Now, here we are, thirty-three and only just having my first brush with anyone who makes me feel anything above the cock. And now she’s gone too.
“Good?” Wyatt reiterates it like a question, like he doesn’t fucking believe me. His green eyes pierce mine, the one thing that’s so similar between us, and I avert my gaze.
This isn’t the talk I want to have with him. My issues aremyissues. I don’t put my shit on other people. I make other people laugh, I keep things light. That’s my role in life.
So I force a smile to crack back out on my face before I answer him.
“Yeah, man. Felt good to get elbow-deep in grease again.”
That’s not a lie. I’ve missed working on engines. Even if I prefer smaller ones than a Sprinter van. And now that pinch in my chest is back.
“You did good on that shit, you know that?”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Y’know,” he starts, leaning back, legs outstretched. “Gonzo’s accepting that he’s not really coming back. He’s talked to Rory about putting a contract together to sell the garage to me.”
“No shit?”
He nods his head once. “Looks like it’s happening. Anyway, you know how me and Rory go to New York every few months?”
My turn to nod.
“Well, our next trip is coming up soon, and this’ll be the first time without Gonzo at the shop. I was wondering if you might wanna hold the fort down while I’m gone? It’ll only be a few weekdays. But we’ve been so busy lately, it would be kinda dick to screw people over by just leaving their vehicles there, untouched, while I’m off with my wife.”
My chest hollows, then refills with more emotion than it had before. “You trust me to handle the garage?”
“I’m desperate, but not desperate enough to ask you if I didn’t trust you’d do a good job.” A smirk peeks out of his scruff, and I think he means it. “I saw your work on the van. Plus, Google or ChatGPT will be able to give you better advice than Gonzo ever gave me way back when, and it’s not like I won’t have my phone on me if you fuck something up.”
This is my chance, I think.This is my opening.
As much as it feels like an honor to have some form of respect and trust from him like this, I need to clear the air before I can accept in good conscience.
“I know you’re probably booked with work,” he says. “I hope it’s not too much of a pain in the ass to reschedule some shit for a few days.”
“It’ll be fine,” I tell him, waving the beer-less hand. “But…”
Wyatt’s dark gaze sharpens on mine. He grunts, and it’s basically ayeah?
“Well, I just wanna make sure you know that I’m not the same irresponsible schmuck I was when we were kids.”
Another grunt, but it’s more of an agreement. Looks like I’m still fluent in caveman after all the years I lived with this one.
“I know you’ll probably always have on the older brother goggles when you look at me, probably a highlight reel of all my dumbest fuckups,” I go on, trying to keep it light, my signature move. Wyatt’s face cracks a little, probably remembering some of my more impressive fuckups.
This is as heavy as I’ve probably gotten with anyone as far back as I can remember, save those couple of deep dives with Amelia. It’s like working on an electric car instead of a fuel-guzzler. Unfamiliar territory for me, but I try.
“But I’m thirty-three, man. I need to know you’re not still seeing me like who I was at sixteen or twenty or whatever. I’m not the same kid I was then.”
He nods, taking a sip of his beer, before standing and placing the bottle on the counter there. Wyatt holds out a hand for me, and I take it, rising up to join him, and falling into a handshake and a bro hug with him. He claps my back, I clap his, and it feels like a new leaf for us.
For a second, I think Amelia would be proud.
Then I realize she wouldn’tbeanything, because she’s gone. She’s not a part of my life to even have an opinion on the happenings in it. Don’t love the way that feels.
The rest of the game whizzes by, me doing my best to ignore the hollow pang in my gut with occasional jokes and laughter ringing out above the sounds of the ball rolling down the lane, knocking down pins. He beats me by seven, so we play another round, where I beat him by nine. We’re mid the tiebreaker game when he brings up family dinner tomorrow night.
“I was thinking, now that it’s getting warmer we could grill out some steaks tomorrow. I’m gonna borrow a grill from Duke. I could swing by and grab you on my way to get it, you can help me get it in the truck and home and all that?”
