“It’s beautiful,” Lance said, watching Tanner approach the bike like a kid on Christmas morning finally getting the one thing he’d always wanted.
“She really is!” Tanner agreed as he reverently touched the gas tank and padded seat. The bike was covered in a thick layer of dust from years of neglect.
“She?” Lance asked, smiling at him with an arched brow. Tanner rolled his eyes and shot him the finger. All in good fun of course. “She’s yours, I assume.”
Tanner nodded. He wanted so badly to straddle her again. But what was the use? His bum leg would never allow him to ride again.
“You haven’t ridden since you got back?” Lance asked.
“I can’t. My bad leg wouldn’t be able to support its weight.”
This was yet another thing from his former life that was gone now. So many losses, so many things he’d never get back. When Tanner stopped to think about them all, he felt overwhelmed. But then again, in this instance, the bike itself was still here so it wasn’t a total loss. Not really. It was just a damned shame that all he could do was look and touch reverently. She’d been a present from his father when he’d turned 18. For helping out all those years—he’d said. He’d given Tanner an impassioned speech about the dangers of reckless driving before he’d handed over the keys. It had been one of the best days of Tanner’s life.
It was so long ago.
“You ever ridden one?” Tanner asked Lance, who shook his head but kept eyeing the bike like he wanted to give it a go.
“My dad had one, at some point, I think, but—there was never any time to learn about motorcycles with school and football. Besides, I don’t think I have the right look to be a biker.”
“The look? What look?”
“You’re all—tattoos and scars, and tough looking. I’m an accountant. I wear grey slacks to work when I want tochange-it-up.”
Tanner laughed, just as Lance had intended. But secretly Tanner completely disagreed with Lance’s self-assessment. Underneath that strait-laced accountant persona was a daredevil jock, well-disguised for now with pressed chinos and pinpoint Oxford shirts, but there all the same. He remembered the man who’d played football with such power and bravery, facing off against opposing teams every season with a confident smile and cocky swagger. That man was still in there. Tanner was sure of it.
“She was a gift from my dad. He’d gotten it from a client of his. It was broken down, desperately in need of a tune up and new paint job. My dad bought it for me, and we fixed it up together.”
“Did he ride?” Lance asked, but Tanner shook his head.
“Never even tried. Said he was too damned old and smart, and that bikes are for the young and foolish.” Tanner gave a shaky laugh recalling the bonding experience of working on the bike together like it was yesterday.
“That’s why you’re upset about Dave,” Lance surmised, stepping closer to Tanner. He didn’t touch him as he kept glancing between the bike and Tanner like he’d just figured it out.
“I’m not upset,” Tanner denied with a snort.
Lance smirked, knowing that Tanner was just fooling himself.
“It’s not fair of me—I know that,” he shrugged, because no, it wasn’t, but— “To them, it’s been three years, but to me—” he shook his head. “I only learned about dad’s death a couple of months ago,” he said in an agonized whisper.
Lance’s heart hurt for Tanner. He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him close, unsure what to say. He was staggered by the amount of pain Tanner had suffered in such a short period. Deep down, Lance doubted that Tanner had really processed much of anything yet. How could anyone? He’d simply survived to this point. Lance was afraid—far more than he’d ever say out loud—that it would all eventually catch up to him. He hoped and prayed that he would be allowed to be there for Tanner when, or if, that day ever arrived.
“That’s valid,” he said, keeping his arms around Tanner. “But you can’t—” he sighed, “you don’t have to—and shouldn’t!—move on faster than you’re ready for, but you can’t ask your mother to stand still either,” he managed to say. “She’s still young—she deserves to find someone again, right? Just as you deserve the space and time to make your own choices of partners as well.” He paused and clucked his tongue. “We may have a slight problem getting your mom to buy into that last bit, just so you know.”
Tanner was silent for a few moments, simply holding onto Lance as he steadied his breathing.
“It’s getting a little annoying,” Tanner mumbled against Lance’s chest.
“What is?” Lance asked, naively.
“You—always being right, like you’re fucking Yoda. Or the Dalai Lama.”
Lance’s laugh was warm and affectionate, and it settled over Tanner like a cozy blanket, magically soothing all his anxieties, making it impossible to stay annoyed or angry.
He looked up to see Lance gazing at him with a touch of heat.
“I like your family,” Lance said with a smile.
“I like seeing you with them,” Tanner replied. He leaned forward to capture Lance’s mouth in a quick kiss. But it didn’tstay that way for long. Lance buried a hand in Tanner’s hair and pulled him in for one of those extra hot, tongue tangling kisses that made everything else fade away.
