I nod. “Probably. Got into a huge fight with my dad, and don’t really want to be there, you know?”
It’s Josiah’s turn to nod, and I don’t doubt that he does, in fact, know what I mean. His tongue pokes out as he drags it across his bottom lip, and my eyes drop to track the movement.
I swallow thickly as a shiver runs through me.I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips…
Whoa…That thought takes me by surprise, as does my perusal of his mouth, and my eyes shoot up to meet his, my cheeks heating as if he can hear my thoughts. Rubbing the back of my neck with the palm of my hand, I clear my throat and say, “Tonight was fun.”
Josiah throws me a half smirk, his hand reaching for the doorknob. “Yeah, it was. Get some sleep.”
He leaves, and I’m left staring at the door he just walked through.
Shaking my head of the confusing and unfamiliar thoughts that most definitelyshould notbe in there, I jog up the stairs, and go into the bathroom beside Lana’s room, brushing my teeth with nothing more than my finger and a glob of toothpaste before I climb into bed beside her.
I’d like to say that I don’t lie beside my girlfriend for hours, thinking about her uncle in a way that’s inappropriate before I finally fall asleep.
But to say that would be a bold-faced lie.
2
SEGAN
There’re grease stains on the wife beater Josiah’s wearing. His skin is golden tan, arms and shoulders muscled, chest wide. It’s about all I can do to stand here beside him, smelling the scent of whatever deodorant he wears, and maintain my composure as he explains the task to me.
“Okay, so, you’ve never worked on a car before, correct?” he asks, squinting against the early afternoon sun.
He’s been circling my mind on a constant loop since that night at Lana’s. More specifically, the way his presence made me feel.
Is this a crush? Or am I just seeking some sort of male role model at a rough time in adolescence? That’s a thing, right? I’m not close with my father, so surely, I’d look up to someone else. Even if it feels like I’m completely enamored by him lately, those feelings could easily be something else entirely.
As I stand here, watching as he swipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, the dark hair under his arm showing, making my stomach tingle, I don’t think I’m looking at Josiah like a male role model, though. I think I’m looking at him like I’m noticing for the first time how attractive he is. How patient he is. How the lines around his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I’m noticing a lot that I never did before.
But what does it mean? Where is it coming from?
I’m into chicks. Into Lana—my girlfriend.
Realizing he asked me a question, and not wanting to seem like a brainless moron, I respond, “Nope, I’ve never worked on cars before.”
“That’s okay,” he replies with a wave of his hand. “We all gotta start somewhere, and changing the oil is a great starting point. It’s a relatively simple task once you know what you’re doing.”
Nodding, I murmur, “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Josiah chuckles. He jumps right into showing me what to do; using a jack stand to lift the car so we can climb under, unplugging and draining the oil. There’s a lot more oil in the car than I would’ve figured. While he’s going through all of this, he’s explaining everything to me. Honestly, though, gun to head, I couldn’t recite any of it back to him.
Not because I don’t care, but because his proximity is doing things to me. My heart’s hammering inside my chest, the beat hard, pattering off my ribs, drumming loudly in my ears. A thin sheen of sweat lines the back of my neck, dampening the hair along my nape, and I think it has less to do with the temperature outside and more to do with his closeness. The way I can smell the mint gum on his breath when he turns his head to tell me something. The way he’s got a smudge of grease on the right side of his forehead. And the way his biceps flex, the cords on his forearms bulging as he does this or that under the car.
“Next, we’re going to want to find and remove the old oil filter,” Josiah goes on, and I do my best to pay better attention. “It's the softball-sized cylindrical component screwed onto the engine. Here, see?” He leans over a little, letting me invade his space, looking up at where he’s pointing.
Peering over at him, our eyes meet, and a spark shoots down my spine. I nod, letting him know I see it, before scooting back over to my spot so he can resume. He drains the plug before showing me how to put the new filter on, then we shimmy out from under the car. As he lowers the car back to the ground, my body is fully in-tune with every single muscle on his back that bunches and ripples in the process.
There’s no denying to myself that I’m checking him out. But why? Where is this coming from? Am I attracted to all men now, or is it just him? A twinge of guilt pulses from my gut at the fact that I’m attracted to my girlfriend’s uncle. I know that’s shitty and wrong. But it also makes my heart beat faster and my blood run hot, thinking about how different he is compared to the girls I’ve checked out in the past—from how different he is even to Lana.
His arms, colored from the sun and dusted with dark hair, are such a contrast to her smooth, porcelain skin. Hands, most likely calloused and rough from working on cars day in and day out, are so different from her soft, dainty ones. My body flushes as I imagine the way his facial hair would feel scratching against my face. Would it tickle my lips? Would it irritate my skin? Would I love it?
“Segan?” I’m pulled from my thoughts again as Josiah waves a hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, what? Zoned out there for a moment.”
“I asked if you had any hobbies?”
