Page 104 of Friends Don't Kiss

Colton

“Hey,boss,whereyoubeen?” Orson asks when I show up mid-day at the garage in the Subaru. “Got us worried.”

“Huh?” Kiara’s scent was still floating in the car, and it’s like I can feel her all around me while I make my way to my office.

I hook my leather jacket behind my door and walk straight inside the bay, out of habit. Then, forgetting what I came here for, I back out again into the reception area. Maybe if I check the computer I’ll get some sense of what I should be doing today.

“Colt?” Orson asks.

“Yup?” I scroll through the calendar without really seeing anything. God I wish that snowstorm had lasted a whole week, kept us holed up for days.

“What you been up to? How was the race?”

I lift my eyes to my oldest employee and squint.The race. Right.“Um… went great, placed first.”

“Uh-huh.”

I sense something, so I add, “Got stuck down there, buddy put me up. You guys did okay without me this morning?”

Orson shuffles. “Not really. Kiara didn’t bring her muffins. Think she’s alright? Should we call her?” I draw a blank, and it must show, because he continues. “We can’t assume she’s gonna bring muffins every Monday, but she has for years, so… I think we should check on her.”

“Oh… um…” I straighten from the computer. “No, she… she’s fine. She’s totally fine… just uh…”

He frowns. “She sick? Those migraines again?”

“Yes! Yes. Migraines. That’s it.” I focus back on the computer screen.Let’s see… oil change. There. I’m gonna do that right now, get my head back in the game.

“Shame she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

I lift my eyebrows but know better than to answer.

“Who doesn’t have a boyfriend?” Patrick asks as he walks in.

“Kiara. She got one of her migraines again.”

“Oh yeah. She needs a man,” Patrick drops.

I stare them down. “What the fuck you guys talking about?”

“It’s a known fact,” Orson says, picking at his nails. “There’s a direct correlation between orgasms and migraines. The more orgasms, the less migraines.”

“She must have had a shit weekend,” Patrick concludes as he grabs an order from the printer and examines it closely.

I feel myself heat up, but I clench my jaw. I don’t need to engage in this conversation. They’re clearly trying to rile me up. Fishing for information they already have.

“I’ll be doing Craig’s oil change.” Before I even reach the first bay, I hear them laughing uncontrollably.

I should probably rough them a little for daring to bring up orgasms in the context of Kiara, but I know they didn’t mean disrespect. They just wanted to talk to me about it. Deep down, they’re happy for me, and why wouldn’t they be? She’s the best woman there is, and they do like their boss.

I grab the socket wrench and get to work. Once the drain plug is loosened, the familiar scent of oil and metal fills the air as the catch pan fills. It’s a good thing I could do this in my sleep, because while I unscrew the filter, replace the drain plug, pour new oil, check the dipstick, and go through all the routine tasks I’ve done a million times, my mind is on Kiara’s breasts, Kiara’s smile, Kiara’s heels in my butt, Kiara scent, and the sounds she makes when I take care of her.

After I’m done, I can’t stand it anymore. I get back behind the computer in the reception area and pull out my phone.

Hey beautiful

Sweets

Hi handsome. How’s your day going?

---