Page 57 of Boy Issues

Donovan pinched his eyebrows together. “Hey, is everything all right?”

A group of oblivious attendees brushed past them in the crowd, and Donovan stumbled a bit. Silver steadied him.

“Let’s get out of this crowd as much as we can, mijo. I can’t hear myself think, let alone do any talking.”

Donovan nodded. “Yes, good plan.”

Silver glanced around the convention space. “Is there somewhere outside we can eat? I haven’t been to this show in a while.”

Donovan craned his neck. “Back there, I think.” He chuckled. “I’ve only been a few times, and it was years ago. Bunny, from Willow Springs? Every once in a while he’d talk me into it.” Donovan winced. “I hope he’s still not mad at me.”

“You bought him a brand new Viper with all kinds of extras, right?”

Donovan shrugged. “Yeah, but you know how it is. That emotional attachment you can get with a car.”

They kept shouldering their way through the crowd as they spoke.

“I know, but he’s your friend and you did right by him. I’m sure his main concern was that you weren’t hurt any more than you were.” Silver smacked Donovan’s arm. “Which is never happening again, right?”

Donovan rolled his eyes so that Silver couldn’t see. He’d almost jokingly said, ‘Yes, Daddy’, but that would’ve only gotten him hot, so wrong result.

“I promised I’d be careful and not have macho stand-offs with…” Donovan frowned. “What was the term?”

“Pinche culero. Motherfucker, baby. No racing with motherfuckers.”

Donovan grinned. “Excellent advice.”

They finally made their way out of the far side of the building and discovered the food court. Even though the area was still packed, it wasn’t at the sardine-level the way it had been inside.

Donovan bemoaned the fact once again that he couldn’t at least loop his arm through Silver’s, or if nothing else, lean against his frame. He supposed he was being a bit needy. After all, until recently, he’d had nothing. No one who would even be worth him putting his arm around or holding hands with in public.

“What are you in the mood for?”

Silver smiled up at him, as if trying to make Donovan forget that something was troubling him. But Donovan could tell. Something must have happened before he’d picked Donovan up.

Donovan smiled back. Once they’d gotten something on their stomachs, he’d broach the subject. Even though Silver had taken on the role of Donovan’s caretaker in many ways, that didn’t mean Donovan couldn’t be there for Silver too. A part of him worried that maybe Silver didn’t have enough confidence in him as an advisor. Donovan hated to admit it was true, but he wouldn’t blame Silver if he didn’t.

Once they’d opted for roasted corn on a stick and a couple of burgers, they found a spot at the end of a reasonably clean picnic table. The other side was occupied with an older couple who were thankfully in their own world. They ate in silence for a while, people-watching as they enjoyed the break from all the walking around.

“Check it out.” Silver gazed past Donovan’s shoulder and Donovan angled his head to see what he was referring to. “That guy in the ten-gallon hat? I bought my first ride off him.”

Donovan arched his eyebrows then turned to Silver. “Not the Mustang?”

“Nah. A Firebird. I only had it about six months, but it sure was a blast.”

Donovan chuckled. “Did you race it?”

“Hell yeah. But not street.” Silver took a slug of his soda. “A group of us used to go out to Mojave and hold races there.”

“Any wagering go on while you were tearing around the desert?”

The corner of Silver’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Why do you think I only had the Firebird for six months?”

They burst into laughter, and Donovan was pleased that something had broken through the cloud of melancholy hanging over Silver’s head. But Donovan couldn’t stand it. Silver might have patience, but he didn’t. He was on a need to know right fucking now basis with everything in his life, but especially with this man who meant so damn much to him.

“Hey.” Donovan poked Silver’s soda can with the tip of the ravaged corn cob. “I know something’s bothering you.”

“It’s okay, mijo. I want us to enjoy our day.” Silver nudged Donovan’s toe with the tip of his boot.

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