CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Chad

The detachable hardtop was off of my Jeep, and I was hauling ass down the beach access road, heading toward the highway. The ocean was to my left as the sun beat down on my half-naked body. Mom asked me to make a grocery store run because she forgot the main ingredient for her dinner of shrimp scampi: the shrimp.

The weather was perfect, and the tunes were at full blast in the Jeep. I liked old-school rock because my father listened to all the classics, especially Bowie, when I was a kid and I grew to like the sound as well. Today's ride had David Lee Roth screaming Panama as I kept time with the pounding drums by drubbing on the steering wheel.

My hair was flying in my face from the wind, so I reached for the glove box for my favorite baseball cap. The word COCKS was written across the face in bold block letters and in very small letters below it that read, The University of South Carolina Gamecocks. Mom had been horrified the first time I wore it. Dad had smirked, but wisely kept his opinion to himself.

After a quick second, reaching for the hat, I didn't notice a car that was parked on the side of the road before I whizzed by, narrowly missing it. Checking my rearview mirror, I recognized the bright red BMW roadster and the man leaning against it. I slowed down before whipping a U-turn and heading back to the car.

Executing another U-turn, I pulled up behind Cole and his car and hopped out. "You okay, Mr. Hicks?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'd be better if you called me Cole, though."

He pointed to the front passenger side of the car, so I headed around the back bumper to check out the issue. "Well, Cole, it looks like you blew out a tire," I stated, nodding my head while I mirrored him and crossed my arms.

He joined me on the edge of the road. "Yeah, I saw that," he began. "But I can't seem to find the spare or a jack. Plus, I'm not sure I even know how to change a tire, to be honest with you."

"You didn't get a spare with this car," I stated. "These are run-flat tires, but the one you totally shredded is beyond what I'd call flat." I motioned to the shredded sidewalls of the tire. "That's a complete loss on that one."

"Well fuck me," he muttered. "Who buys a car with no spare tire?"

"Anyone who buys a newer model BMW," I replied. "Have you called roadside assistance at BMW yet?"

He looked off in the distance. I imagined he hadn't and waited for an answer. He turned around. "I have roadside assistance?"

I wanted to burst out laughing, but he looked so lost and entirely out of his element. "Grab your stuff," I said, using my cell phone and taking a quick picture of the undamaged rear tire on my side of the car. I needed the size specs for a replacement. "Hop in the Jeep. I'll take you to town and you can buy a new tire. I'll even use my jack when we get back and change it for you."

"You'd do that?" he asked, shading his eyes from the strong sun. "But where were you headed? Am I interrupting?"

"Mom needs shrimp from the store. We'll grab you a new tire and the shrimp too," I said. "Sorta kill two shrimps at one time."

"And you're sure? Because I can call that assistance number you were talking about," he said.

"You could wait out here for hours for them," I said. "It'll take me ten minutes tops to do the swap after you buy the new one."

Cole grabbed his wallet and keys, put the ragtop up on the roadster, and we headed for town. "I owe you big time, Chad," he said, trying to find his seatbelt. "I mean it. I'll pay you as well," he added.

"The belt is hanging loosely between the seat and the door," I advised. "Hard to find when I have the top off the Jeep."

He dug around some more as he struggled to find the belt, sliding forward and checking behind him. "I can't seem to find the damn thing."

I tapped his thigh. "Lean back a sec," I instructed, leaning across his lap, practically laying on him as I reached beside him for the loose seatbelt. "There it is," I said, grunting as I pulled myself up with said belt in my hand, losing my balance and jamming my free hand directly into his crotch.

Cole flinched from the surprise and possibly the pain. "Yowch," he cried, flinching and grabbing my wrist. My face was an inch from his as he gripped me tightly, my hand still buried in his crotch.

I immediately felt his cock flex under my hand and we locked eyes for maybe a second. The second was the longest one I'd ever spent wondering what to do next. I couldn't exactly move my hand because he had my wrist in a vice-grip as his face registered discomfort.

"Oh my God! Shit… I'm so… so… sorry," I stuttered.

He slowly lifted my hand away from his cock, and once clear of the pain zone, released me, assisting my balance as I sat back in my seat. He was so strong that I momentarily forgot what I'd accidentally done.

"So, you do swear," he said, his voice squeaking, his eyes still registering the shock of punched balls as he stretched his legs further into the floorboard.

I began to laugh. "I nail you in the nuts and you say that?" I tried to hold my laughter at his pain inside but spat out the effort and let loose with the giggles. "You… you… you…" I couldn't finish my thought because I was laughing so hard. I pointed at his crotch. "You…" I'd obviously lost my ever-loving mind. I couldn't speak coherent words.

At first, Cole stared at me like I'd lost a screw or two, while I seemed to have found his pain funny. The more I thought about how awful my reaction was, the more I broke up over it.

"You're amused?" he asked.

I instantly stopped laughing, my face freezing in regret. For a moment, anyway. I tried looking away, but that didn't help. I turned back and found him glaring at me. "Sorry," I mumbled, stifling a giggle.

"Next time, just ask to touch it."

We stared at each other. He kept his face emotionless as I studied him. Neither of us broke, but I was struggling not to burst.

"Maybe gentler next time?" I asked.

"You asshole," he quipped, joining me in the fun.

He threw his head back against the seat and let himself get carried away by the absurdity of what had just happened. Cole had a deep, full-throated laugh. He stomped his feet on the floor like he had to release the joy somewhere. For just a flash, he looked happy. He appeared to have found a moment to appear alive.

"You wouldn't like it gentle, Mr. Hicks," I joked.

"Stop!" he yelled, slapping his knees as he continued laughing. "I can't breathe."

"I'm thinking that wasn't hard enough," I added, enjoying this side of him.

"Oh my God! Stop, Chad," he said, raising his hand.

I watched as he allowed the humor to break down walls I think he lived behind. Every time he glanced at me, he'd lose his shit again and hide his face with his hands. For the first time, I saw a young man in him.

"You still don't have your seatbelt on," I reminded him.

He peeked through his hands at me. I grinned and pointed. "Stay the fuck away!" he joked. We lost it again.

But after one more burst of laughter and the final sigh from catching his breath, he inhaled slowly while his eyes filled with tears. One by one, they fell down his face until he leaned over and sobbed.

I quickly slid onto the center console and rubbed his back. "Hey, it's okay. Just let it out," I whispered. "I've got you, Cole. Let the pain out. There's no shame here," I soothed.

He sat up and faced me, moving his head side to side, trying to form words with a half-opened mouth, saliva stretching from lip to lip, but the words were trapped as he fell into my arms and wept.

"Shhh," I consoled. "Slow and deep breaths. I've got you. I've got you," I repeated, holding the back of his head and caressing him.

Another minute went by before he leaned back and we locked eyes. His wet eyes spoke of a sadness that he was buried under. Memories of lost love were haunting him. I'd seen this before. I'd lived it and knew it too well.

Our eyes remained locked when Cole leaned forward to kiss me. As much as I wanted to experience this man, this was not the time or the place. I held my hand to his chest, not pushing him away, not inviting him in.

"No," I said. "This is not about me, Cole."

He sat back in his seat, wiping at his eyes, and stared straight ahead through the bug-splattered windshield.

"I should've known," he said. "I've never met anyone like you, Chad, but you're obviously too good for me," he said softly.

"That's not true," I replied. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm damaged goods," he answered, no emotion in his voice. "I'm completely stuck and I have no idea how to get unstuck." He released a heavy breath. "I was out driving because I was desperate for something to do. Anything. Something to kill the loneliness. But I don't have anywhere to go, and no one to see. I treat people badly and that's why they leave."

Cole reached for the door handle and opened it. "Don't go," I urged. "Everyone has sorrow, Cole, and everyone hurts, but we find a way. I truly believe that life is not a dress rehearsal, so we have to help each other through these sorts of things. We get this one life only and it's up to us to find our path through the roadblocks."

He pushed the door open and stepped out. "I'm going to wait for that roadside thing after all," he stated, gesturing to his car before focusing on me. "I tried to fuck your friend, by the way. You may as well know before he tells you."

He shut the door and made his way to his car. I sat in mine and watched him get into his.

"He already told me," I muttered.