Surprised at the share, Alec said, “Your dad was into motorcycles?”
“Yep. But he was into the booze more. Spent the majority of his time passed out drunk.” He paused and shifted on his feet awkwardly before crossing to pick up the chain on the drop cloth. “I preferred passed out over awake though. Didn’t have to dodge his fists then.”
Alec’s heart caught, and he had to fight the urge to press his forehead to Dylan’s back, to wrap his arms around him. Not for sex, but to hold on to Dylan and simply be.
But Alec knew that kind of touching wasn’t welcome. “I’m sorry.”
“Happens,” Dylan said with a shrug
“Not much of a home life.”
The bark of laughter held less bitterness than Alec would have thought. “Growing up,” Dylan said, “I made sure to spend most of my time elsewhere. When things finally got bad enough, living on the streets became the better option.”
Alec waited, but Dylan didn’t go on. In light of Dylan’s closed-lip behavior so far, Alec knew he wouldn’t get this opportunity again. He hated bringing the subject up, but he plowed ahead anyway.
“Do you know where your mother is?” Alec asked
“Nope.” Dylan absently fingered the motorcycle chain dangling in his hands. “And I don’t know whether my old man’s drinking caused my mother to leave or was triggered by her departure. Guess I’ll never know.”
Though the words were far from cheerful, they lacked the starkness present when he talked about Rick. Obviously losing his friend had affected him the most, which only made Alec’s heart hurt more.
“Doesn’t really matter,” Dylan said, placing the chain on a worktable. “Gone is gone.”
Gone is gone.
Alec had been curious about Dylan’s past since learning about the three years he’d spent on the streets. Now that Alec knew more, he hardly felt better. Their seriously nontraditional relationship didn’t help matters either. Although Dylan did the buddies thing well, he avoided anything truly personal. And Alec had no idea how to negotiate a relationship based on two fractured pieces: easygoing friend and sexual partner.
How could he offer comfort when he wasn’t allowed to touch outside of sex? And how was he supposed to initiate sex with someone he wasn’t allowed to show affection for?
The nonstop merry-go-round in his head left him dizzy. Fortunately, in the bedroom, Alec’s awkwardness didn’t matter because the man was on Alec every chance he got. In that sense, letting Dylan set the pace had worked out well. Sadly, Dylan seemed obsessed with taking showers, which made Alec’s fantasy of garage sex with a dirty, sweaty Dylan unlikely.
Alec gazed at Dylan, the sweat-dampened T-shirt plastered to the broad back, muscles shifting with every change of Dylan’s posture. Given the end-of-the-day, stuffy temperature in the garage, the additional surge of heat nearly did Alec in.
From the first moment he’d laid eyes on Dylan, he’d found the man thrilling. He adored the brash attitude and rough edges and finely honed physique. Three days ago Alec had come home and found Dylan working on his motorcycle built for speed, looking like a fantasy incarnate. Alec had almost choked on his own tongue. But, as usual, he kept his hands to himself and waited for Dylan to make the first move.
His decision to let Dylan set the pace had worked so far. What Alec had today was so much better than Dylan’s absence, and Alec feared upsetting the status quo. Besides, by now he’d figured out that this relationship would proceed one small step at a time. He was willing to be patient. But the bachelor bid comment still ate away at his confidence, reminding Alec of the massive question that constituted their future.
Suddenly, those small steps forward felt grossly inadequate. What if Dylan got skittish? What if tomorrow he woke up and declared their lopsided relationship over? Alec had known from the beginning their time was limited.
Damn, this was limited.
Alec scraped his hair back from his face, willing his pulse to quit freaking out. Before he’d wanted to push Dylan away to protect himself, now all Alec wanted was to pull him close and hold on tight.
Dylan eyed Alec with concern. “I should open the garage door,” Dylan said, passing by Alec. “Let in a cool breeze.”
Alec’s arm shot out, stopping Dylan in his tracks. “Don’t,” Alec ground out. “I need…”
Chapter Twelve
Dylan’s confused expression sent an awkward wave of heat up Alec’s face, and he briefly lost the ability to speak. He couldn’t wait anymore. Just like the discussion about Dylan’s parents, Alec might never get this chance again.
He gripped Dylan’s wrist tight and managed to croak out five more words. “Just don’t open the door.”