“Kind of.”
“Okay, so what convoluted half conversation did you have?”
“I said I didn’t know what to think. He said to take my time, but he’s open to things happening.”
“And you didn’t say anything to that?” Griff asks. “It’s not like you to hold back.”
“I don’t want to say the wrong thing or lead him on.” Ford’s … special. “We flirt a lot though. I like that.”
“Ford flirts with everyone,” Art says.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
“Well, my offer is there if you change your mind.”
“Hey …” Griff says. “When I needed experience, you said you were busy.”
Art laughs. “Because you’re a stage-five clinger, my friend. Look at what happened to the first person you slept with as a single man: you’ve basically shacked up together.”
“But you’d get your dick out for Orson no problems.”
“I do anything for my boys.”
Payne drums his fingers on the table. “So you’ve said to all of us, but seriously. Were you actually going to get your dick out?”
“It’s only sex. If one of you needs me, I’m going to help out.” He points at Griff. “Except you.”
“Help out Joey,” Griff half cough, half says into his glass.
Art ignores him, even as we all snigger.
“I’ve known Ford a long time, and Keller’s right,” Art says. “If you talk to him about it, he’ll be understanding. And hey, if you leave him with blue balls, it’ll only take him one phone call to have someone ready to fix that problem. We used to go out together, and all the twinks are weak for him, I swear.”
That immediately reminds me of Molly. And how sure Ford was that it would only take one time with him to change things. Does he still feel that way now with how things are going between us? Should I ask him about it?
He hasn’t mentioned Molly once since that night, but then, why would he?
All I know is that remembering how Molly looked at Ford—like Ford was the greatest thing he’d ever seen—fills me with jealousy. I’m …threatenedby him.
Hewouldn’t hesitate over getting on his knees for Ford. Am I going to push myself into sex to prove I’m better than the guy?
I let the panic go.
No.
I’m definitely not going to do that.
But I am going to take Keller’s advice. It’s time to stop being chickenshit and actually talk to him.
16
Ford
The music is pouringout of the garage into the yard, where I’m working with Murray on restoring a ’63 Corvette. It’s unseasonably warm for fall; my armpits are soaked, my hands are caked with engine grease, and my hat is damp over my hair, but I love it.
I have the best job in the world.
Between here and helping out Orson, I haven’t had a day off in weeks, but it doesn’t feel that way. Opposite, actually. I have more energy than I’ve had in a long time.