Chapter Twenty-One
Gunner
Maddox took the whole damn week to call me. I knew he was busy relaxing or some bullshit, but I still lost my mind, thinking he wasn’t going to call at all. Still, when my phone lit up the next Saturday morning to tell me he was coming by to pick me upthat afternoon, I managed to keep my cool.
“Yeah, chill,” I said, lying in bed and trying to wake up for the conversation. “Do I need to do anything to get ready?”
“Do you have any miniature explosives?” he asked.
I laid there for a second before I realized he was joking. “Ha, ha, Maddox,” I said.
“Just bring yourself,” he said. “That’s all I need.”
“Cool,” I replied.I’m all he needs.
“And Gunner? See if Malcolm’s free later, will you? I might have a couple of questions for him.”
When Maddox hung up, I sent a quick text to Malcolm, then rolled out of bed. I hadn’t seen him since we got back to Seattle, but we had managed to text a little bit. When I took my cigarette breaks at work, I’d send him little flirty messages. Ever since I figured out he had a thing for dirty talk, I’d gotten pretty into getting him all riled up with a few filthy lines. Who would have thought my wicked mouth would end up getting me a cutie like Malcolm?
No matter how many times I told him I was dreaming about his ass or sent him selfies with my shirt off and my jeans undone, I still couldn’t get him to say anything dirty back. He just sent me little blushing smiley faces and hearts and told me how his day was going.
We also didn’t get any chances to talk about what we were doing. After those days together, I was pretty sure Malcolm was into me in a real way. I just hoped that I could keep showing up for him, keeping him happy and entertained. I worried that the cocky charm would wear off at some point, and he’d be disappointed in who I actually was.
When he texted back that he was free that evening, though, all those worries disappeared. I was so damn happy to hear from him, I rolled right out of bed and got my day started proper.
My apartment wasn’t anything special, just a one-bedroom in a small building on a side street. I had a couple of couches I’d hauled in from the Goodwill, a wooden dining table with a few random chairs pulled up to it, and a big TV I’d treated myself to after doing a bunch of overtime. I’d always intended to get more stuff and to actually invest in the place. When my father told me to hit the road, it wasn’t like he gave me time to pick some old family furniture and dishes to take with me. Once I’d gotten the bare necessities taken care of, though, I kind of lost steam for the project.
I whipped up a protein shake in the blender, pouring it into a giant plastic cup and then wandering back to the living room. It was already ten, which meant I had four hours until Maddox picked me up. Usually, Saturday would mean running errands in the morning and then laying around and smoking a joint with Laura in the evening. Thinking about Maddox coming to my place, though, I realized there was something I urgently needed to take care of.
Maybe I didn’t have much to show for my home, but I did have my truck. My father always told me that I failed his expectations. I failed him by being gay, I failed him by disobeying, and I failed him by taking after my mother instead of after him. But there was one expectation I always met. I took pride in my truck.
Pulling on a sweatshirt and sweatpants, I filled a bucket with soapy water and headed out to the street. I had a few rags in the back of the truck, and my toolbox was locked inside. It wasn’t the warmest day we’d had that fall, but it wasn’t the worst, either. Heading back to the side of the apartment building to grab the hose, I set to work cleaning the previous week of dust and grime off the exterior.
By the time Maddox showed up, I wanted to have the truck in perfect condition. I’d been meaning to fill the tires anyway and fix the cockeyed rearview mirror on the driver’s side. The truck itself wasn’t fancy, just a Toyota from the late ‘90s, but I had been maintaining it and working on it since the summer I turned sixteen. I’d rebuilt some of the engine, salvaged a replacement side door after an accident, and kept the machine running like a dream.
Twisting the hose and spraying the front of the truck, I was glad to have something to do with the day. I knew Maddox wasn’t the kind of guy who would care about how expensive my vehicle was or how nice I kept my apartment. But he would notice how well I had taken care of my old truck, and I wasn’t going to miss a chance to show him what I was capable of.
MADDOX
When I pulled up to the address Gunner had texted me, he was already waiting outside. The back of his truck was open, and he was sitting on the bed, swinging his legs off the back and smoking a cigarette.
I angled my bike to the side of the road, then yanked off my helmet. I ran a hand through my hair and took a second to stretch my arms and legs out. While I did so, Gunner hopped off the back of the truck, sauntering over to me.
“Nice truck,” I said, eyeing the vehicle I had last seen in the middle of the storm. “You work on it yourself?”
He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, that’s my work.”
I nodded again, then squeezed his shoulder. “Great. You’ll drive.”
I headed over to the vehicle, and he hurried to catch up with me. “Yeah, that’s fine. You don’t want me to hop on the back of your bike, though?”
“Better if we’re in this,” I said, patting the top of his truck. “Much less conspicuous.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer. In another pair of tight jeans and his black leather jacket, though, I could imagine he had been counting on a cruise through the city on my bike. I made a note to take him out some other day, assuming he kept in line and didn’t do anything to shake my faith.
“What’s the plan?” he asked. “You going to fill me in, or am I just the clueless driver?”
I hopped into the passenger seat, admiring how clean it was inside. “I’ll tell you on the way, clueless driver,” I answered.
