Grateful to get back to business, Dylan said, “So the bike is cold. Which means you’ll need to turn the fuel tap.” He crossed back to Alec’s motorcycle to point out the various parts as he continued. “The choke needs to be all the way down. After giving her a few primer kicks, then you return your choke to one click below. Key on, one quarter throttle”—he touched the handle of the Harley—“and she should fire right up.”
At the lost look on Alec’s face, Dylan hesitated. Did the guy even know the purpose of the choke? Seriously, the man had no business owning a vintage bike. He should have started with a friggin’ moped.
“Remember, this machine has a lot of compression,” Dylan went on. “You gotta respect her. The kickback can throw you over the handlebars.”
Alec’s expression shifted from slightly lost to vaguely concerned, and Dylan suppressed the sigh. The “quick” visit was going to take longer than he’d thought. And certainly more time than he could afford.
First things first, Booth.
“Why don’t you let me show you how to start her?” Dylan said.
Dylan mounted the motorcycle and ran through the process, explaining each step as he went and firing her up on his second try. Satisfaction rolled through him, and he revved the engine for a moment, enjoying the lumpy rumble unique to a Harley.
“I’ll take her for a spin to warm her up,” he said over the noise. “It’ll be easier for you to practice when she’s not so cold.”
Alec nodded, and Dylan backed her out and headed down the driveway.
Instantly, he relaxed, cruising up the street. Despite his totally clueless state, Alec had managed to choose well. Dylan settled back on the leather seat, getting more comfortable. What a sweet ride. With all the crap piled high on his current schedule, when was the last time he’d taken a trip with no destination in mind, just for fun?
Felt like forever.
Dylan tooled up the road and around the block, enjoying the agility and smooth suspension before returning her to the driveway. While the bike continued to idle, vibrating beneath Dylan, he glanced at Alec, who appeared to be having second thoughts about his purchase. Not being able to start her would definitely put a damper on things.
“Listen,” Dylan said over the rumbling engine, “if you want, this week after work I can teach you all her quirks.”
In what spare time?
Dylan pushed the annoying thought aside. If nothing else, the Harley deserved an educated driver. He could afford an hour at the end of his day. Besides, Alec wasn’t the total stick-in-the-mud Dylan had envisioned. Despite going against Dylan’s advice, the man’s dedication to his purchase was beginning to grow on Dylan.
Alec looked relieved. “That would be great.”
“Since tomorrow’s Sunday, we’ll start in the morning.” Dylan nodded at the Harley. “You ready to give her a whirl?”
“Yeah,” Alec said, reaching for the handle. “I just—”
Alec’s gaze caught and held on something in the distance, his lips tightening, and he briefly closed his eyes before facing the road. Dylan glanced over his shoulder and discovered the reason for the interruption.
An athletic looking guy in running shorts and shoes closed the driver’s door of a sleek Range Rover now parked across from Alec’s house. A second man exited the car. Dylan killed the switch on the Harley, and the motor died, the last rumble vibrating in the air.
“Christ,” Alec murmured. “Tyler brought his boyfriend.”
Tyler, as in the Tyler Michael Hall listed on the wedding invitation. Well, that explained the wigged-out look on Alec’s face. They watched the two men open the trunk of the Range Rover.
“I can’t believe he brought his new boyfriend,” Alec said again. “Damn it.”
Stunned by the force behind Alec’s whispered words, Dylan turned back to Alec. The dude who’d gracefully faced total public humiliation on the streets of San Francisco seemed to be losing his shit. Anxiety shimmered in his eyes. Apparently, his composure and sense of humor evaporated when facing his ex.
“How am I supposed to act?” Alec whispered forcefully. “Friendly? Coolly cordial? Or do I just ignore the new boyfriend? I know one thing for sure. I definitely don’t want to act like the desperate ex.” Alec shoved his hair back from his face, the rising panic rolling off him in waves thick enough to choke a horse. “And, good God, what was I thinking asking Tyler to come get his stuff?”
Unfortunately, Alec rambled on, and Dylan shot a glance at the two men now approaching. Just what he didn’t have time for, getting sucked into the middle of a goddamn soap opera. Alec’s disjointed mumblings finally died out as Tyler made his way up the driveway.
Alec’s voice sounded strained, but at least all signs of his babbling had vanished. “Hey, Tyler.”
The ex, in contrast, looked completely unruffled.
“This is the motorcycle you bought?” Tyler had black hair, cool gray eyes, and a tiny crease of concern between his eyebrows. “Are you trying to get yourself killed, Alec?”