Page 16 of Virgin Skin

“I’m sorry…gravedigging?”

“It was good money. Once they found out I didn’t actually have the right certification to be operating the backhoe, I got fired though. Which I get, but is also bullshit because I obviously knew what I was doing, and they didn’t even give me the chance to get the certification before they fired me.” He rolls his eyes.

“If you knew what you were doing, why didn’t you just get the certification before they found out?”

“I meant to, I just kept forgetting to enroll in the stupid class.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, my point is, I’m not picky about a job as long as the pay isn’t abysmal.”

“And as long as you don’t have to take a class to get certified first,” I say dryly.

“Ideally.” He smirks.

“I know plenty of people around Fall Crosse, let me put out some feelers and see what I can find for you.”

“Shit, no, I didn’t mean that I needed your help. I was just thinking out loud. When I have a whole list of shit I have to get done, saying it out loud helps me keep my thoughts from spiraling too much.” He shakes his head and sets his mug next to him on the counter. “I’m sure that’s what Hero thinks too, that I showed up to ask for money or something.”

I want to assure him that’s not the case, but the speculation yesterday at the shop after he left was pretty much exactly that.

“I don’t think he knows what to think,” I say.

“That’s fair.” Milo chews on his bottom lip and starts swinging his legs again.

“I really don’t mind though. I’d do the same for any of my friends.” That part isn’t even a lie. Hell, I’d do the same for a perfect stranger if they asked nicely enough.

“Is that what we are? Friends?” There’s a hint of teasing in his voice that makes me want to drag him close and lick my way into his mouth.

I grunt noncommittally and jerk my head towards the cupboard where I keep the plates.

“These eggs are just about ready.”

Milo hops down and I pull the pan off the burner, my mind still busy making a list of people to call this morning about possible jobs. At least this is something to focus on that Hero would thank me for.

After breakfast I’ll take him back to the motel, I’ll help find him a job, and then as long as I can keep enough distance between us, I’m sure this attraction will eventually settle to a manageable level. I just need to keep reminding myself that he’s off limits, and sooner or later, my dick will get the memo.

I hope.

MILO

After Piston dropped me back off at the motel, I gotanothernew room key and swore up and down to the guy behind the desk that I wouldn’t forget this one. He didn’t look like he believed me, which is smart because there’s at least a fifty percent chance that I’m going to be back tomorrow for another key. Then I took a shower, jerked off three times remembering the muffled sounds I heard coming from Piston’s bedroom this morning—was he thinking about me when he got himself off?Unghfuck, I hope so. Maybe a fourth jerk session is in order—and texted Hero to make sure he still wanted me to stop by for lunch.

HERO: Yeah, swing by whenever! I know it’s still a little early, but my morning appointment canceled, so I’m just fucking around at the shop until my two o’clock shows.

I send a thumbs-up in response and then continue rifling through my clothes in search of something reasonably clean. I guess I should add ‘find a nearby laundromat’ to my growing to-do list. Ugh, having too many things to do makes me sleepy.

Look for a job? Cool, something to keep me occupied.

Look for a job, text my mom to update her, find somewhere to do my laundry, jerk off thinking about Piston a dozen more times, and order an Uber to take me to Ink Slingers? It takes all of my mental strength not to reach for the remote and crawl back under the covers to spend the afternoon binge-watching shitty daytime TV.

This time, I check my pockets three times to make sure I have my wallet, phone, and room key before I leave the motel and hop in the back of the Uber. It’s a short ride to Ink Slingers. Everything feels like it’s a short ride in Fall Crosse. It’s kind of nice. My mom and I moved around a ton, but it was almost always bigger cities. There’s something cozy about a smaller town like this.Especiallya smaller town that surprisingly has Pride flags displayed in the window of nearly every business we pass.

My stomach flutters with nerves when the driver drops me off. The car pulls away and I linger on the sidewalk for a minute, gathering my courage. This isn’t anywhere near as scary as yesterday was. Today, he already knows I’m his son and hewantsme here.

Sure, he does now, because he has no clue what a fuckup and a mess you are.

I grimace at that bitchy inner voice of mine and shake my head to clear it.

“You can do this,” I murmur to myself, pushing myself forward before I can give in to the impulse to stay rooted here on the sidewalk all afternoon.

A wall of sound hits me as I push the door open. Some guitar-heavy nineties song is playing loudly through the overhead speakers and there are several conversations going on all at once in addition to the buzz of multiple tattoo machines. It’s enough to make me dizzy, but the way half a dozen pairs of eyes turn my way all at once is distracting enough that the noise all fades into the background.

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