The Artist's Mechanic
Page 3
That surprised a laugh out of me, though it was slightly terrified. “If Marco thinks he’s too old to be grounded, he’ll learn differently soon.”
Wayne hesitated, then said, “I loved our dinners together, getting to know you, sharing things. I know what I said about relationships and starting over, about trust. But I trust you, Logan. And there’s nothing demeaning about what you do for a living, and raising your brother by yourself is, at the very least, laudable. You are the epitome of trustworthiness and stalwart behavior, and I think you can be a good friend, too. Anything else? I don’t know, but I like you, and I don’t want to give this up between us, whatever you might call it. Please?”
I studied him for a minute, watching him stare at me unblinking while I made my decision. Could I subjugate my desires sufficiently so that friendship would be enough between us, in case Wayne was never ready to move to the next stage? If that was the only way to have him in my life? It would have to do.
Holding out my hand to shake his, I said, “We’ll give it a shot.”
Wayne grinned as he pulled me into a hug, then kissed my cheek. “Great! Come on,” he said, keeping hold of my hand and dragging me along. “Let’s show these youngsters how to really skate, Ronon Dex.”
And like a lamb to the slaughter, I followed his lead not caring that I was too old to be acting like a teenager, but unable to help the joy that throbbed in me with every twist and turn we did in the rink.
I spied Brian and Marco cheering off to the side, high-fiving each other and congratulating themselves. Well, point to them.
Maybe I could make this friendship stuff work.
* * * *
Oh, God, I was in hell. What had I been thinking?
Wayne and I had been practically inseparable since Halloween, spending many evenings in each other’s company, whether it was at my apartment, or his. If it was Wayne’s place, then Marco came with me, toting his homework. At least, my brother seemed to be focused enough that I wasn’t too worried about him ditching school anymore.
Hanging out with my new best friend was both torture and ecstasy. He was beautiful, from every angle, inside and out, and I would do anything to make him happy. That probably wasn’t healthy, but I had fallen hard and fast, with the blessing of my sibling and his. Only, Wayne was simply interested in friendship, and nothing else, as far as I could tell.
I’d met some of his friends, one or two who had been at that party in the summer, and they weren’t so bad. They even came by the shop with their cars to get work done, which was cool. I still felt a little out of place, but Wayne’s friends weren’t snobs, so I learned to relax, a bit.
Thanksgiving with Wayne’s family and Marco had been wonderful, and painful at the same time. The meal had been perfect, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Wayne. He had been dressed in an ice blue sweater that made his eyes shine, and fit perfectly, along with the black slacks—simply stunning. Marco had kicked my ankle under the table when I’d been staring too long, unable to help myself. Geez, I needed to get a grip.
Now, Christmas was a few days away, the youngsters were out of school, and all of us were hanging out at Wayne’s apartment, watching movies.
When the doorbell rang, I saw Wayne frown. “Who could that be?” he said to no one in particular.
He went over to open the door, and I heard him gasp. “Jermaine! What the fuck are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?”
I heard Marco and Brian swearing behind me, and threatening Jermaine with bodily harm, if under their breath. I told them to behave and walked over to where Wayne stood, just in case there was trouble.
Jermaine was a very attractive older man, tall, well-built, body in shape. His clothing appeared to cost more than my weekly salary. He wore arrogance like an Armani suit.
“Such language,” Jermaine said, and when that only elicited a glare from Wayne, he sniffed. “Private investigator. Your parents slammed the door in my face when I stopped by, as if I were the enemy.” The look of incredulity on Wayne’s face seemed to be lost on Jermaine. Gosh, Wayne’s ex was such a fool.
“I wanted to say ‘hello,’ see how you’ve been in my absence,” Jermaine added, eyebrow raising as he checked me out from head to foot, upper lip curling in disdain. “My, my. Is this what you’ve been reduced to? Surely slumming is beneath a man of your caliber?”
I was certain the grinding of my teeth was audible to everyone. I placed my hand on Wayne’s back in support and kept quiet, though it almost killed me.
“Logan is a very good friend, and what he is to me is none of your business, Jermaine. Your elitist attitudes are not my own.”
“Sadly, that was always true.” He handed over a ridiculously large bouquet of red roses he’d had behind his back—how cliché—and ignored me completely. “You seem to be doing well for yourself, my dear. That color blue always did wonders for your eyes.” He reached out to touch Wayne’s cheek. Wayne stepped back, closer to me. I did an internal fist pump.
Jermaine frowned slightly, but his expression cleared and he seemed to switch gears. “I thought we’d have dinner together. Just the two of us.” He sneered at me as though I was leftover oil on the ground. “Catch up on old times.” His smile, then, reminded me of a reptile.
The way Wayne burst out laughing made me proud. “I’m sorry, what? Are you serious? Wouldn’t Antonio be jealous?”
Smoothing down the front of his jacket, Jermaine replied, eyes flickering away and back, “Antonio, it turns out, was a bit of a kleptomaniac. We broke up a month ago, and I realize now how wrong I was to cast you aside the way I did. Can you ever forgive me?” He moved closer, his expression taking on a constipated look of pleading. Wayne moved back again, now flush against my chest. “Give me another chance, my love?”
I placed my arms around Wayne’s waist, knowing it was inappropriate, but needing to protect him from this lowlife, somehow. I was ready to punch this dude if he didn’t get a clue. And quick.
“That would be a ‘fucking hell, no,’ Jermaine.” Brian and Marco cheered in the background, and I turned my head and ordered them to “shut it” even though I wanted to cheer, too. Wayne continued, “The years we spent together were a lie, a fabrication of a life you wanted and the role you preferred I play to make you look good. I see that nothing has changed for you. You still expect me to help you save face, and I won’t have it. I will always be wanting, in your eyes, and I just don’t have it in me to pander to your ego anymore.” He stepped out of my embrace and poked Jermaine in the chest. “You ever contact me again? I’ll call the police. Goodbye, my love. I’m sure there are plenty of pretty boys out there to hang on your arm. Maybe you can start a brothel.”
Jermaine peered down his nose at both of us, his ire barely contained. “Such low-class behavior. Must be the company you keep. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“Ditto,” Wayne said softly as we both watched Jermaine stalk down the hall and turn to the left, heading for the elevators.
* * * *
I closed the door and leaned against it, seeing the defeat and resignation in Wayne’s facial expression. He stared at the floor now, avoiding my gaze. I noticed briefly that our brothers had disappeared, leaving us alone for the moment.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he murmured.
I scoffed. “Please. Jermaine is an ass of the highest order. A user. It will never be about anyone but him in a relationship. He did you a favor, in my opinion, by tossing you out when he did.”
The anger in Wayne’s voice was expected. “Are you saying I deserved being thrown out by a man I thought I’d love for the rest of my life? That I thought would be my rock, my anchor and nothing would come between us?”
“No, I’m not,” I replied. “I’m just saying you’re better off without him, however it happened.”
What Wayne said next, I did not expect. “And you know so much about relationships to give advice, don’t you?” he snapped. “Mr. High and Mighty Mech
anic, so well-versed in the foibles of us humans from your vast experience.”
I knew Wayne was hurting and lashing out. I knew he was probably embarrassed at the encounter between him and his ex-boyfriend happening in front of God and everyone. And yes, I wasn’t the most well-spoken person on the planet, or the smartest, and yes, a mechanic. But still, his reaction stung.
I took a breath and tried to remain calm. “Wayne, I get that you’re pissed, but don’t take it out on me. How about you look in a mirror and see what’s really going on here? Sure, I don’t have your fancy degrees, or friends. I didn’t finish high school and I got my diploma late in life. But I have learned a lot about human nature and people, and I’ve seen a lot of shit over the years. And now, I see you, too, friend.”
I walked around him, snatching up my old leather jacket off the back of a chair before grabbing my cell phone from the table. “Marco!” I called out, checking to make sure my keys and wallet were where they should be.
Marco came down the hall, Brian close behind. From the looks of their disheveled clothing, they’d been playing around. I didn’t want to know. “You staying or leaving?” I asked, hands on my hips.
“Staying.” My brother glanced between Wayne and me. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Behave, hear me?”
I said, “Good night” to the room in general and headed out the door, ignoring the voices that called after me, especially Wayne’s. I’d had enough for one night. Maybe a lifetime.
* * * *
I had a big breakfast with Marco on Christmas morning, our personal family tradition where we exchanged gifts and teased each other, reminiscing about what our parents had done on other Christmases as we had pancakes, bacon, sausage, and hash browns. I left him to clean up since I had to be at work by nine that morning, and the roads were dangerous. I usually tried to have that day off every year, but it didn’t always happen, and the boss liked to catch whatever business might be around when other garages were closed for the holiday.
Marco had been happy with the gifts I’d given him—a tablet and gift card to his favorite clothing store—but he’d been otherwise subdued, which surprised me. I’d expected him to give me hell about Wayne and fixing things between us, but he hadn’t said anything. I didn’t bug him about it.
He’d gotten me a new phone, since he thought my old one had too many cracks on the screen and was still 3G and old technology. Who the hell cared about that? I didn’t have anyone else to text except him, and I had been surly to Wayne, who probably would never talk to me again, after my immature behavior.
I felt remorse for throwing a hissy fit, but I didn’t know what to do about it. We’d both spoken out of anger. Maybe it was just a bad idea, the two of us together. Jermaine had been an ass, but he was cultured and had given Wayne a good life, with nice things. All I had to offer was a perfectly running car into perpetuity.
The only other person at the garage was the cashier, who was retired, widowed, and liked the extra income that working on holidays brought. I grunted as I walked by. She grunted back.
I worked on a couple of cars that would be picked up the next day, and took a break for lunch around two, though I wasn’t really that hungry. As I sat in the breakroom, perusing an old automobile magazine that was dog-eared beyond redemption, I felt my phone buzz in one of my voluminous pockets.
I took it out and swiped the screen, almost dropping the damn thing as I realized it was a text from Wayne.
Marco said you’re working today? My brother was spending time with Brian for the next couple of days.
After a second or two passed, I replied, Yes.
Can I come by your place tonight?
My heart skipped a beat. Why?
I want to apologize. I’m so sorry.
You’ve said it. I didn’t want to make things any more painful for either of us. Though I really meant me.
I want to say these things to you, face to face, he texted back. Which was a bad idea. I needed to make a clean break. Being friends with Wayne was just never going to be enough, and we were too different, and I’d been kidding myself the whole time.
I accept your apology, and I’m sorry, too. No need for anything else.
When I didn’t hear from Wayne again after five minutes, I put my phone back in my overalls and returned to work. I dealt with two late afternoon customers and finished another car before I called it quits. I left the cashier to lock up and headed home, only to find Wayne sitting on the floor in front of my door, leaning back against it, eyes closed.
* * * *
I sighed and rubbed my eyes with the heel of one hand. “Wayne,” I said, loud enough to wake him.
His eyes popped open, then widened when he saw me staring down at him.
“Logan,” he said, using the wall to help himself off the floor and stepped to the side, out of the way. He looked haggard and pale, even as he watched me warily.
I let us into the apartment and heard him shut the door behind us, focusing on removing my boots and insulated overalls, which I hung on one of the hooks on the wall. The sweatshirt and jeans I wore underneath were old and stained from years of use. I turned and stretched, twisting from side to side in an attempt to remove some of the kinks from my spine. I could feel Wayne’s eyes on me, but I remained silent.
Finally, as I walked into the kitchen, he said, “I know you said you accepted my apology, but I had to see you in person.”
“Okay, you’ve seen me. Now, what?” I took a beer out of the fridge and chugged it down in a few swallows, hoping to hide my nervousness while doing so.
“Why are you being so difficult?” Wayne said, sounding frustrated.
I set the empty bottle on the counter. “There was no need for you to come over here in the freezing cold to apologize again.” And ruin my sanity.
Wayne removed his skull cap and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “I don’t want you to think I meant those words I said to you the day Jermaine turned up. I was wrong, I was ugly, and I was lashing out. I don’t want you to push me away.”
“You’re worried about our friendship? Because you have lots of friends already, people like you, who understand your world, fit into it well.”
Wayne threw his hands in the air. “Oh, for the love of Christ, stop it, would you? None of my friends, love them though I do, understand what it truly means to give your hopes and dreams up for another. To sacrifice everything to take care of a sibling. You lost your parents, at a young age, and you stepped up. Marco needed you, you stepped up. I needed a friend, and you were there.” He moved closer to me. “Who’s there for you, Logan?”
I looked him in the eye as he was the same height as me. I saw kindness, concern, and maybe a hint of something else, but perhaps I just wanted to see it. “I can’t be your friend, Wayne. It’s killing me.”
His expression fell. “Have I ruined things so badly?”
“I don’t want to just be your friend, and I can’t ask that of you.” There, I’d said it.
“You…you want…more?” His eyebrows raised, mouth dropping open.
“Always, almost from the beginning, but you’ve been through hell, and I couldn’t impose on you like that. I thought friends was all I could have. All I could handle. And even that has proved…strenuous.”
Wayne studied me for what seemed like forever, then reached out and yanked on a few of my dreads. “Ouch!” I said, pulling them from his fist.
“You’re an idiot,” Wayne scowled, crossing his arms on his chest. Yes, he was pouting.
“What the hell did I do to deserve you pulling my dreads, man?” I groused, rubbing my scalp.
“You could have just said something, you know? I know I said ‘friends,’ but I might have done things differently if you’d said something.”
“Why the hell would I? You told me you couldn’t trust anyone, that you didn’t need any complications. What’s more complicated than an average guy raising a teen?”
“Yes,” I whispered, unable to look away from the sudden brightness in Wayne’s eyes. His gaze focused on my mouth as he licked his lips, and when he leaned in close to kiss me, my world turned upside down.
* * * *
In all the years I’d lived, I’d never tasted anything as fine as Wayne’s mouth, his tongue tangled with mine, the sweat on his skin, the dimple in his chin. I yanked him close and ravaged his lips, fed by his moans and the way his body writhed against mine.
I removed his jacket, still kissing him deeply, unwilling to stop, and when I stuck my hands under his sweater, the warmth of his skin made me groan. He slid his hand up to cradle the back of my head, the other on my ass and grinding our groins together. I moved with him, stumbling our way to the living room and ending up on the couch, with me on the bottom.
Wayne gasped and sat on my crotch, sneakers lost somewhere along the way. He rubbed his butt against my cock, making it harder, and pushed my shirt up to pinch my nipples. “I should spank you,” he said before leaning down to kiss me again, and I didn’t care how sore my lips would become. I didn’t want to let him go.
After a few minutes, I sat up, keeping him in my arms. “Naked?” I asked, sucking on his neck and licking the pulse that visibly pounded there.
“Yes,” he said urgently, and we both stood, stripping as we strode quickly down the hall to my room, the bed unmade.
I tossed the blanket aside and dragged Wayne atop me, wrapping my legs around his hips as we humped each other, pre-cum slick between us, his warmth, his tenderness the best aphrodisiac ever invented.
“I’m sorry,” Wayne murmured as we rolled to the side, and he took my cock in his hand, while I mimicked him.
“Me, too,” I replied softly, and kissed him while we pulled on each other’s cocks, chasing release and a closeness that we both craved. It was too soon, when we came, but it was only the beginning, because by morning, I was sore, and so was Wayne.