than since he met James. They fit together. Are there things that they don’t do because James can’t see? Probably. I don’t really see them as the kind of people who have movie nights. But then again, maybe they go to the theater, sit in the back, make out, and ignore the movie. I don’t know. But Trevor is happy, and whatever slight inconveniences James’s blindness might present, it’s nothing compared to how happy he makes Trevor. That’s what I want.”
Dean’s words flowed over Lee like a warm breeze. “I want that too.” But he was so afraid. James had gotten lucky when he found Trevor, and Lee had never considered himself a lucky guy. “Just so you know, I think I’m as scared as you are.”
Dean snickered and then laughed outright. “God, we’re quite a pair. How about we make a deal to just talk about stuff. Okay?”
“That what James is always telling me. That I can’t keep everything bottled up inside. I have to say something.”
“I think James is some sort of life guru,” Dean said.
Lee had to agree. James was like his hero. “I wanna be like him when I grow up,” Lee teased.
“How about if you be Lee when you grow up, because I think he’s pretty amazing.”
Dang. Lee felt his cheeks heating, and he always hated it when he blushed. But at that moment, he didn’t care. He could almost feel Dean looking at him, and he liked it. Being the center of Dean’s attention was pretty amazing. “I think we need to finish eating before this gets cold.”
Lee returned to eating his dinner, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
“Tomorrow is Saturday, so I thought….”
“We could go to the gym?” Lee asked. “Race was going to work with me on some self-defense after I warm up on the bag.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Dean must have leaned over the table, because he got a lot closer. “And I get to ogle you in your shorts.”
“Dean….” Lee blushed harder. “It’s not fair because I can’t do the same.”
“Well, maybe after we get done, you can look with your hands.” Dean’s voice got deeper, sexier, with rumbles and roughness that left nothing to the imagination. “I love it when you look with your hands.”
Lee shivered and nearly dropped his fork. Somehow he managed to hold on to it and not make a mess, which Lee considered a win. He had to push the idea out of his head, though, so he could finish eating his dinner. Once they had taken care of the trash, Dean drove him home.
“Hey, why don’t you ask your parents to join us for lunch at Ben’s before we hit the gym tomorrow?” Dean asked. “I’m going to win your mom over one way or another. You know, so you can look at me more often,” he added suggestively.
Lee just nodded. He didn’t trust himself to say anything at that moment.
When he walked in the door, there was still tension in the house from earlier in the week, but his mom seemed more herself, especially once they were all home.
“Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“For a few hours in the morning, and then Dean is taking me to the gym. I don’t think I’ll be home afterward.” He had been out all night with Dean before, and his mom had clicked her tongue when he came home. Lee was aware of her disapproval, but he ignored it. “By the way, Dean asked if you wanted to meet us at Ben’s for lunch tomorrow.”
“Was that really his idea?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Dean that we would love to.” His dad put his hands on Lee’s shoulders as he passed behind him. “Jane?”
It was a decision time for her. Lee turned to her, waiting.
“Tell Dean that your dad and I will be happy to join you two for lunch tomorrow.”
LEE SAT in the restaurant, having changed clothes in the office before he and Dean left.
“How are things going?” his dad asked. “Any progress on the car?”
“We started the process of pulling the engine out today. Scott and Lee convinced me that we should do that in order to completely restore the aluminum body,” Dean answered. “It’s probably the right thing to do, but I was really hoping to avoid it.”
“We’re going to work to fully clean up the engine while it’s out. It’ll give us access to places we couldn’t reach otherwise,” Lee explained as he hugged his mom and dad, then sat back down. “But it does mean the car is going to take more time and cost more in the end.”
“Doesn’t that present some risk?” his dad asked.
“Yes, it does, but it will also help get the car much closer to a show-quality restoration. We thought that was a better decision in the long run. The Cobra is rare and valuable as it is, but with proper restoration, it could be worth so much more. We want to do this right and maintain the integrity of the car, its history. It’s alw
ays a balancing act. Besides, in restoration, things taking longer than expected is actually expected.” Dean laughed, then patted Lee’s knee and quietly ran through the menu for him.
Lee told Dean what he wanted, and then Dean and his dad went to the counter to order. Lee sat alone with his mother.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and Lee wondered if he’d heard her right. “I shouldn’t have let my own prejudices get in the way for so long. Dean really seems to care for you, and he’s attentive without smothering you.”
“He asks me a lot of questions, but in a very good way,” Lee said as his dad returned to the table. “Where’s Dean?”
“He’s still speaking with the woman at the counter,” his dad answered, but the words weren’t clear, as if his father was looking away. “The food will be a few minutes.”
“That’s okay,” Lee said as he stood and followed Dean’s voice to where he was talking.
“Do you know anything else about him?” Dean was asking.
“I’m sorry. I told you everything I know the other day. His name is Marshall, and he isn’t welcome here after the incidents with my son. What has he done?” she asked.
“He tried to assault me at a club downtown a couple of weeks ago, and now he’s been seen close to where I work,” Lee said with as little emotion as he could, keeping his voice low. The last thing he needed was for his mom and dad to freak out. “There have been other incidents too. We need to talk to him.”
She inhaled sharply. “Look, the guy isn’t all there. If I were you, I’d stay away from him. He a bit obsessive from what I’ve seen. He used to come in here all the time. He always ordered the same thing and expected it to look exactly the same, every time. Like, exactly. He wanted the roast beef folded in a certain way and the lettuce to be placed at the same angle. When he came in, other customers would leave. It was really uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, and he doesn’t smell good,” Lee added. “I think he’s sick.”
“He’s also loud and would say things that scared them.” She paused, and Lee wondered what he was missing. “Wait, I might have something. I’ll be right back.” Her footsteps hurried away.
“Where did she go?” Lee whispered.
“In the back,” Dean whispered. “Your parents are getting restless.”
Footsteps drew closer, and Lee knew the woman had come back. “I just remembered—after the troubles with my son, we followed the guy.” She looked sheepish, and Lee wondered why she hadn’t said this before, but kept quiet. “He lives in the area, on Birch Street in a trailer that the township has been trying to get removed for years, but they can’t because its grandfathered in or something. The place is an eyesore. All I have is his full name, and address, but that might help you.”
“Let me write it down.” Soft scratches of pencil on paper followed, and then Dean thanked her for her help and took Lee’s arm. “We should go back to the table.”
Lee let Dean guide him and took a seat. The food arrived, and they ate and talked, but Lee’s mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out if he was worried or excited about what they’d found. And wondering what would happen the next time he and Marshall crossed paths.
THE PUNCHING bag felt solid against his hands, and Lee whaled on it, not holding back as the rock incident, the stuff at the club, his tools—everything that seemed out of his control—all welled up inside his belly, traveled out through his arms and fists, and landed on the surface of the bag. He punched, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth, yelling and grunting louder and louder as the frustration rose to a crescendo and then broke forth like a balloon popping. Finally, he slowed, letting the anger and hurt build again, working out wave after wave until his arms ached and he had nothing else left inside.
After lunch, Lee had said goodbye to his parents, and Dean had driven them to the gym. Before working out on the bag, Race had put on a thick, padded suit, and he’d gone from lean and muscular to a big padded blob. He’d taught Lee the basics of self-defense and shown him how to S.I.N.G.—how to elbow in the solar plexus, stomp the instep, punch the nose, and go for the groin.
“You’ve got that down,” Race told him. “Part of defending yourself is taking advantage of what’s around you and the opportunities that you have. Knowing your attacker’s vulnerable areas is the best way to make your own escape.”
“Like what?” Lee asked, breathing heavily as he waited excitedly.
“Okay. We’re alone, and you sense that I’m a danger to you. First, you call out that you need help at the top of your lungs. Your voice is a weapon. Use it. But if you feel you’re in immediate danger and you can feel me getting closer….”
Lee waited as Race grew quiet, reaching out with his senses. When Race got close enough, Lee jabbed with his fist as hard as he could, pretending Race was the punching bag. He connected, and Race humphed and stepped back. Then he screamed for help at the top of his lungs, his voice vibrating off the walls of the room they were using.
“That was awesome!” Race eventually said, once Lee’s heart stopped beating in his ears. “How do you feel?”
Lee thought a minute and grinned. “Like I can actually do this.” In a strange way, he felt like an adult, like someone who could look after himself. Race hadn’t told him how to react—that had come from somewhere inside himself. “Show me some more.” Lee was ready.
JUDGING FROM the workout he just had, he’d really needed one. Lee hadn’t realized how much anxiety had built up in his gut until he released it on the bag. And learning some self-defense had been empowering.
“That was something,” Race said as Lee huffed, trying to catch his breath and letting his heart rate slow. “The confidence in your posture is awesome to behold.”
Lee nodded. “I needed that.”
“It’s too bad you’re blind—you’d make a great boxer,” one of the guys said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Man, you’ve got rhythm.”
“That’s the story of my life,” Lee said.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” the man said. “I was just saying that I bet you’d be great in the ring.”
“Thanks. I guess I’m a little too touchy right now.” Lee smiled. The guy was giving him a compliment, and he decided to just accept it in the spirit it was intended. He held out his glove, and the other man tapped it before moving away. He waited until Dean approached, listening for his breathing. “I think I’m ready for a shower, and then maybe we can try to find this Marshall guy.”
“Good idea.” Dean helped him take off the gloves, and Lee thanked Race for his help once again. Then he went into Race’s office and got cleaned up. He felt at ease just knowing that Dean was outside, looking out for him as he showered. Once dressed, they went to the car, and Dean explained that they were driving back to Glendale. “Let’s hope we can talk to this guy.”
“I’m nervous. Maybe we should just call the police, tell them what we’ve found, and let them talk to him.”
“You’re right.” Dean made a call on his phone through the car. “Officer Kendall, please,” Dean asked.
“Just a moment,” the operator said, and Lee half expected the call to go to voicemail.
“This is Kendall.”
“Officer, Dean Milford. I’m calling about the window incident at the Studer’s. I’m here with Lee Studer. Do you remember me speaking to you about this man who’d been harassing him?”
“Yes, the one in the cowboy hat….” She perked up.
“He’s been seen hanging around the garage, watching where Lee works as well. But luckily we’ve come up with a name and an address. Marshall Giardini, and he lives in Glendale.” Dean rattled off the address. “We are on our way to speak with him.”
“No!” The answer was half shouted. “Let the police do their job.”
“Of course. If you want to talk to him, then I suggest you meet us there.”
Lee put his hand over his mouth to stifle a snicker. Officer Kendall wasn’t going to be too happy about that,
but then, they hadn’t found the guy.
“Sir, you shouldn’t be interfering in an investigation.”
“Then investigate,” Dean countered. “I remember telling you that the owner at Ben’s might know something. And she did. She had his name and an address because the police had been called on him before. The police. All you’d have had to do was check your records. She knew exactly who we were talking about.” Dean was being pointed, and discomfort was clear in Officer Kendall’s voice when she responded.
“I see. Do you believe he has been following Mr. Studer?”
“Yes,” Lee answered.
“Okay.” She breathed. “I’m just leaving for patrol. Give me the information, and I will look into it. But please don’t take this upon yourselves. It could be dangerous.”
“All right,” Dean agreed, and gave the officer the information they’d received. “We appreciate your help. Thank you.” The call ended, and Dean chuckled. “That’s one way to get some action.”
Lee chuckled once again. “I guess. Do you think she’ll really go see him?”
“Yes. She doesn’t want us doing it, and we handed her a piece of information she didn’t have—or couldn’t be bothered to dig up. It might lead to nothing, but who knows? It’s suspicious that he’s been hanging around. It’s as though he’s stalking you.”
“I know.” Lee only wanted to return to a normal life. Well, normal for him anyway. “Where are we going now?”
“How about to my place?” Dean asked, and Lee had to admit that the ideas that raced through his head sounded like a wonderful way to spend the rest of the afternoon.
LEE LAY in bed next to Dean, completely wrung out, his fingers drawing squiggles and lines on Dean’s powerful chest, resting his head on Dean’s warmth. Their lovemaking had been enough to set Lee’s spirit on a journey he never thought possible. He ached in places he had never known could feel so wonderfully sore. “I think I have a pretty good picture of what you look like in my head.”