Chapter 23

After finishing three gay romance novels, I came to the conclusion that I was definitely not straight. I hadn't jerked off so much since high school. It made me wonder, again, why it had taken me so long to figure it out. I thought I was probably bisexual because I was also attracted to women. But while it was true that I got turned on by being with a woman, my relationships with them had never lasted long. That was still a mystery to me.

I decided to move on to gay porn to see if watching two men together had the same effect. Five minutes in, I was covered in my own cum. So, it wasn't just Miguel. But it was Miguel I wanted. I just wasn't sure if Miguel wanted me.

This whole first week of living with him had been strange. Sunday night, we hung out and watched movies. Monday was his other day off, and when I got home from work, I found a note telling me he had a dinner date. He got home fairly early with another story about how his date objected to his makeup.

I'd almost said something then, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I always felt so tongue-tied around the sharply dressed man. I felt like I didn't measure up. But then, the rest of the week, we both worked, and since I got home first, I got dinner started. We'd decided to do meal prep ahead of time, so all either of us had to do was cook the prepared food. We ate together and talked or watched a movie.

To be honest, those evenings with Miguel made getting through my last week working for Jeff bearable. As the week went on, he got more and more shitty with me. He tried every way to make my life hell while I was at work. By the time Friday rolled around, I was seriously thinking about just going in, taking my toolbox, and leaving. Unfortunately, I was getting help from Gabe, who had a pickup but couldn't come until later in the day.

I finally finished the last car that had come in specifically for me to fix. I'd just finished washing my hands when Jeff came into my bay. "We got a 2017 Honda being towed in by Triple-A. The tow truck driver thinks it's the alternator. Dead battery, but it's only six months old." He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Think you can handle it?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't hide it. "Sure. As long as the parts get here in time for me to finish it today. I won't be coming back after I leave tonight."

Jeff clenched his jaw and took a breath like he was going to start ranting. I put up my hand and said, "Save it. Do you want me to fix the car or not?"

"Fix the fucking car," he growled and stomped out of my bay.

I waited out in the parking lot for the tow truck to arrive. When the flatbed pulled in with a black Honda Accord coupe, I saw that the driver was someone I knew. "Hey, Stan," I said when he got out of the truck. "How's it going? How's Tammy doing?"

Stan clapped me on the back. "She's good. Tired of being pregnant. June can't come soon enough."

"It'll be here before you know it. Then you'll have sleepless nights and dirty diapers."

Stan shrugged. "I'm okay with that. I just can't wait to meet my little girl."

"She'll be lucky to have you as a dad."

"Thanks, man." He pulled a card out of his pocket. "Here's the contact information for the owner of the car. He had to take a rideshare to his destination. Said he had a meeting or something. He said to call him when you know what the repair will cost."

I tucked the card into the pocket of my coveralls. "Thanks"

Stan stepped closer to me and lowered his voice. "Is it true you're finally leaving this place?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I've had enough. Jeff's gotten worse over the years."

He made a sound of disdain. "You don't have to tell me that. None of us like to bring cars here. It's going to suck worse when you're gone. Where are you going?"

"Tommy's in Neptune," I replied.

"The Harley dealership?" When I nodded, he smiled broadly. "That's great. I know you've wanted to work on those for a long time. Congratulations."

"Thanks." I gestured toward the car. "I should get started on this. Today's my last day, and I don't want to get stuck here late."

I helped Stan get the car off the flatbed and then waved him off. He'd charged the battery enough that I could start the car and drive it onto the lift in my bay. I put the car on the computer and, sure enough, the alternator was shot. Luckily, the local parts store had one in stock, and they delivered.

I took the card out of my pocket and went into the front office to call the owner. A tiny shock went through me when I saw the name on the card. Robert Dalton. The name of my childhood best friend. I shook my head. It couldn't be him. That would be too weird. I worked up the estimate for the parts and labor and called his number.

"Hello?" a man's voice answered.

"Mr. Dalton, this is Zach from Jeff's garage."

There was a pause before he replied. "Zach?" Another pause. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit distracted."

"That's okay," I said. "Nobody likes it when their car breaks down."

"It's certainly inconvenient." He sighed. "So, what's the damage?"

I was getting a strange nagging sensation like I was missing something. I shrugged it off. I told him the total cost to replace the alternator. "I should have it ready in a couple of hours."

He blew out a breath. "That'll be a hit to my credit card. But it is what it is. Go ahead and do the repair. I have a meeting in twenty minutes that will take at least that long."

"Sounds good," I said. "Should I call you or text you when it's done?"

"You'd better text me. I don't know when my meeting will be over."

"Okay," I replied. "It will be from a different number, but I'll tell you it's me."

"Okay. Thank you again."

After I hung up, I got to work on the car. It wasn't a difficult repair. It just took time to get around all the belts and other engine parts to get to the alternator itself. By the time I was done, it was after two o'clock, and I was starving. I washed my hands, grabbed my lunch out of the cooler in my bay, and went to sit outside. There was a picnic table and benches on the side of the building that we used for eating lunch in the warmer weather.

I got myself settled and pulled out my phone to text the customer.

Me

Hi, Mr. Dalton. This is Zach from Jeff's garage. Your car is ready.

I was halfway through my lunch when I got a reply.

732-555-6439

Great. I'm just about done here. I'm at the Asbury Ocean Club, so it won't take me long to get there.

Me

Sounds good. See you then.

The Asbury Ocean Club was a high-end hotel and residence right on the ocean. Whoever he was meeting with had lots of money.

I finished my lunch and went back to the Honda to make sure it was free of grease and grime before backing it out of my bay.

I was putting my tools away when Craig came over and said, "Your Honda guy is here."

I nodded. "Okay. Tell him I'll be right out."

"You should have let me fix his car," Craig said.

The way he said it got my hackles up. I turned to face him straight on. "Why?"

His lip curled up in a sneer. "Then there'd be one less faggot on the road."

I didn't even think. My fist swung out, and I hit him right in the face. Blood burst from his broken nose, and he went down like a stone. I stepped over him to get to the front office. What I saw there made my blood boil. A slender man with neatly coiffed blond hair, dressed in a well-tailored dark suit with a light-pink shirt and dark-pink tie, was staring down Larry, who was muttering something to him just low enough that one else could hear it. It reminded me of Miguel when he was facing down Carlos.

I strode over and got between Larry and the smaller man. "Get out now before you and Craig have matching broken noses."

"What, are you some kind of fag lover?" he snarled.

I got right in his face. "Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?"

Larry stared at me in wide-eyed surprise. "You…?"

"Get. Out," I growled.

I stood with my hands on my hips, staring at him until he left. Only then did I turn around to face the other man. My jaw dropped and my eyes misted over. "Robbie?"