Page 2 of Boy Issues

“No argument there. But, do you know anything about… Well…”

Silver kept his gaze trained on the gorgeous engine, drinking in the beauty of a well-maintained car. Nothing like the junk heaps Silver’s boss at the garage expected him to restore to their former glory.

“Do I know anything about classic sports cars? Finish your sentences. It makes communicating so much easier.”

“Again, I apologize. I was just trying not to insult you again.”

Silver still wouldn’t meet Donovan’s gaze. “Too late.” Silver had spotted the Lamborghini’s issue almost right away, but had remained hunched over the vehicle to enjoy a few minutes of engine porn. He reattached a loose wire to the distributor cap then straightened, locking eyes with Donovan. “It should be fine now. Why don’t you try turning her over to be certain?”

Donovan blinked several times, regarded the car as if it had something to say, then returned his attention to Silver. “Oh. Uh, sure.”

Silver gently closed the hood as Donovan lowered himself into the driver’s seat, Silver’s touch on the shiny metal almost a caress as the tips of his fingers danced across the surface. He took a step back onto the curb and waited, his heart thumping a few ticks faster at the anticipation of the engine’s purr. He didn’t imagine he’d be disappointed, judging from how clean the guts of the sexy machine had been.

The Lamborghini rumbled to life, the low growl of the motor smoothly building to a satisfying idle, the sound hitting Silver square in the groin. “Fuck me,” he whispered to himself. What he wouldn’t give to own such a magnificent beast. Actually, he didn’t even have to own it. Partial custody would be fine, maybe drive it for a few hours on the weekend.

Silver expected Donovan to wave a ‘thank you’ at him while peeling away as though Silver were the devil in the flesh. Instead, he turned off the car then climbed back out. Silver frowned, but then figured Donovan felt obligated to give him a tip or something. That’s how people of Donovan’s ilk typically operated.

“Wow,” Donovan said as he approached. Silver was almost shocked to see his warm smile. The man was charmingly handsome when he wasn’t being a dick. “That was awesome. How did you know?” Donovan held up his palms much the same way as Silver had done earlier. “No offense. I’m genuinely interested in your story, because you obviously know what you’re doing. That’s a rare thing when it comes to vehicles like these.” His eyes hooded and the corner of his mouth quirked into a cocky smile. “I could use a man of your caliber on my payroll.”

Just when I thought there was a decent human being lurking beneath that delectable skin.

“I’m already on someone’s payroll, but thanks.”

Donovan’s eyebrows shot up. “Interesting. Do tell.” His smile transformed into a leer.

Silver let out a heavy sigh. “Look, man. I’m glad I could help, but I gotta go.”

“Wait!”

Silver froze in mid-stride, his eyebrows drawing together. “What?”

Donovan took another step closer, visibly swallowing as he ran his gaze up and down Silver’s frame before locking on his eyes. “I’d like to say thank you by buying you a drink. I know of a nice, cozy bar not too far from here in Silver Lake. Seems like a fitting place to go to, don’t you think?”

Silver crossed his arms. “Does coming on to straight guys work out for you very often?”

Donovan’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Oh dear. I find myself doing a lot of apologizing this evening.” He gave a casual, one-shouldered shrug, his cocky smile still in place. “Never know until you try.”

“Or get the shit beaten out of you. Has that happened more than once?”

Donovan bit his lower lip and Silver willed himself not to get distracted. The man was tempting, but still an asshole. He just hated the thought of Donovan taking such risks when it seemed so unnecessary. There were plenty of gay bars to choose from in the vast city, filled to the brim with willing prospects.

Donovan rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t exactly qualify my dicey encounters as ones where I’ve had the shit beaten out of me, as much as being physically reminded that my advances were unwelcome.” He inched closer. “However, sometimes my conquests can be wooed by what I have to offer.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the Lamborghini. “There’s plenty more where that came from. My collection is impressive, and I’d let you drive whichever one you liked.”

Silver pressed his lips together. The guy was incorrigible. Yet, for whatever reason, the idea of Donovan getting hurt—or worse—nagged at him. “Vet your potential conquests better. Getting beaten might be the least of your concerns one day.” Silver determined that he’d said all he could say, and it was time for them both to move on with their lives. Some snooty rich guy was unlikely to take any advice Silver had to offer anyway. “As I said, glad it all worked out. Goodnight.”

This time, when Silver turned and headed to his own car, the sound of Donovan’s footsteps moving away was all he heard. As Silver slid onto the cream leather seats of his Mustang, he paused, then yelled out a parting shot to the smug, entitled bastard. “And I never said I was straight!”

At Donovan’s startled expression, Silver grinned then revved up his engine, glad he’d tuned her up nicely that week. He roared out of the parking lot, never looking back.

Eat this, fucker.

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