Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 2

Chapter 2“I never thought I’d see you again,” Greg said.

Nick grinned nonchalantly as he leaned against the mechanic’s doorway. His ex-boyfriend Greg was behind the counter, filling out some reports, while Greg’s bosses, John and Ray, had taken Nick’s car around the other side. After the class meeting, Nick had swallowed his pride and called a tow truck and told them to drop it off at the closest mechanic. When the driver had informed him that’d be Davis’s Car and Auto Repair, Nick hadn’t been surprised.

“How could I never see your face again? Please,” Nick said. “I knew this would happen one day. I’ve been in Waterloo so long I have memories around every corner. Most of them good.”

Greg chuckled. “Well, I think you should make a scrapbook. Save up for when you finally defend that damn degree of yours.”

“In that case, I may be here for years. So humor me and help me out right now. Your friends have just taken my poor car.”

“Let me finish up this paperwork, then I’m all yours. Always a pleasure to serve, you know.” Greg winked before he hurriedly scrawled a few more notes on whatever forms he was filling in.

Out of all of Nick’s breakups, Greg had easily been the best. The two of them had hooked up in the back laundry room of a house party, where Nick also had met Tucker, during the early part of his PhD. After exchanging numbers, they soon had s*x in Greg’s car. Two weeks later, they were having s*x fairly regularly as if it were a sport. In spite of Nick desperately wanting the relationship to go somewhere more romantic and mean something beyond f*****g, they both knew they would never work out. Greg’s large biceps and taut muscles, dusty-blond hair, and sharp jawline drew Nick in, but his messy apartment and gambling habit (and subsequent credit card debt) were huge turnoffs for anything long-term. According to Greg, Nick’s intellect and his wild theories about the world made interesting pillow and dinner talk, but Nick’s addiction to romantic comedies on Netflix made him seem both too serious and too sappy. So after two months of fooling around, Greg invited Nick over for a glass of whiskey and they mutually decided to see other people. It had taken another two weeks for the no f*****g around anymore part of the breakup to really take effect, and by that time, Greg had found someone else through Grindr, and Netflix had uploaded all of Friends to its queue, so Nick had something else to do on Friday and Saturday nights.

Greg set the forms aside on the counter and turned his attention back to Nick. “So what brings you here?”

“As if you don’t know. I am just that desperate and hopeless.” Nick sighed overdramatically. “Also, my car won’t start. John and Ray took it around by the back door.”

“I thought it was only me who got in your back door?”

“Oh, don’t start that. My heart is like my car and can’t take being toyed with.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a big issue.”

“The biggest.”

Greg chuckled. Before their flirtation could go much further, John and Ray stepped in from the garage and placed a new form in front of Greg. They grabbed some donuts from a box near the coffee machine and disappeared again into another room. “Well, apparently I’m the only one free today, so I may as well check it out.”

“You’re an angel. Thank you.” Nick held back from kissing Greg on the cheek with gratitude. When Greg walked around the counter and grabbed Nick in a half hug, Nick felt much better.

“Don’t worry, Nick. I’ll go take a look at this mess, and maybe we can get you out of here before nightfall.”

* * * *

An hour later, Greg came back into the storefront area with grease on the front of his uniform and sections of his sandy-blond hair sticking up. He chewed on his lip, avoiding Nick’s wave, as he slid behind the front counter’s computer. Nick had been nursing a cup of really dark and bitter coffee, which he now crinkled in his hand as he stood.

“Oh no. I know that look,” Nick said. “That’s the this is expensive and I don’t know how to break it to you look. I’ve seen it more than once.”

Greg’s gaze narrowed in on the computer screen without answering Nick. He let out a low whistle.

“I’m so not getting out of here before nightfall,” Nick said.

“I know. Spoke too soon. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t drag it out. Tell me the news. I can take it.” Nick clapped a hand over his chest. He felt as if he were repeating the dialogue of every father in a Lifetime movie about a kid with cancer. From the way Greg’s brows continued to knit, maybe that wasn’t far off.

“Well. I know that mechanics are notorious for going under the hood for one issue and coming up with several others. But I can’t let you drive out of here.”

“Well, yeah. The engine.”

“That’s relatively minor. Still shitty, and kind of expensive, but it could be fixed in twenty-four hours. It’s your brakes that concern me.”

“That sounds ominous,” Nick said. “But as far as I know, they’ve been working well.”

“They have. But you ever hear a grinding noise while driving? It may be small, but it’s there—right?”

Nick tried to remember, but came up with nothing.

“Well, the shocks are wearing away, along with the brake pads. That’s what’s making that noise. If you don’t hear it now, you’ll start to hear it soon. And the more those wear away, the closer you get to your brakes not working. That really is ominous, like you said, so I need to replace them. And, well, come here for a second.” Greg motioned for Nick to come behind the counter. Nick did so, sliding in close to Greg, because any kind of bodily contact right now would make him feel better. If Tucker had been there, Nick would have tried to hold his hand, and Tucker probably would have let him. Nick’s car’s make and model were on the screen, next to a list with different manufactures, part names that made no sense, and their cost. Their astronomical cost.

“Hey. Wait. I thought a Mazda was supposed to be cheaper? That was why I bought this car.”

“I know. It’s good advice for the standard repairs. But when we’re talking about batteries and brakes and shocks, there’s only so much I can do. I’m not a miracle worker.”

Nick closed his eyes and tried to steady himself. “I know, I know. You’re a huge help. But how much are we talking here? I’m already in pretty deep because of the tow truck.”

Greg tapped the keyboard a few times. The total amount was listed at the bottom. Four digits. Nick felt like he’d been wounded. Everything above twenty dollars seemed too high, unless he was talking about his student loan payments. A couple grand for something like a car made him want to curl up into a ball.

“I can’t pay that. Not right now. It’s just…”

“I get it. You’re in school. I’m good with this stuff, remember?”

“I do. You were a saint in your other life.” Nick smiled. When they had dated, it had always been Greg picking up their bills at restaurants or at movies. It had been nice, for a while, to feel like a kept boyfriend. But Nick was under no illusions right now. There was no way Greg would pay for this—even if Nick did sneak him away and give him a blowjob in the back. Which he wasn’t totally above doing…he’d just prefer to not ignite that flame of attraction right now.

“This is what I can do.” Greg typed in more numbers on the screen. “A discount. Friends and family. I’m taking out most of the labour costs this way.”

“Oh my God. Really? That would be great.”

Nick watched as some of the possible total was knocked down—but not much. It looked like only ten percent of the initial total was gone. That was still a lot, but by no means enough. Nick’s smile fell from his face, and Greg squeezed his shoulder.

“That’s all I can do, Nickie.”

“I know, I know. Thanks so much for even considering me discount-worthy. I think I can pay that total.” Nick scanned his phone for his funding email from the university, plus his latest credit card statement. He did some quick math in his head, and though it pained him, he nodded. “Yeah, I can pay that bill. But not now? I have to wait until the end of the month for my money from my teaching job to come in. I’ve already paid the tow truck with credit, so I can’t max that out. Then there’s rent and food, you know. I like eating. But I’m thinking of developing a finer palette for the many different types of ramen noodles.”

“I understand entirely.” Greg inputted a few commands into the computer, possibly ordering the parts he’d need and saving the bill for later. “These parts will take a few days to come in, anyway. I obviously can’t let you drive out of the lot, so we can keep your car. No charge. We’ll fix the issues when the parts are in, and then I can let the car stay here a little beyond that. Whenever you can pay, you can take it back. Make sense?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but don’t push the limit too far, you know? These guys barely notice anything that’s not a donut, so if by chance they somehow realize that your grey little Mazda has been hanging around too long, I can stave them off for at least a week. Hopefully you’ll have the money by then.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much. This is huge.” Nick fought the urge to hug Greg again. Greg smiled, his dimples visible on his cheeks. Nick shuddered as he remembered what those dimples tasted like and what Greg felt like underneath his uniform. Nick pushed those thoughts away. Those days were done, and this small favour was only that—a favour for old times’ sake.

“Okay. Good. Always happy to help,” Greg said. “Give me a few minutes to collect some stuff in the back room and print out a few forms. I also think I have to do an oil change. But after that, would you like a ride back to your place? We offer them for paying customers.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh. He had anticipated walking the half hour back to his apartment under the hot sun, but now he could relax and get even more bad coffee.

“That sounds perfect. Thank you again.”

Greg lifted up a hand, almost as if he were bowing. “No worries, Nickie. I always try my best.”