Page 17 of Boy Issues

Chapter Six

“Yo, Erika. Grab those vice grips for me, will ya?”

Silver examined the engine block of the Trans Am he’d been working on for months for himself whenever he could spare the time or a bit of extra money. He considered the little beauty a palette cleanser between the jobs for his boss. Sure, he might be living the dream by working on rare classic cars, but it wasn’t his dream. At least, not the full one he planned to have one day soon.

Once he got this ride all tricked out and restored the way she was meant to be, he’d sell her to a collector and make a tidy profit. More fat stacks for him, less time working on someone else’s dream.

“Here.” Erika handed him the grips. “Where’d you find this one. Autotrader?”

She popped open a root beer, then leaned against the long work bench that ran the back of the cement block wall. When Silver had first gotten there, he’d had to repaint the entire place and practically gut it to make the garage workable again. More importantly, to make it to his own specifications. The table was one of the few things that had survived his purge.

“No, man. Saw it in someone’s yard.”

He gripped the stubborn bolt, but it wouldn’t budge. The bolt had pretty much been cemented on there by years of oil and grease from no attempt to keep such a fine machine clean. It looked as if he was going to need more WD-40, and if all else failed, smack it good and hard with a hammer

“Yeah? Sweet. Whereabouts?”

She took a noisy chug of her drink then let out a loud belch that echoed throughout the expansive, open two-story high space. His apartment was on the second floor, but it only took up a third of the overall square footage.

“I was taking York over the hill to get to work on time, and spotted it in someone’s yard.”

He straightened, then dragged his forearms across his sweaty brow. The temps were hitting the mid-eighties most days now, which would be nothing once summer hit. He had two industrial sized fans going, but that would barely make a difference soon enough.

“Where’s Bo?”

He moved past Erika to the mini-fridge, the main purpose of the appliance being to hold drinks for both him and his friends. He fished out a bottle of water then cracked the cap open. He swallowed half the contents down in one large gulp.

She snickered. “Damn, son. I bet your boyfriends like you.”

Silver shook his head. “Funny.”

He and Erika went way back, had grown up and gone to school together on the same block. The Martinez and Cruz family had shared a lot of birthdays, weddings, barbecues and quinceañeras with each other over the years.

But the bond between him and Erika stemmed from them having a special understanding. Like Nico, she’d been there for him when he’d come out to his folks, and he’d done the same for her when it was her turn. Neither of their families had cast them out, but neither had they rejoiced.

Silver had always felt Erika’s situation had been more difficult than his. She wasn’t just a lesbian, she was a stud. When Mr. Martinez’s baby girl started getting tats, face piercings, shaved the side of her head and switched from dresses to cargo shorts—he’d turned even colder to her. After that, she’d given up trying to reach out to him at all, or to pretend to be anything other than who she was.

“Still haven’t answered my question. Where’s Bo? It’s been at least a week since she dropped by with you, and you guys used to be joined at the hip.”

Erika crushed her soda can then tossed it into the recycling bin. “Yeah, whatever. The puta’s (whore’s) probably joined at someone else’s hip by now.”

“Hey. Chica (girl).” Silver nudged her toe with the tip of his boot. “Don’t be that way. Remember who you’re talking to. I know you had mad love for her.”

Erika kept her eyes trained on the shop floor, her head down and shoulders slumped. With a sigh, she lifted her gaze. “Why’d she have to do me like that? I gave her whatever she wanted, and she gave me nothing but attitude.”

Silver pressed his lips together, anger building within him over someone mistreating his friend.

“I warned you before about doing that, back when you were with Gabby. I know you want to give your girls the world—I of all people understand that—but they have to respect you in return. Set your boundaries from the start.”

Silver rubbed the back of his neck, the grime and sweat of his workday coating the palm of his hand. Thoughts of his exchange with Donovan the night before had jumped into his head. Whatever it was about the guy Silver found intriguing, he wasn’t about to allow Donovan to speak to him the way he had. Fuck that.

Erika ran a hand across the top of her head, sweeping her black curtain of hair over to reveal the snake head tattoo on the side she kept shaved. “Yeah. You’re right. Still figuring out how to keep from getting stepped on.”

Silver nodded, giving her another nudge with his toe. “I got your back. You know that, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” She punched his arm. “Don’t you forget it, ese.”

Silver barked out a laugh, then turned toward the noisy engine of his boss’s favorite ride. God, he hated that thing. If only Carl would let Silver get his hands on the old Rolls, then he could make it purr like a kitten. But there were a few models in Carl’s personal collection he insisted on taking care of himself. However, that didn’t mean the man knew what he was doing.

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