Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
At this time of the day, most of the people working here should be off, but being the workaholic he is, I expect Isaac to be in, tinkering with one thing or another. I smirk when Jim Morrison’s voice reaches my ears and stride right in to find my mechanic leaning over a workbench and fiddling with a toaster. I whistle, and when he looks up, a grin lights up his eyes.
“Road! I was hoping to see you soon. Just didn’t want to crowd you with all that’s going on.”
The tension hiding deep inside me lets loose, and I offer a smile back. “It’s been intense, I admit. What are the people saying behind my back?” I ask, leaning against a pillar as I take in the vehicles and parts.
Isaac leans back in his chair and rubs his hands in a rag. “You know, the typical. Who fucks who, questioning how long it’s been going on, or even that Clyde turned you.” He snorts, meeting my gaze, awfully casual about all of it.
“He definitely didn’t have to turn me,” I tell him and nod at Martin’s bike, which is going through some kind of service. “He lost his bike. Do you know of a ride we could buy off you or borrow for the time being?”
That gets him excited, and he leads me out, behind the garage where two motorcycles stand among some junk. One is a banged-up black cruiser, the other a modified dirt bike.
“Both need some work, but I could sell either. Which one you think he’d like?”
I smoke some more, contemplating the vehicles. “My money’s on the cruiser, but maybe he should have his pick later, or tomorrow?” I propose and relax into the warm, sunny afternoon, because this is a sure way to put a smile on Clyde’s face.
Isaac shrugs. “Fine by me. You know… I had my suspicions.”
My heartbeat picks up, and I make myself exhale slowly, evenly, because the statement has me on edge. “Really?”
He gives me a playful shove. “You didn’t have them about me? Is your gaydar really that shit?”
I’m so stunned the pipe almost slips through my fingers. “You?” I ask, blinking and studying Isaac in more detail, because no, I couldn’t fucking tell. He’s very much… your average guy. A bit more buff, a bit more tattooed, likes his beers and cars, and he’s not the only one without a wife or girlfriend.
Did I miss him checking me out or something?
“I’d just rather keep it on the down-low, you know?”
“Even now?” I ask before shaking my head. “You know I’d have your back.”
“Maybe in the future, but I don’t need the hassle. I go meet up with a guy occasionally, but that’s about it. In my twenties though?” Isaac stretches with a smile, showing off his wide chest in the tight black tank top. “Those were the days. Different guy every weekend. I liked to find the ones who wanted a bit of force. You know what I mean?” He nudges me with his elbow, and I grin, but the back of my neck prickles, as if someone poked it with tiny needles. It’s weird, because I’ve never even considered Isaac from that point of view, and now it feels like too much information.
“I’m a simple guy,” I say, because I have nothing non-generic to say in response to that. Is he trying to tell me he’s into BDSM? Is he fishing for details of my sex life with Clyde?
“So simple you chose the most difficult guy you could get. I don’t judge,” he raises his palms, “I’m sure he’s worth it. I just like guys a bit younger—Not too young!” he adds, but it still leaves a weird taste in my mouth. He’s in his forties. How young is too young?
I can’t help but think of the guys who offered to help me in exchange for favors, back when I was on the run. While Isaac has never acted in a way that made me think of him as anything but a great man to have around, my body reacts with such tension I can’t cope by telling myself to stop projecting on this guy, who’s just told me his truth. We’ve always been friends. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to talk about guys to, and he forgot that some things are weird when said out loud?
“Must be hard to find someone—” I don’t finish that sentence, realizing that telling him that he’s not getting any younger would be needlessly offensive. I’m not here to tell him when to settle down.
“I’ve got my community here, I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I did hear you’re wifing Clyde up already. Is he that good?” Isaac smirks.
I can’t say I didn’t expect to hear this kind of joke, but maybe not from another gay man. I wrinkle my nose and correct him, “I’m making him my husband, yeah. We’re a good fit. He understands what I’m about. And the lifestyle.”