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When I’m only five minutes away, my dad calls, the ringtone I assigned for him blaring through the car. I fumble with my phone and answer, worried that something’s happened. My dad never calls me.
I didn’t even know he owned one anymore, he rarely has it on him.
The last time I saw it, it was on his workbench covered with tools.
Perhaps Avery found it and made him put it to use. What’s the point of having a phone plan if you don’t use the damn thing?
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, pulling over to the side of the road and trying to catch my breath. I’m bracing for bad news.
Maybe he found out about Cash and Ford.
About me and what I’ve done.
Oh god, I’m not ready for this to be over.
“Hey, yeah,” he chuckles awkwardly and then says, “Nothing’s wrong. Just thought I’d invite you over to dinner with Avery and me.”
I let out a strangled breath. “Jesus, Dad. I thought you were dying.”
He scoffs, and I can almost see him running a hand down his face. “No. Not dead, just wanted to know if you wanted to come over for some food and conversation. It’s been a while since… well, you know, since we talked.”
Well, shit. I want to go back to Ford’s and get my ass railed, but I don’t want to turn my dad down either. Not when it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to connect. I do love spending time with him, no matter how different we are. It’s one of the reasons I took that job at the garage.
Well… that and so I could watch Cash and Ford work. I’ve had a crush on them for ages. All that masculine energy, those dirty hands, those coveralls.
My dick perks up, and I flick it. Now is not the time.
“Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
He almost beams through the phone. How could I say no to him when he’s sacrificed so much to raise me? He’s loved me unconditionally. I remember coming out to him, how nervous I was that he might not accept me.
I don’t know why I was ever worried. He’d just looked at me and said, “Thanks for telling me, Ben, but I already knew.”
And then he took me on a motorcycle ride and bought me a burger at a small, run-down bar.
Nothing changed after that, except his occasional dad comments about finding myself a man.
“Great. I’ll tell Avery. I can’t wait to see you, Ben.”
“Yeah, Dad. Same.” And then we hang up, and I press my forehead to the steering wheel. I am looking forward to my time with my dad, but I’m also regretting the fact that tonight will have to wait.
Shooting off a few texts to both Cash and Ford, I turn my car around and head to my dad’s place.
* * *
“You want something to drink?” my dad asks me, and Avery eyes him. He’s wearing a bright purple dress and his hair is pulled into an intricate French braid. He’s a pop of color in this house, and I can see why my dad looks at him the way he does.
I think he has a little crush. Not that I blame him.
Avery is something else.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll have some water.”
“Not a beer or anything?” my dad asks, and Avery holds out the spoon he’s using to stir something in the pot on the stove. A noodle plops to the floor, but it goes ignored as my dad almost seems to lean into him.
“He told you what he wants, Dean. Get your son a water. The last time Ben had something to drink he had to be carried home. He’s a lightweight.”
“You did a heavy pour,” I say, and Avery winks at me.
