Page 12

Jesus, am I that hard up that just him saying my name is making me feel this way? It’s only been a few weeks since I ended things with Seth. What I need is to get settled here in my job and with my friends and family. I don’t need sex or a relationship making things awkward.

It’s exciting, though, knowing that Dare’s into guys. I really shouldn’t feel that way, and I shouldn’t feel that way about him, but I smile at the thought, nonetheless.

It makes sense, though. I remember one particular night that we were all hanging out at Nate’s, probably a few months before he died. The whole Pack was there, and we were all out at the pool, drinking and getting high. I had to take a leak, so I went into the house through the back sliding door and downstairs to use the bathroom in the basement game room.

Dare was sitting on the couch in the dark, watching a movie. The only light in the room was coming from the TV, and although I don’t remember what movie he was watching, I do remember him jumping up from a reclined position and throwing a pillow over his midsection. The friend he had over was instantly on his feet, fumbling with his hair. I was sure I’d interrupted something. That should have been my first clue he was into guys or at least that some sort of exploration was happening. Nate never talked about it with me, and I never said anything, so I wonder if he even knew.

I run my hand over my face to draw myself out of the memory. Then I get out of bed, take a quick shower, and leave for work.

About a half hour later, I push open the door to the shop. My uncle is already there, working on the inventory. I quickly join him, and he shows me what he’s been working on, plus a list of a few of the tasks on the schedule for the day—some inspections, a couple of oil changes, and an appointment for a tire change as well.

Before I know it, it’s midafternoon, and I hear a bike pull into the garage. I immediately know what it is—a Harley-Davidson Street 750. I’d recognize it anywhere. The rumble of the engine ceases as it’s cut, and Garrett gets off the bike as I walk over to admire it.

“This another one?” I ask. It’s not the same bike he brought in the other day. Wiping my hands on a rag, I look it over. It’s one of my favorites, and in all black. “A 2018?”

Garrett leans against the machine. “Yep, 2018. You got it. And yeah, this is my other one.” He smiles. “Street and I go way back.” He runs his hand down the leather seat to the back end of the bike with reverence.

I smile, understanding his love for the bike and how he’s given it a name. I feel similarly about mine. There’s just something about feeling that power under you and taking off on the open road.

“That’s a really nice bike, man.” I let my eyes roam over it, taking in its sleek frame and lower seat. I shake my head. “So, what brings you in again so soon?” I ask.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I just need some brake pads. Didn’t realize I needed them when I was here the other day. I can change them, but I wanted to pick them up here.”

“Cool,” I reply. “Let’s do it.” I motion for Garrett to follow me, and we head into the retail part of the shop. “I’m still learning all the ins and outs of the system my uncle uses for orders, so be patient.” I smirk at Garrett. “Let me see what we have or if I need to order them for you.” I walk around the back of the desk and get on the computer.

As I’m searching for what Garrett needs, he clears his throat. “So I didn’t get to talk to you much this weekend. How is it being back?” he asks.

“It’s fine,” I reply, clicking through a few tabs. “I’m getting adjusted.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re back. I missed you, Lev.”

I look up to see Garrett smiling warmly at me, and I smile back at him and nod. It’s kind of awkward talking to him like this. It’s been a while. “So, the bar seems to be doing well,” I say, trying to make conversation. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, man. Yeah. It was a good investment. It’s paying the bills, for sure.”

I see that we have the brake pads that he needs in stock, so I excuse myself for a minute to get them from the back storage room.

As I ring Garrett up, he continues the conversation. “So, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.”

I give him a quizzical look.

“I don’t know if you saw him on Saturday night, but Dare frequents my bar quite often.”

My stomach takes a tumble at the sound of his name, and I try to shake off the feeling. “Yeah,” I reply. “I saw him.” A flash of his gorgeous smile with that lip ring sparkling in the light crosses my mind. I draw in a breath, steadying my hands as I staple Garrett’s receipt to his bag and hand him the pads.

“I’m worried about him, Lev,” Garrett says, his voice taking on a softer tone. “He’s really not okay. I’ve done what I can to help him out, but there are times that I see him leaving and he’s pretty messed up.” He puts his card in his wallet and slides his wallet into his back pocket. “He’s still drinking pretty hard, and I’ve seen his eyes all red and bloodshot way too many times. I’ve cut him off a few times, too, and I never let him drive home if he brings himself. I care about him, but I won’t lose my liquor license over him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask.

Running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “It’s just that I know how close you and Nate were. I know you looked out for Dare—hell, we all did—and I need you to know that he’s not doing okay. His parents all but abandoned him after . . .” He trails off, shrugging.

I frown as Garrett’s words sink in. They abandoned him? I knew his parents were struggling with losing their son, but I didn’t think they turned on Dare. What does that even mean? And how am I supposed to respond? Thankfully, Garrett goes on so I don’t have to talk. I don’t miss how he skips talking about Nate’s death directly.

“A few weeks ago, I had to call him a ride, and just last week, he tried to start shit with someone. I think he likes to let his feelings out like that or something. But I can’t have that.” He finishes and shakes his head.

“I’m not sure what you want me to do about this, Garrett,” I say, feeling a strange sense of irritation at his words. “I haven’t seen or talked to Darian in six years. My sister is the one who’s kept me up on anything, and she barely sees him because she’s always at work.”

“Come on, Lev. He always looked up to you. Everyone knows that. When you left—” He swallows hard. “When you left, I think he fell apart even more.”