Mason was back down in the garage in nine minutes flat. He’d closed all the windows, making a mental note to double-check all his ceiling fans worked properly. His apartment wouldn’t heat up like his truck in a baking parking lot, but he liked to cool down after a long day sweating under cars.

He’d then set up a bowl of dry food and water for Socket and left her some toys to play with. All the advice online said Socket should get used to her new living space. He hoped time alone, without him hovering over her, would help.

Soon enough, he and Tristan were under the hood of Rhys’s red Impala, carefully disassembling the engine to find out where the problem lay. The smoke suggested oil problems, so Mason thought best to start there.

Before he could even get into the guts of the engine, the lone landline on his desk began to ring.

Mason gulped, there was only one place that ever called his landline number. The First Mutual Bank of Hidden Creek.

He sat down at his desk, flexing his hands as he lifted the phone. “Morning, Mason’s Body Shop,” Mason nervously answered.

“Mason, buddy, how you doing?” Mr. Shapiro, the loan manager from Hidden Creek Bank, asked enthusiastically.

“I’m well, Mr. Shapiro. How can I help you today?” Mason noticed his foot was already tapping on the floor.

“Well, your mortgage check came a week early. Just wanted to make sure everything was going fine,” Mr. Shapiro said.

Mason has sent the check earlier in the week so he wouldn’t forget. “Yep, just thought I’d get it done and dusted.”

“Just to be clear, early payments don’t affect what you owe,” Mr. Shapiro reminded him. “And you do. Owe us that is.”

“Yes, Mr. Shapiro.” Mason couldn’t think of anything else to say. He almost asked what the point of Mr. Shapiro’s call was. Just to remind him that he was up to his ears in debt with the bank?

“You take care now, Mr. O’Neil.” Mr. Shapiro hung up before Mason got the chance to reply.

“Everything okay?” Rhys asked. Mason spun around as Rhys stood up from the customer sofa.

“Yeah, all good, man,” Mason assured him.

Mason nervously smiled at Rhys. Why was he so flustered around him?

Either way, Rhys didn’t seem to notice. He seemed to be struggling with what to say next.

“Is there any chance I could borrow your Wi-Fi password? I need to call my parents, and they prefer video calls.” Rhys held his breath, like he’d asked for something drastic.

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Mason replied. Rhys smiled back at him. Mason felt his stomach squirm once more. What was it about Rhys’s smile that made him feel so… peculiar?

Mason stood up from behind the desk, his back cracking as he stood up straight.

“Gosh, are you okay?” Rhys’s face looked wrought with concern. Mason found it endearing. Probably from comparison of spending most days with Tristan. If his grandma actually was sick, he wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

“What do you mean?” Mason looked down at himself. The Marines had raised his pain tolerance considerably, and he would often wander around half the day with an unnoticed scrape.

“Your back! I heard it click on the freeway and again here! Do you… I could get an ice pack or one of those heat pad things,” Rhys offered, reaching to grab his wallet.

“Oh, no, old war wound. It sounds so much worse than it is. Repetitive strain from being under the hood so often,” Mason said, pulling out his phone and opening the notes app. He had lots of his passwords saved on KeePass. None of the important ones. All his bank details were sealed away in his mind.

“Do you need some ibuprofen or something?” Rhys seemed really worried about Mason’s well-being. Mason felt himself relaxing, the tension from the freeway melting away somewhat. It had been so long since anyone had asked about how he was doing. It felt nice having someone care about him, even just a little.

“Nah, nothing like that. Sometimes when it’s ice cold, it aches a bit. That’s why I came home to Texas. Always hot.” Mason knew Texans commenting on the heat was a stereotype, one of the few he leaned in to.

“You grew up in this town, in… Hidden Caves?” Rhys winced like he knew he’d gotten the name wrong.

“Hidden Creek,” Mason correctly gently. “Yeah. It’s changed a lot since I last visited. My parents moved to Florida on my last tour. I thought I’d come back and set up my own business. What brings you here? Besides that hunk of beautiful metal over there.”

“Going back home, too.” Rhys lowered the phone in his hand. Mason had forgotten how this conversation had started, something about Rhys making a phone call? “Just graduated college, heading back home to help out with the family business.”

“Oh, what kind?” Mason knew for someone like Rhys it had to be something fancy and intricate. Like their own vintage clothing line. Or brewing cider from their own orchards.

“Hardware stores.”

Mason knew that was a good business. Some of his buddies down at the gym were in construction. But Rhys didn’t strike him as a hardware kind of guy.

Wi-Fi! That was it. To call his parents.

“Sounds great! Let me give you the password so you can FaceTime them.”

“Oh yeah, that’s what we were doing.” Seemed like Rhys had gotten lost in the conversation as well.

Mason unlocked his phone, looking up the password. “It’ll be easier if I show it to you.” Mason showed Rhys his screen.

D3p3ch3M0d3

Rhys’s eyes widened at reading the complicated password.

“It’s my favorite band with numbers for vowels,” Mason explained.

“You like Depeche Mode?” Rhys looked up at Mason, his eyes lighting up.

“Well, yeah. I’m a mechanic, not a heathen.” Mason beamed at Rhys before heading back over to his car, making sure Tristan hadn’t spilled a soda into the fuel tank. Again.

Mason heard the dial tone as Rhys’s video call started to connect.

“Rhys, I thought you’d be on the road!” A male voice, presumably Rhys’s father, came through on the speaker.

“Dad, all I can see is your ear,” Rhys said, still within earshot of the Impala. Mason couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d given up on anything but phone calls when he made his monthly check-in with his own parents.

“Christ, you’re coming in loud, buddy!” Rhys’s father replied.

“It’s video call, Dad. Look at your screen.” Rhys spoke in a hushed tone as Mason couldn’t help but look over at Rhys. Something about the way he stood made Mason want to be close to him. He had made some acquaintances at the gym but spent most of his time running his business. No time for friends. Or lovers.

Maybe in another life, he and Rhys could have been good friends. Once Mason fixed his car, he’d never find out. Rhys would be gone forever.

“Oh, you’re doing the Star Trek call!” Rhys sighed at his dad’s observation. “Beth, get in here! Rhys is on a Star Trek call!”

Mason tried his best to focus back on the engine (and making sure Tristan didn’t fuck up) as he heard footsteps from the video call.

“What is it? Oh, Rhys! Hi, honey! How’s Grandpa Louie’s car? I thought you’d be on the road.” It seemed to Mason that Rhys’s mother took to the video chat a lot easier than Rhys’s dad.

“Mom, Dad, before I say anything else, I’m safe, and I’m okay — okay?” Rhys assured them. He was nervously walking around while on the video chat and had drifted back over closer to the Impala. Mason could hear him loud and clear under the hood of the car.

Mason figured he should focus on his work and not listen in.

But he couldn’t help himself.

“Of course, champ!” Rhys’s dad assured over the video call.

“Honey, you’re a grown man. We know you can take care of yourself,” Rhys’s mom insisted.

Rhys took in a deep breath before he continued. Mason looked back up over at Rhys in his light blue shirt. He would have to put that in his washing machine as promised. Mason wondered how Socket would react to the machine. He also felt his stomach drop at the thought of a topless Rhys. Which made no sense, since he was surrounded by topless men at the gym. Especially that one guy Chad, who always tried to take his top off when he was near Mason. Everyone at the gym agreed Chad was a slimeball.

“The car broke down on the freeway. I—” Rhys couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Are you hurt?” his dad said.

“Are you at the hospital?” Rhys’s mom asked. “It doesn’t look like you’re in a hospital. If you’re injured, you need to get yourself to one!”

“Rhys Jeremy Meadows, why are you not at the hospital!” Rhys’s dad chided him. Mason grimaced as he turned back to the engine. The full name from a parent was never a good sign.

“I’m not hurt, okay!” Rhys told them. Mason heard him pacing again, drifting away from the car.

“We’re coming down!” Mason could hear the sounds of car keys being picked up. “We can drive to Texas. Are you still in Texas? Wherever you are, we’ll get there and—”

“Mom. Dad. Stop!” Rhys raised his voice slightly, silence finally coming through the other side of his screen. “Smoke came out the engine. I pulled over fine. Luckily a tow truck came right along. I’m already at the garage. They’re working on it now, see.”

Mason ducked back under the hood so he looked like he wasn’t eavesdropping, his back now facing Rhys. From what he could tell, Rhys was showing them and the car on the video chat.

“Oh my god! That mechanic is built like a stevedore!” his mom said.

“Bethany Meadows!” her husband said.

“Mom!” Rhys protested.

“What? You and Glenn bond over ladies all the time, Toby. I can bond with my gay son over hot dudes. Especially one covered in sexy engine grease.” Rhys stormed away from the car as Mason almost dropped his socket wrench.

Did she just say her son was gay?

Mason awkwardly shifted under the car. He knew he wasn’t homophobic. He’d been reminded of that early in the morning.

But Rhys being gay made him feel… something. He wasn’t sure what.

As he tried to unpack his feelings, he heard Tristan snort next to him. Mason glared over at his employee. How he or Tristan felt didn’t matter, he would not let any customer of his feel uncomfortable, especially over something that didn’t matter.

But for some reason, it did matter to Mason. But why?

“Yeah, but he can hear you!” Rhys said. His parents paused before they responded.

“You seem like a nice young man!” Beth called through the screen. Rhys sighed. Mason could practically hear him pinching his nose in frustration.

“I just called to let you know I’ll probably get back home Sunday morning instead of late Saturday evening. If it takes any longer, I’ll let you know. Okay?”

“We can come pick you up!” Beth offered.

“I’ll be fine. Promise.” Rhys assured. Mason felt like he might need rescuing from the conversation. He stood up from the car, gently approaching Rhys from behind.

“Oh, hello again!” Rhys’s mom said, waving. “I’m Beth. Nice to meet you!”

Mason could clearly see the people on Rhys’s screen. They both seemed like a nice older couple. Late fifties, maybe early sixties. Both wearing matching pairs of glasses. Mason could tell this couple knew each other inside and out. Just like the couple he’d helped that morning get their daughter to the school play. Comfortable with one another completely.

Rhys turned around, looking at Mason, embarrassment covering his features.

“Looks like I gotta go. Talk soon!” Rhys had already begun to close down his call.

“Bye, champ!” his dad called out.

“Stay safe! Remember to wear a sweater! It’s winter!” Rhys’s mom reminded him.

Rhys closed his phone, breathing deep with relief.

“They seem nice,” Mason said as Rhys put his phone away.

“I’m not- I don’t think you’re… my mom means well, I didn’t—” Mason gently waved his hand for Rhys to stop, even though his stammering was adorable.

Was that an odd thing to think about another man? Adorable? He figured if Socket could be adorable, so could Rhys.

“I’m not hitting on you,” Rhys said. “Not that I wouldn’t — not that I would! Or… I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“And it’s none of my business,” Mason said. “Besides, on the whole, this town is very… what’s the phrase? QVC? BLT? Gay friendly.” It was Mason’s turn to stammer.

“LGBT?” Mason nodded as Rhys hit it on the head. “Or LGBTQ. Or LGBTQ plus.”

“That’s it! Yeah. My gym has a mixed-gender locker room. Couple guys hit on me in there. This one guy, Chad, oh my god, he just won’t take no for an answer. But I’m buddies with the owner, and he’s gay. But not in a ‘this is my one gay friend, so I’m not homophobic kind of way.’ I was friends with him for ages before I knew, before even he knew. Where was I going with this?” Mason paused, trying to remember his train of thought. “Right. You’re a guy in trouble. I’m here to help. Doesn’t matter who you love or how you express that. At least that’s what I was raised to believe.”

“Oh, cool. Thank god.” Rhys again seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I was really worried breaking down in a place like Texas.”

Mason cocked his eyebrow at such a peculiar statement. What was wrong with Texas?

“Not that like… I don’t think that, I know that—”

Mason once again interrupted Rhys’s adorable stammering. “You were worried about being chased out of town with pitchforks and torches?”

Rhys shamefully nodded.

“I can’t speak for the other towns, but not in a place like Hidden Creek. Things are changing around here. Y’know that gym I mentioned? There’s also a QVC center that just opened.” Mason grimaced. “LG… TLC?”

“LGBT,” Rhys corrected with a chuckle. “Lesbian. Gay. Bisexual. Transgender. Sometimes people throw on a Queer to encompass more orientations and a plus for further identities like nonbinary and aces.”

Mason nodded, barely understanding a word.

“If you guys are done gossiping, I’ve figured out what’s wrong,” Tristan called over to the two of them.

“I might ask some more questions, if that’s cool?” Mason probed as they walked back over to the red Impala. “About the… LGBTQ plus community. And if I say anything stupid or offensive, let me know.”

“Sure, if you go easy on me with the car talk. I sometimes still call these go-go machines,” Rhys confessed as they looked in under the hood.

“The oil pressure regulator is blown. It must have clogged after staying in storage, blocking up when you got onto the freeway and collapsing the interior chambers.” Tristan said every word like it was obvious what it meant, dumbing it down for Rhys. Mason wouldn’t even talk to a toddler like that.

“Ah, the oil in the regulator has started to congeal over time,” Mason explained. “The regulator helps feed oil to the car parts, keeping them all lubricated.”

“Oh, I know all about lu…” Rhys suddenly stopped himself, covering the end of his sentence with an awkward fake cough.

“So,” Mason continued, not sure what Rhys was getting at. “When you started stretching this baby out, the oil regulator clogged and your engine stalled since the oil couldn’t get through the regulator and to the rest of the engine.” Rhys nodded along, apparently following his words better.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tristan scoffed as he leaned in, his wispy hair dangling over the guts of the car as he pulled out a socket wrench, beginning to release the oil pressure regulator.

“All we need is to replace that, and you should be good to go.”

As soon as Mason finished his sentence, he felt a pang of sadness. Which was insane. He had only just met Rhys. But the thought of him leaving his life for good, heading out of the state, made Mason’s stomach churn in a way he could not ignore.