And, Jesus, he’d never recover from the brief thought that Alec holding a baby was cute.
“That was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen, man,” Dylan said to Alec.
Alec raised a brow in question.
“Baby slobber,” Dylan said.
Alec grinned as they parted, and he rounded his car before stopping at the door. “This coming from the man covered in grease.”
Dylan mentally winced. So, yeah, Alec found the mess a total turn-off. “But that’s not nearly as gross,” Dylan said in protest. He covered the awkward feeling with a teasing grin. “And now we got that slobber on our hands.”
“Do I have to shower before you’ll touch me?”
Dylan’s heart stopped in his chest. Maybe he could salvage this outing yet. He’d have to, cuz right now he itched to be climbing into the car. Dylan hated that he couldn’t get his hands on Alec during the trip back. Nothing Dylan could do about that now though, especially while covered in grease and sweat and baby drool.
Brilliant. Derailed by a 1955 Triumph and a malfunctioning four-month-old.
“No. But you gotta at least wash your hands first. Or…” Dylan tossed Alec a wicked smile as he headed toward his bike. “I’ll be happy to touch you in the shower.”
Alec chuckled, and Dylan threw his leg over his motorcycle. Tonight Alec’s Harley would just have to do as a replacement to the Triumph. The new saddlebags for Alec’s bike had arrived several days ago, which provided the perfect excuse.
Eager to get back to Alec’s house and salvage his plan, he looked back at Alec. “I need to pick up the Allen wrenches at my house so we can replace the bags on your bike.”
Alec’s hand paused on the door handle. “You want me to follow you there?”
The words not necessary formed on Dylan’s lips, but he bit them back. He’d fallen into the comfortable routine of spending about three out of every four nights at Alec’s place. Not once had Dylan invited Alec to his home. Of course, Alec’s house was a hell of a lot nicer than Dylan’s apartment, so the setup only made sense.
But maybe Alec would loosen up a little after seeing where Dylan lived. It wasn’t like viewing his apartment meant they were attached at the hip or something stupid like that. Of course, other than their discussion about Rick the night of the poker run, the conversations had been kept well away from anything personal. Oh, there’d been some indirect attempts for sure, but Alec’s subtle tries to gain more information had been ignored by Dylan.
Taking a shower was easy. Changing clothes? A no-brainer. Cracking open his chest so more of the crap he kept inside could spill out? Oh, hell no.
But Alec had asked and refusing would be rude, even for Dylan.
“Sure.” Dylan let the dregs of his resistance go. “I’ll be careful not to lose you.”
The crinkles around Alec’s eyes were reassuring. “As if you could.”
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the driveway of his landlord’s well-kept home of concrete block and stucco, the white offset by blue shutters. Brightly colored flowers lined the front walkway, and trees dotted the front yard. Dylan found the scene soothing, despite the fact the main housed looked as if fucking Mary Poppins was about to land on the roof.
Alec parked behind Dylan and exited the car. “Is that the sex swing you keep referring to?” Alec asked with a nod at the front porch swing.
Unfortunately, Alec’s comment held more humor than heat. In fact, the lack of heat in Alec’s look was disappointing.
Dylan let out an amused grunt. “Hardly.”
He tried hard not to think about how much he longed to tease the fire back into Alec’s eyes as they made their way around back, up the stairs, and into his garage apartment. The sparse living room and bathroom were functional. His bedroom on the other hand? Definitely a contender for the Worst Bachelor Pad Ever award. The kitchen was almost none existent, but he didn’t cook anyway. Dylan had never cared before, so why did he feel awkward and anxious now?
He just needed to grab his tools and get them both back to Alec’s place, where everything felt more…normal.
Alec’s gaze swept over the furniture pieces that looked exactly like what they were, a starter set for a college student who’d used the shit out of them and then paid Dylan to haul the stuff away.
“Homey,” Alec said.
As a teasing comment, the words fell flat. Mostly because Alec no longer looked relaxed; he looked distracted. And not in a good way.
Dylan rolled his eyes. “You’re as bad as Noah,” he said. “The rent is good and includes the garage beneath.”
Before Alec could comment further, Dylan escaped into his bedroom. Yep, good plan. Get some clean clothes and then get the heck out of here. In the meantime, he wracked his brains to come up with something to fill the strained silence. Anything to get them back to more familiar ground.