Page 81 of Say It Again
“That’s ’cause it tastes like weasel piss,” a voice boomed from the stairwell.
“Butchie,” Daniel squealed and ran to throw his arms around a lanky, homespun man with squinty eyes and a ballcap twisted backward. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans that sagged, held up by a weathered brown belt that looked like it’d seen some things.
Butchie lifted Daniel off the floor in a hug and smiled at Aaron over his shoulder. “So, this is him,” he said in an old-western-movie accent. “Nice to meet you, son. I’m Butch.”
“Aaron. And it’s an honor. I’ve heard wonderful things about you both.”
“Whatever you heard.” Butch peeked over his shoulder, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I was young, and I needed the money.” His eyes squinted even more when he chuckled.
Joke or not, Aaron laughed at how hard he could relate.
“That your car outside?” Butch said. “That ain’t the F-type?
“Yes, sir. The R-coupe.”
Butch’s eyebrows shot up. “Supercharged? What’s the acceleration?”
“Nothin’ to sixty, three-point-five.”
“Is this English?” Daniel asked.
“Wheweee, that car is bad.” Butch slapped Daniel on the back, sending him staggering forward a few steps. “We’re outta beer. Should we take a little ride? I could drive if you don’t want to.” That whole request was performed with a sprightly little shoulder dance Aaron would pay money to see again.
“Butchie, no,” Barbie yelled, her head inside the oven as she tested a casserole with a thermometer. “You do not ask people if you can drive their vehicles.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Aaron hastened to say. “I let Daniel drive it all the time.”
“See,” Butch hollered back at her. “He doesn’t care if it gets destroyed. He lets Daniel drive it.”
Daniel scoffed. “You total one Mini Cooper, and all of a sudden, you’re an endangerment.”
“Beer run.” Butch kissed Barbie on the cheek. “We’ll be back, woman.”
“Beer run.” Aaron kissed Daniel on the cheek. Was he smiling like a goof? He was totally smiling like a goof, but this experience was already singular. Special. He kissed him again. “We’ll be back, kid.”
DANIEL SANK into a chair as they left through the front door, laughing about some inside foreign-engine-related humor, no doubt. He fogged his wineglass with his smile.
“Lord have mercy, Danny.” His mom ruffled his hair. “What a looker.”
“Is he?” He fawned, dipping back dramatically in his chair. “I haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, is that right? Well, you sure seem extra sparkly for not noticing.”
Daniel sighed and tried not to gaze so adoringly at the front door. The love they’d just made left him feeling a bit out of control of his body, like a part of it was off on a beer run somewhere. Plus, he could still feel him every time he readjusted in his seat. Quite the distraction, indeed.
“Think you’ll make it ten whole minutes without him?”
“No, I think I might die.” He fanned himself. “Should I call him?”
“Dancake.” She chuckled as she refilled his wine. “You might be in trouble, sweet pea.”
Because he’s a hooker? Or because I would commit first-degree arson for him?
“Are you boys being safe? Using protection?” And it started. The stern eyebrow furl and all. “Trust me, honey, chlamydia sounds like no big deal until it’s sophomore year of college and pantyhose are all the rage—”
“Mom, I will pirouette right off this roof.”
“Okay.” She held up her palms. “Chill out. But you like who he is? He’s good to you?”