Fully Restored (16 page)

“Meghan, I’ll get the bachelorette party organized and be in the wedding, don’t you worry, okay. I can do this.” I told her.

She sniffed, “Okay, just don’t let me down.”

Whatever, and my therapist wonders why I am the way I am. People. Fucking people make me this way.

I told her I loved her and was happy for her and Justin and she says she is happy I am moving forward. No mentions of Brock at all. Win.

And then we signed off and I walked back to my sleeping dad, covering him up, and heading to my room. Nothing really has changed. Yet inside me, everything has.

Brock

Time moves more slowly when you are in it all alone. I spend a lot of my time working on the house. It will be perfect when Teagan is ready to take me back and move in. I don’t see any other alternatives.

I know she is in college in Colorado and I hope she is doing well, but really, not too well. I want her to miss me as much as I miss her. As if a part of me is missing and the wound just can’t close without it.

The men at the shop are used to me now. I go in, don’t talk, do my best, get out. Day in and day out, same routine. I come home, work on the house until I finally collapse with exhaustion and sleep a restless sleep only to wake up and repeat the entire process over again. It’s a little like Groundhog Day but not nearly as funny. Sad. That’s what it is. I feel like a shadow. Just floating on by, barely existing.

It wasn’t until Justin got to me and made me start hanging out, that anything changed. Slowly over time, Justin weaseled his way in. He didn’t push Teagan out, but put himself in there as a firm friend.

Him, I, and sometimes Meghan, get together for movies, bowling, even just drinks and pool. I am killer at pool. A lesson learned in prison. Justin and I have quite the racket going, saving up all our money for stuff. He won’t tell me what he is saving for, but me, it’s all going to the house. The house that one day Teagan and I would share and start a family in. I know it in my soul. Of course, no one knows this. They don’t need to know how obsessed I am. I am not a stalker. Geesh.

Anyway, life goes on. Meghan and Justin decided to get engaged and have me for their Best Man. Shit. Gets better. Guess who the Maid of Honor is? Yep, Teagan. This could go so very right or so very wrong for me. It’s time for me to get really working. I have one year or so to plan the party and get back the girl. Neither would fail if I had my way.

I really like having a goal. Goals I can do. Direction, I can do. This, getting Teagan back, I knew I could do if I only worked it right.

Chapter Fifteen

Teagan

T
urns out, planning a bachelorette party in Denver is not the easiest thing to do with Meghan’s expectations added in. She wanted a male review from all her favorite smutty movies, but the options in town were reviews offered by strip clubs that did a male review one night a week, Thursday for one club and Wednesday for the other.

When I called Meghan with the options, as upset as she was that I couldn’t get them to do the review in private at her place and time, she eventually saw reason and agreed to go with the Thursday night option. However, being a great Maid of Honor, I felt it was in my job description to check out the review before actually booking it for her. Research, right?

This meant I needed someone who would be willing to go with me on a weeknight to a strip club to check it out in the name of research. Though to most red-blooded women, this sounds like an amazing night out, I, on the other hand, have a problem. I have no friends. None.

As I sit in my ACCT 2020 class, (apparently finance is a pretty big part of running a business, even if all I want to do is work on the cars) I notice a pretty young lady sitting a few seats down from me. After class is over, I rush to her in an attempt to make a friend. I mean, we
are
in the same class, maybe we also have some of the same interests’ right? And really, what woman wouldn’t want to go to a male strip show and have someone else pay for it? Right?

Apparently I misjudged the situation. When I asked if she wanted to hang out and get to know each other, she looked like a scared cat. Maybe I should have stopped there, since the signs were there. But, I didn’t. Instead I continued on, and asked her if she wanted to join me on the next Thursday night at a male review to see what it was like for a party.

I don’t think she could have walked away from me any faster without actually starting to run. If I wasn’t so hurt and desperate, it would have been comical.

So, I was now standing alone in the quad, looking like a fool, wishing I had at least one friend. One.

I stood and scanned the open space wishing it would open up and swallow me whole when I noticed a cute, preppy young man making his way over to me. When he gets within distance I automatically remember him from the restaurant.

“Hey! You’re ‘that gay’!” I laughed out, happy to have found someone I knew, no matter how little.

“Totally guilty.” Seth stopped in front of me and looked over my shoulder, “Where’s the hottee?”

Seeing the distress on my face, he set his hand on my shoulder and silently supported me.

“Now what’s this I heard from across the yard about you needing to find someone to go to a male review with you? I think I have a solution. Me! I meet all the criteria, 1- I’m fun. You can’t be with me and not have a blast. You look like you need this. 2- I never buy drinks. They come to me. You can get the side action. Thus, we both drink for free. 3- I love men. Hot naked men even more.”

He is ticking these off on his fingers as he goes, not paying attention to me and the tears and snot running down my face from trying to contain my laughter. Really, he had me at “me!” I was that hard up. But I let him go on.

Eventually, after about 15 items, Seth ran out of steam. “So, do I get the job? I do, right? When are we going? Thursday. See you here in the square at 9 sharp. I’ll drive.” He nodded having officially taken over the plans. I found another Meghan. WTF?

“I’m late for class, here is my cell number, call me!” and after handing me a slip of paper with his number on it, he ran off. Looking over his shoulder he added, yelling, “You won’t be so lonely now! Seth is on the job!” With that parting line he was gone.

Well, that was a whirlwind. I seemed to have dropped then re-found Meghan just in time to find another Meghan. Huh.

With that out of the way for now, I was almost done. A few phone calls later and I had a cake in the shape of a dick that actually ejaculated, lined up to be provided by Intimate Creations bakery. And Spencer’s would easily provide the rest; nipple straws, inflatable penis’, all that crap that a good bachelorette party needs.

For a first time party planner, as long as the review went well, I think I am pretty damn good. Also, I was so busy I didn’t think about Brock once today. At all. Go me.

*****

By the night of the review Seth and I had talked many times and even met for coffee. He was a truly good guy and in school to get his Computer Information Systems degree. We spoke about the possibilities of eventually working on the computers at
Fully Restored
, but that was a long way out. Until then, we planned, chatted, had coffee and did school work together. He was a great friend.

When he picked me up at 9, I was slightly nervous. All the men, besides Brock, I had ever seen naked were poor excuses of manhood. This would be a shocking night I think. I was also excited. I could see Seth was too, his leg bouncing up and down in the car with uncontrolled energy.

The Cowboy was exactly what I thought it would be, loud, dirty, and fun. There was a mechanical bull off to the side for the crazies (insert Seth here) to try and ride.

When the lights went down in the house, we both made our way to the front and grabbed two seats to settle in.

We didn’t have to wait long before beautifully built men were gyrating and undulating across the stage and on the floor. Damn, it was like watching sex. I was getting hot, I hadn’t felt a single thing since Brock and I had broken up, so I got a little teary eyed at knowing I wasn’t broken and shoved some money down that man’s pants.

The show changed, different themes and men, sometimes with audience participation (Meghan would be all over that one, as much as she craved the spotlight). The men and women alike seemed to be having a blast. I was too, surprisingly.

Seth and I watched the entire show, throwing plenty of money at the dancers whenever they came by. At one point I even got a construction worker to give Seth a lap dance. He said he died and went to heaven and that he was leaving everything to me. Awe. So sweet.

By the time the show ended, both Seth and I were beyond trashed.

“I don’t think I can drive us home doll,” Seth slurred.

I stumbled over to him, “Me either,” though that may have sounded more like “Mether.”

Seth pulled out his phone and looked at it closely as a drunk is want to do, “My Uber app says there is a car 5 minutes away. That good?”

I nodded and sat in the middle of the sidewalk to wait. My legs didn’t want to work anymore. Or my eyes. What I wouldn’t give at a time like this to have Brock come rescue me. Damnit. I was doing so well too. Now there is the pain and I just want to throw up. I close my eyes to wait and pretend that thought never occurred. I never had someone who would rescue me. It’s always been me for myself. Yep.

Seth broke my reverie by asking if he could sleep at my house tonight since he was too drunk to go back and get his car. I hadn’t had anyone but my dad over since I got my own place, this would be new and branching out. My therapist would be overjoyed. It worried me but I said yes.

Seth smiled, “This was fun. Let’s do this again. You gonna use this place for the party?”

I thought about it, “I think so. They gave me the rental packet and its really reasonable if you don’t rent the entire place out for the night, just a number of tables. I think Meghan would like it. I am gonna book it. It’s decided. Everything is planned but the wedding.”

“Yeah” Seth slowly said.  “He’s in it, isn’t he? That’s why you have to go all out for this isn’t it?”

“He’s the Best Man, which makes no sense because when I left he and Justin hardly knew each other. This also means he is walking me down the aisle.” I pursed my lips and blew my hair out of my face.

“Wow.”

“Yeah Seth, wow is about it. But hey! I have a plus one! Wanna come be my date?”

Seth thought for a minute. Maybe making these decisions drunk wasn’t the wisest move but it sure hurt less.

Just as the car pulled up he said, “Yeah, yeah I’ll do it. Be your wingman or whatever. I got you.” And with that he crumpled into the back seat of the car.

*****

We must have slept the whole way back to my place, because the driver had to actually wake us up to get us out. We paid him and stumbled into my house. It wasn’t much but I loved it because it was all mine and now Seth would be the second person to see it. When he was sober, that is.

We made our way to the kitchen where I got us each a large glass of water and some Tylenol before pointing him off in the direction of the guest bedroom and heading off to my own. I fell asleep across the bed, clothes on, without time to even think about missing Brock any more that night.

Brock

When I last talked to Meghan the wedding was still slightly under a year away.  Teagan was her Maid of Honor, and being Teagan, she had already planned the Bachelorette party for the Thursday before the Saturday night wedding.

Fuck. This means as best man, my only options for the bachelor party are Wednesday     (farther off from the actual wedding and a bummer) or Friday night before the wedding (where we all risk showing up drunk for the actual wedding).

Fuck Teagan and her organizational skills.

Wednesday it was.

Justin had given me a few ideas of what he wanted at the party, but generally left me to my own devices saying he “trusted” me to make the day good. Followed by a wink. Whatever that meant. With Justin, you never knew what to expect. I mean, the man
is
marrying crazy.

Still this made my job relatively easy.  I’ve got to line up a bar, booze and babes. Hopefully I could find a bar/club that rented out space and came with girls and get it all covered in one spot. Men didn’t need cake or decorations. Give us tits and beer and we are set for the night. Simple stuff.

Three phone calls and one hour later I was done. The Crystal Lounge had a VIP section available for that Wednesday night. It was easy. I could see how this would be hard for women, since I had learned while women strip every night of the week, men only work specific days. No wonder Teagan had hurried to get hers set.

*****

By the time winter was fading away and spring was beginning to announce her presence, I was starting to function well. Not perfectly, in any way, but as long as no one brought it up, I was able to focus on my job.

Since Teagan had formerly been the best modifier, and was no longer here, there was a space to be filled and I was determined to fill it. I was working my ass off too to show them that I was just as good, if not better, and that Jonathan didn’t choose wrong by keeping me on.

I started taking welding classes, as well as primer and painting classes, and some specific resto classes aimed at cars 1970 and older. The classes are kicking my ass, what with my work schedule also being so full. I hardly sleep anymore. Not that I could when I have the time. I lay in bed thinking of
her.
And even if I do rub one out, it doesn’t help. The ache doesn’t stop and the orgasm almost always makes it worse. So, in a way, the classes and work were keeping me busy and sane, even if tired.

Because of all my classes and time working, I was slowly but surely getting my name out into the resto-mod community. It would be wrong if I also didn’t admit that I was trying to get Teagan’s attention by becoming so good.

Every day at work, when I walk in, I have to walk past her partially finished ‘Cuda, just sitting out there waiting for the day her owner would return to get her and finish her.

This was both a blessing and a curse. Having the ‘Cuda there every morning meant that she had not moved on, that she hadn’t met someone who she wants to share rebuilding the car with. I liked that probably more than I should. Taking happiness in that she is alone.

But I also hate walking by it and seeing it every morning and having it remind me of everything I had lost. It was a beautiful form of torture for me.

Shaking my head again, I walked past the ‘Cuda and into the shop straight over to the 1970 Super Bee that was just sitting in the shop, waiting to be worked on.  By me. I was going to prove myself on this restoration. She was gonna be mean, fast, and loud. Everything a Bee should be. People would hear her
buzz
coming from miles away. If I ever get done with her.

Body-wise, she was fleek.

Engine-wise, she was…something else.

Getting her to run was almost like getting a woman to orgasm. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn’t. Every time, no matter the outcome, I had to cajole and coax any movement out of her. Perfectly good parts would suddenly go bad after just one use. It was super frustrating. But I still loved her.

I went to the bench were yet another new AFI pump was waiting in a box and smiled. At least my morning was starting off right. I got started, smiling, on the Bee and its new fuel systems.

With
music
blasting in the background I went to work on the car, not stopping until I nearly fell over needing food.

Standing back, with my sandwich, I had to admire the work I had done so far. I sat in the drivers’ seat and tried the ignition again, hoping against hope the new AFI was all it needed. For now. And after two tries, it started right up.
Yessssss.

I threw my head back and moaned in appreciation at the sound that the engine was making. Mother fucker that was a beautiful sound. Raw. Fierce. Powerful. Potent. Everything a man wanted to be, so he bought a car to make sure he was.

I finished my sandwich and the rest of the day was spent running checks. The car would be nearly done soon. As sad as I would be to see her go, I had learned a lot about myself. I’m not just happy changing oil and doing maintenance. I now know I need more. This being apart from Teagan may hurt but fuck me if I’m not learning more about myself and my own needs than I ever did in the past.

Between jail and coming to work, I hadn’t spent much time trying to be anything more than what the minimum was, because in my head, I limited myself as an ex-con. Now, with this work, with time alone and no girls or distractions, I could focus on me. I could see I want more. Also I see that I’m worth more. I’m worth the love of a partner and a good job. My mistakes don’t define me as much anymore. This time, as painful as it is, has helped me see
me
for the first time and for the first time I might actually like the
me
I am becoming. I’d like this new me better with Teagan, but I will get that. That is the one constant. My need for her in my life will not change.

I’ve got a little under a year to prepare. When the wedding comes, I will be at the top of the resto-mod world and ready for Teagan. I will be the man she deserves, better than the man I was before. 10 months. Shit man, I got this. Right?