Page 16 of Indigo Sky

The oil leak had been fixed, but the puddle spreading across the floor was slowly taking over the back corner of the shop. I quickly began moving some old tires to avoid them getting covered as I listened to Nate's conversation up front.

"Miss McLaughlin here has a flat," Roy said. "You got a minute to take care of her?"

"Yeah," Nate said, albeit begrudgingly. "Come on. Where's your car?"

“She’s a valued customer around here, Manning. You take care of her!” Roy called after him.

The tinny bell above the door jingled. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played over Roy's crackly stereo as I dumped water and degreaser over the puddle, then grabbed the mop. Ten minutes ticked by before the bell tinkled again, and my ears perked up.

"All right. So, that's gonna be sixty bucks. You paying with cash or credit?"

"Um … credit, I guess," a soft feminine voice said, almost reluctantly. Like she wasn't sure if it was the right answer. “This is my dad’s card—is that okay? My wallet’s in the car.”

“It’s all good,” Nate grunted.

A few more seconds went by. Then, the register's drawer dinged open before closing again.

"All right. You're all set."

"Thanks so much."

"Yeah, no prob."

"Have a nice day."

"Yep, you too."

The bell tinkled, and Nate came back from up front. On his face was the biggest, shit-eating smirk I'd ever seen.

As he entered the break room and dropped down into his chair, he turned to me and grabbed his sandwich. "You missed it."

"What? Another tire change?" I snorted a sardonic laugh. "Oh, man, definitely gonna cry myself to sleep tonight over that one."

"Nope." He took a bite of his sandwich, then let it fall back onto the paper bag he'd brought it in. "You should've seen this chick." He held his hands out over his chest, imitating a pair of big tits. "Beautiful. Oh my fucking God. Dude, I wanted to bury my face between those things."

I forced a laugh, shaking my head, feeling my face grow hot. "Nice."

"Theywere." He threw his head back and groaned like he was in pain. "Fuck, I need to get laid."

I focused on mopping up the solution of water, degreaser, and broken-down oil. The embarrassing truth was that I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin. Never even been kissed.

Nate though? Nate didn't seem to have an issue. Who the fuck knew how he managed to convince girls to hook up withhim? I never paid close enough attention to his methods to learn, and really, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

The thought of screwing random girls without any sort of attachment to them didn't appeal to me. And maybe that had come from growing up with loving parents who were still, all these years later, together and seemingly happy. I understood that Nate hadn’t had that. I understood his mom hadn't given much of a fuck about him, and her strange relationship with her boyfriend had been … well, I wasn’t really sure what it had been, to be honest, because Nate never really talked much about it.

Anyway, my point was, I understood that our contrasting attitudes toward sex and women had likely stemmed from our differences in upbringing. I didn't hold it against him. It was just difficult to imagine wanting less than commitment andmeaning. As fuckin’ lame as that probably sounded.

"You wanna go out tonight?" Nate asked, lifting his head.

"I dunno," I replied, pushing the mop through the mess. "I gotta buy smokes. I don't have money to drop on booze."

"I'll buy," he taunted.

Then, I turned to look at him, flashing him a grin over my shoulder. "Well, shit, if you're buying, who the hell am I to say no?”

***

We were going to grab some Taco Bell for dinner, hit up one of the bars on Main Street, and then walk back home with or without a chick or two in tow. It was a good plan. A safe one for a Friday night, the start of the weekend. I was already looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday before my afternoon shift at the shop, and I was excited to head over to my parents’ place for dinner on Sunday.

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