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-DurtyRiter
The Man with the Jeep
Chapter 67
Andrew was terribly embarrassed, but he couldn't take his eyes off Alex.
"I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I didn't realizeÉ" and then he trailed off into nothing.
"No worries," Alex replied good-naturedly as he gracefully moved to a normal standing posture. "But could you maybe close the door?"
"Oh! Yes, of course!" Andrew mumbled, closing the door quickly as he spoke.
"Thanks. I'd rather not be completely out in the open even though I have nothing to hide."
No, you don't, Andrew thought. It felt like ripping Velcro to peel his gaze away from the stunning man before him, but he managed it and made it into the stall to do his business. He dropped his drawers and sat down, but he was too hard to do anything.
Go down, go down, go down, go down,' Andrew thought to his raging dick. Go down!'
"It really is nice to meet you," Alex said from the other side of the partition. "John and Thea both rave about you, and I have to say you seem pretty cool to me too."
"Thanks man," he said out loud. "You seem great tooÑjust as John described you."
He heard the urinal flush and pictured Alex folding that precious hose back into his pants and closing the front.
Alex continued chatting as if it was the most normal thing in the world to converse in the restroom. Andrew had never been comfortable doing that, and this was definitely no exception.
"What do you do for work again?"
"Glorified paper pusher," Andrew managed to get out.
"Oh yeah," Alex said as he turned on the water to wash his hands. "For some reason I was thinking of gardens and plants."
Andrew could feel himself being pulled into the conversation despite his reticence, but the more Alex talked, the less Andrew could think about anything besides him and his amazing body standing at the sink less than ten feet away. He was probably gazing at his richly dark curly hair, immaculate complexion, and impossibly perfect teeth in the mirror with his piercing blue eyes to make sure he was still presentable. As if he wouldn't be absolutely breathtaking no matter how disheveled he could possibly become.
"Well, I am getting ready to open my own nursery," Andrew replied.
"Oh yeah! That's what I was thinking of," Alex responded as he pulled paper towels out of the dispenser. "When does that open?"
"I'm not sure yet," Andrew admitted. "I hope to get started next month, but it will be a lot of work before I can open. The place was abandoned years ago."
"I remember a place like that out on the highway," Alex said as he dried his hands. "Kind of by The Jacks, I think."
"That's the place," Andrew confirmed.
"Wow, you have your work cut out for you!" Alex exclaimed heartily. "I wish you best of luck on that."
"Thanks."
"See you out there," Alex said as he opened the door.
"Will do!" Andrew replied.
He heard the door thud shut softly. Finally alone. With a throbbing boner. He had to piss, but that was impossible when he was hard. And he was too amped up to relax enough to drop a number two.
While he waited for himself to deflate, he reflected on what had just happened. Blindsided first thing by the unexpected sight of Alex's glory and then sucked into conversation while he sat on the pot. He wondered how abnormal he had sounded. Was his distraction obvious? Did he answer Alex promptly, or was there a time delay from his "dickstraction?" He had no idea. All he could do was hope for the best.
These sobering questions and the absence of his muse helped his ardor subside enough to get his business done. Eventually.
When he finally made it out, he made his way back to the table where John was still waiting for him.
Thea had returned while Andrew was absent, and they were chatting it up and laughing like the good friends they were.
Andrew hadn't been there a minute before Alex also came back to the table.
He caught an odd look on John's face for just an instant as he looked from Andrew to Alex and then back to Andrew.
What was that about, Andrew wondered.
"Did you fall in or something?" John smilingly asked him with a friendly poke in the ribs. "I thought I was going to have to go rescue you."
"Sorry," the suddenly red-faced Andrew replied. "I'm fine though."
"As long as you're good," answered John.
Andrew noticed another quick flick of John's eyes toward Alex before the topic was mercifully changed.
The four of them traded stories of adventure, past glories, and future plans.
It turned out Alex had always wanted to be a chef, so he was on that track and had no regrets. In his spare time, he was trying to unearth the oldest Greek recipes he could find to see if there were ways to incorporate them into the restaurant's menu to elevate it beyond the norm and add some distinctive character.
John reiterated to Alex and Thea what he told Andrew before about growing into a minor real estate mogul, possibly starting with Andrew's house if he was amenable during his transition from clerk to CEO of a nursery.
This spawned several stories of their young antics at the greenhouse, where they regularly made nuisances of themselves to the poor Bradshaws just trying to keep their business afloat as the three terrors ran roughshod through their plants.
For her part, Thea didn't overly mind working at the restaurant, though she would much prefer to be a curator or docent at the cultural museum downtown.
"I like being around people and helping my family, knowing that this place will stay with our family for generations, but I also love teaching people, and there's not as much of that around here."
"Did you get a degree in anything?" asked Andrew.
"Yeah, in history, but there's no money there, really."
"Unless you are a docent or something like you were talking about."
"Maybe."
"You could also teach classes at the university."
"I think I'd like that," Thea said. "I think I probably make more money here, but a teaching schedule sounds better, so I'm not sure."
"Good point," Andrew acceded.
The more time he spent chatting and getting to know Alex and Thea, the more he appreciated what nice people they were, inside and out. The rest of the day passed more quickly than it seemed it should have, which to Andrew always meant time well spent.
As the night approached and then progressed, families started leaving one by one, generally by the age of the youngest or oldest member of the family. There were few left by the time John and Andrew decided to call it a night.
Ever since his first visit to the restroom, Andrew felt that there was something off between him and John. There were enough conversations and things happening throughout the party that Andrew put this puzzle on the back burner of his mind to focus on being in the moment, but now that the party had died down, it was coming back to the fore.
As they made their way to the car, John said very little. To be fair, neither did Andrew, but that wasn't too far out of the ordinary for him.
What John did say was normal, although it seemed less vibrant somehow. If he hadn't clued in to it earlier, Andrew would have simply chalked it up to being tired, but now he suspected it may be due to something else.
Then the thought dawned on him that whatever it was that was bothering him could have happened even earlier than that. But how far back?
After mulling it over for a while, he finally decided to grab the bull by the horns.
"So, what's up with you?" he asked John directly.
"Nothing, why?"
"You seem quieter than normal."
"I do?"
"Yes, you do."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize," Andrew said quickly. "I'm just worried about you."
"No need to worry about me," John assured him. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure? I thought you might just be tired, but I feel like there's something else going on that I don't know about."
"No," John said. "You definitely know everything."
"Okay," Andrew replied. "Just to remind you, I'm here for you for the long haul."
"Thanks," John answered. "I appreciate that."
After that, Andrew stopped trying to coax more out of him. He was not in any way appeased though. In fact, those were the last words they spoke during the admittedly short drive to Andrew's house from the party. Andrew grew more and more certain something was up, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and if John didn't want to talk about it, he was not about to try to force it. That never went well in his experience.
John pulled the car into Andrew's driveway and up to the garage.
"There you are, my love," he said. "Did you have fun?"
"Yeah. It was really nice getting to know your grandparents, Alex, and Thea. And you already know how much I love to spend any time with you I can."
"I do?" John asked with a smile.
"Well, I have spent every weekend and most lunch hours with you, after all," he said, grinning. "That's true," John admitted. "Though I'm hoping you don't feel obliged to."
"Oh my god, John. I may not like conflict, but if I weren't interested, you'd know it. I'm not good at hiding stuff like that, as you well know."
"I do," John confirmed. "Thank you for spending the weekend with me. I hope it was worth your while."
"Always," Andrew said as he leaned in for a kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too," John said before meeting Andrew's lips with his own.
More than a token peck and less than a passionate face mauling, it was the perfect good night kiss.
It was the last perfect thing of Andrew's week.
John had to cancel their ongoing lunch date three out of the next five weekdays and the remaining two were as subdued as the post-party drive home had been. Then he left for another unexpected work trip for the weekend.
Andrew could barely admit to himself that it was a good thing because he had been procrastinating on several things around the house that needed to be doneÑespecially if he was going to sell it.
That part he could grudgingly acknowledge. What he couldn't fathom was John's change in behavior and demeanor.
He thought things to death as they went round and round in his head and he exhausted his memory wracking it for clues. It was like the lights went out at the party and Andrew couldn't for the life of him find the switch to flip it back on.
He even went so far as to call The Jacks to get in touch with Coop to connect with Joe (whom he hadn't even met yet) to find Bill Fletcher's number and talk it over with him.
Bill couldn't shed any more light on the subject than Andrew himself, but it was comforting to have someone to talk to, and he encouraged Andrew to have patience and wait it out. He seemed certain that John would clue him in when he was ready.
But all week and into the next one, he could only think about one thing: What was up with John?
John dropped off Andrew and headed back to his loft.
Inside, he was seething. He thought he had covered his frustration and doubt pretty well, but he should have known Andrew was too sharp not to see through his smokescreen. Okay, maybe not see through it entirely, but he knew things were different and then turned that steel trap mind his way. John didn't dare give him even the breath of a hint as to what was bothering him.
As if it was a mystery, he laughed to himself darkly. I literally watched him and Grandpa Liam get it on. He doesn't say a word about it. And then conveniently has to go to the bathroom seconds after Alex heads for the kitchen right next to it? And they don't even have the courtesy of staggering their return time in getting back to the table? As if I won't suspect a thing!
It wasn't the fact that he played with them as much as the fact that he kept it from me. How dense does he think I am? I'm not stupid, he thought angrily.
He clomped his way up to his apartment in a foul mood and even chamomile tea didn't help him sleep that night.
He made up excuses to bail on lunch with Andrew on Monday and Tuesday, too worked up to be in the mood for a nice civil lunch.
He knew he needed some way to vent, or this was not going to be pretty.
Tuesday evening, he called his cousin Brady.
"Journey's Inn," said the voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey Brady, it's John."
"Howdy, sir! What can I do for you?"
"You're free tonight, right?"
"Round about ten I will be."
"Excellent. Meet me at the Jacks then."
"Yes, sir, I'll be there as quickly as I can."
"See you then," John said before hanging up.
Brady often helped him out when he was frustrated and floundering, so hopefully that would work this time around too.
He stewed some more while he waited for the appointed time.
What did Andrew expect him to do? Just go on like nothing has changed? But they have! Nothing stays the same. It's the only constant in life besides death and taxes, right?
Just to give himself something to do, he made himself some dinner that he was probably not going to eat. He decided on a souffle, and beating the eggs by hand proved therapeutic as he took out some of his pent-up anger on the eggs. Far too soon, they were at the perfect consistency.
He proceeded to bake it, and it turned out to be perhaps the best one he had ever made. Good enough that he ate the entire thing after all, which was good since he had skipped both breakfast and lunch.
He beat the rugs out on the balcony, scoured the bathroom clean, and swept the place while he waited for the appointed hour.
As the hour approached, he changed out of his cleaning clothes and into something more appropriate.
When it was time, he made his way down to the car, fighting to keep from sprinting the entire way and taking the steps three at a time. It had been a long time since he was this anxious.
He made his way out of town and then set the cruise control when he reached the highway to make sure he didn't drive too fast or aggressively, knowing that it was pointless to get there early.
When he got there, he pulled onto Jacks Road and sailed right past the office and the diner and past the campsites and RVs. Shortly after those, he turned down the dirt driveway that led into the trees and drove until he pulled up to the big old barn.
He saw Brady's ancient but immaculate old Ford truck and parked next to it, already feeling better.
He opened the rustic old door latch and reveled in the sound of the creaky old barn door as he slid it open. There were no lights on, but he didn't need them. He knew this place like the back of his hand, and he knew exactly where Brady would be.
He made his way through the dressing room and around the corner, where weak moonlight had made it through some of the windows to give a faint blue hue to a few scattered spots around the cavernous space.
He made his way to the stage in the very center of the room. The moonlight was conveniently reflected by the chrome edges of the stair treads, so he walked up them and then stopped to turn back. He tapped around to one side of the top step with his foot until he found what he was looking for.
When he stepped on it with his foot, a single light lit up behind him. On the opposite side of the top step was a small stack of perfectly folded clothes.
He turned toward the light, which was hung directly above the center of the stage.
There, standing on his knees and buck naked except for a blindfold and a bulldog harness, was Brady.
Thanks for reading my tale! If you'd like me to let you know when a new chapter goes up, just send me a message and I will keep you posted. Thanks again for reading, and I hope you have great day!
DurtyRiter@protonmail.com