Stewart Miller sighed as he drove over a pothole. The sedan was low and close to the ground, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard a popping noise. He felt the car wobble and it took it a little while to even out. Stewart gripped the wheel tightly as he tried to maneuver the car onto the shoulder of the road. It was lucky the streets were empty that day because he was sure if someone had been behind him, they would have crashed into him. He turned the key in the ignition and got out of the car.
He took a deep breath as he closed the door behind him, pocketing the keys, and looked at the back tire. It was blown and almost completely flat. He didn’t know how long he was going to be able to keep driving on it.
He kicked it softly with the tip of his shoe. It was softer than a tire should be. He opened the door, took his phone off of the dashboard mount, and spoke into it.
“Tell me where the nearest mechanic is,” he said once he’d turned it on.
“The nearest mechanic is about half a mile ahead,” the robotic voice told him.
He supposed that was good enough. He got back into the car, put his phone on the dashboard mount, and put his car into drive. If he had to, he supposed he could put it in neutral and push it all the way there, since the mechanic seemed to be a straight shot ahead. Luckily, there appeared to be no need. Soon, he was in front of a small shop which seemed to be bustling with people.
He took a deep breath as he brought the car to a stop. He didn’t know how long it would be until they got to him, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t have anywhere to go.
He got out of the car, closed the door and looked around, shielding his eyes from the hot summer sun. He had left his sunglasses at home, like an idiot, so he had to make do with the sun visor in the car. It was okay when he was driving because his windows were tinted, but not okay when he stepped out of his vehicle.
He looked around at the mechanic’s shop. Cal could only see two or three guys, all about half his age. He preferred dealing with someone who was in charge, and from experience, he knew they tended to be a little bit older. He leaned back on the door as he continued to look. He wasn’t in a rush. He had already done everything he had planned to do that day, so there was no need to cut in line or inconvenience anyone. Someone would come to him eventually.
He was going to start fucking around on his phone when he heard someone clear his throat in front of him. His gaze moved from his hand to the man standing in front of him and he had to stop himself from gasping. Any other man in this uniform wouldn’t have looked good, but there was something about the man standing in front of him. His gray overalls didn’t let Stewart see much of his body, but he could see his face, and his face was beautiful. Slightly long, with arched dark eyebrows and dark brown eyes. His skin was sun-kissed and his nose slightly flat, which gave his already beautiful face tons of character. Stewart found himself struggling to speak when he looked at him. It had been a long time since he had been speechless in front of a guy—maybe years, probably decades—and it wasn’t as if he didn’t deal with hot guys often.
There was something about him, though. Stewart contemplated the possibility that he was simply lonely, and it had been a while since he had seen someone this beautiful. It was quite possible.
The mechanic cocked his head. “Hello, sir,” he said, his eyes glimmering. “Can I help you?”
Stewart smiled. “Yes,” he said, after what could have been several seconds of silence. The mechanic kept staring at him and Stewart hadn’t been able to find a name tag anywhere on him, no matter how much he stared and he had been staring. “I blew a tire. I was hoping you could help me.”
The mechanic furrowed his brow. “Your back left tire?”
“Yes,” Stewart said, getting out of the way so the mechanic could take a closer look. “Something must have happened at some point. I don’t know, but when I left my house this morning, everything was okay.”
“So, you think it was something that happened this morning?”
Stewart shrugged. “Must have been,” he said. “I don’t know what happened for sure, but I did drive over a pothole”
“Where are you coming from?”
“St. Francis,” Stewart replied. The mechanic was kneeling down in front of the tire and prodding at it.
“Did you take Fourth?” the mechanic asked, looking right at him.
Stewart’s breath caught. There was something so fucking gorgeous about the man especially his eyes that were so intense. He could have kept staring at him forever.
“Sir?” the mechanic repeated.
“Yes,” he said. “Sorry, yes, I took Fourth. And my name is Stewart.”
“Okay,” the mechanic said, getting up. “Well, I’ll have to take a closer look, but it looks like you just need to patch it up. Once that’s done, you can continue driving home.”
Stewart frowned. “Wait,” he said. “I don’t need to replace my tires?”
The mechanic smiled. “You do,” he said. “But you still have some time. I know most people have to save up a bit before that happens.”
Stewart watched him as he wiped his hands on his overalls. “What’s your name?”
“Henry,” the guy replied, extending his hand. Stewart took his hand and shook it. He could feel the skin on the palm of his hand, which was calloused. Henry’s handshake was strong, though, and his touch sent a shiver up Stewart’s arm and up his spine.
“Stewart Miller,” Stewart replied, not letting go of his hand. By that point, it had become an uncomfortably long handshake, but he wasn’t letting go and Henry wasn’t letting go either.
Henry’s gaze darted from his hand to his face. He didn’t remove it—he seemed to be enjoying the uncomfortably long handshake, too—and there was a smile on his face.
“Well, Mr. Miller,” he said when Stewart finally managed to pull his hand away from him. “Hopefully I’ll be able to help you. There are a few cars ahead of you, but we have a waiting area with many terrible magazines for you to peruse while you wait for us.”
“Excellent,” Stewart replied. “Terrible magazines are my thing.”
Henry smiled and gestured toward a little door. “Let me get your details first and then we can talk about your tire. Come with me.”
Stewart followed him into the small room. There was hardly anything comfortable about it. There was a water cooler, but it looked like it was empty. The coffee machine also looked empty. There were a few foam cups next to it, but it was clear the creamer had been depleted. There were little scraps of paper around it, but Stewart couldn’t figure out what they were supposed to be. Around the room, there were about six lounge chairs, all different styles.
Henry gestured toward one of them and sat down next to Stewart. “I just need your number, your name, and your car keys,” he said. “We might take a little while.”
“That’s fine,” Stewart said. “You take credit cards? I don’t carry cash.”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Cash, card or check. If you’re giving us a check, we require proof that one of your utility bills has been paid on time.”
Stewart smiled at him. He didn’t remember the last time he’d written a check. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good,” Henry replied. His hair was short and looked soft. Stewart tried to stop staring at it, but he wanted to run his fingers through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about that, since he didn’t even know the guy.
Henry caught him staring. There was a smile on his face when he spoke. “Are you okay, Mr. Miller?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been to a mechanic.”
And since I’ve met someone as beautiful as you, he thought, saying nothing of the sort. The last thing he wanted to do was be the creepy old dude to the young, hot mechanic. He was pretty sure Henry already got enough of that shit.
“Ah, yes,” Henry said. “It’s no one’s favorite thing.”
“It isn’t,” Stewart replied. “I normally have a mechanic closer to home, but this happened nearby…”
“And you decided to come to our famed garage?” Henry said, a smile on his face. “Don’t I feel special.”
“You should feel special,” Stewart said. “I definitely didn’t choose you because you were the closest mechanic to me.”
“Thanks,” Henry said. “You’re making me feel good about myself.”
Stewart continued to watch him, still saying nothing. Henry looked like he was amused, but he was at work and Stewart wasn’t sure if he was just indulging him. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable at work.
“Anyway,” he said. “Let me get to your car. You just get yourself comfortable with these magazines. You can read all about what Bill Gates thought of the internet in 2005.”
“Great,” Stewart said. “Just what I’ve always wanted to know.”
“Good,” Henry said, laughing a little at his joke. Stewart liked it when he laughed. He had one dimple, which appeared on his left cheek. He needed to stop thinking about him, though, no matter how good-looking he was or how nice his arms were. Ultimately, Stewart knew he had very little chance with someone like Henry the Mechanic. It wasn’t that his bed was constantly empty because it wasn’t. Someone like Stewart had prospects. He could fill his bed as often as he wanted. The problem, he found, wasn’t that he couldn’t find people to be with. The problem was that the people he could be with weren’t the kind of people he would have chosen. As for Henry, he would have chosen him in a heartbeat.
He watched him walk away, his heart beating hard in his chest. The man had swagger and Stewart couldn’t stop staring at him, no matter how creepy it was. He was pretty sure it was creepy. He was sure that, if someone else saw him, they would think he was a perv.
He tried hard to stop staring, but it was almost impossible. Stewart was moderately sure the man was putting on a show specifically for him. He was walking slowly, sashaying his hips, letting Stewart get a full view of his ass.
Stewart was almost sure he was doing it on purpose. Then Henry craned his head back to look at him, flashing him a smile, and Stewart felt like he was about to faint.
Henry caught his gaze and then winked at him.
***
Stewart had waited for about half an hour before Henry came back into the room. His hands were greasy, and his hair was sticking to the skin on his face. When their gazes met, Stewart smiled.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s the prognosis, doctor?”
Henry sat down next to him. “There is something in your tire, so there’s no way for us to patch it up. You were unlucky enough to have two perforations on two different sides,” he said. “You can keep driving on it until you get it replaced in a day or two. It’s not going to pop. There’s just no way for us to patch it up.”
Stewart sighed. “Can you replace the tire?”
“No,” Henry said. “We don’t replace tires here. There’s a tire place not far from here I can recommend.”
“That’s okay,” Stewart said. “I don’t mind going to my usual place.”
“Where is that?”
“Across town,” Stewart replied, smiling at him.
“Ah, well,” Henry said. “I don’t know anything about that side of town, but I do recommend you stay off the freeway if possible.”
“I can,” Stewart said, looking him up and down. “Thank you for everything. How much do I owe you?”
Henry shook his head. He patted Stewart’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, buddy,” he said. “You’re fine. I just took a look at your car.”
Stewart frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Henry replied, smiling at him and raising his eyebrows. There was something to his expression that made Stewart think Henry thought he was crazy. “Seriously, it’s fine. Here are your keys.”
He handed Stewart his keys back and their fingers touched for a second. Henry’s skin was soft to the touch and it was enough to send a shiver down Stewart’s spine.
Stewart looked him up and down. He would have normally never thought about asking someone like this out, but he had winked at him, and Stewart was sure that was the definition of flirting.
He didn’t mind the potential rejection. It had just been so long since he had asked anybody out like this. He was twice this man’s age and almost sure the man wouldn’t be into him. He knew, from experience, that being shy got him nothing. In any other situation, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but there was something about putting people in customer service situations on the spot that made him cringe a little. Then again, he was sure the man wouldn’t want to ask him out, since that would probably not be an okay thing to do during business hours. Then again, he had no fucking idea how mechanics worked.
He smiled at Henry. “Listen,” he said. “Are you busy this Saturday?”
“Saturday?” Henry said, smiling back at him. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“Because,” Stewart replied. “I could take you somewhere if you wanted.”
“Are you asking me out?” Henry said, his gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He was so close to him that Stewart could almost feel his breath on his skin. He could see the little lines on his face, the way his stubble was growing.
Stewart swallowed. “Yes,” he said, his voice firm.
“Good,” Henry replied. “I was worried you just wanted to hang out, which would have sucked.”
Stewart laughed quietly. “So, what do you say? Saturday, seven o’clock?”
“Sounds good,” Henry replied. He grabbed his pen, wrote his phone number on the corner of the work order the two of them had just been using, and tore it off. “There you go. Get in touch, okay?”
“I will,” Stewart said, looking him up and down. “I definitely will.”