Shifting Gears (Crossroads Series Book 2) (8 page)

It was obvious the conversation was over when Landon pulled his black and orange helmet over his head. He strapped it without a word and Rod stood there watching him.

You’re better than that. I just…just don’t do it.

He wasn’t sure that anyone had ever told him he was better than anything. It felt…strange. Strange, but good. “Yeah, okay. Jesus, I was only talking out of my ass anyway.”

Landon didn’t respond. He only got onto his bike and started to back it out of the driveway. When he got onto the street, Rod put on his helmet, climbed on the back of Landon’s Harley, and they were on their way.

They rode for hours.

They stopped once about an hour and a half in. Landon needed to stretch out his legs, and arms, so he’d pulled over at a gas station. They didn’t really talk. Rod had made a trip inside to go to the bathroom, and then they were on their way again.

Landon wasn’t sure what in the hell made him lose his shit on Rod the way he had. Why the fuck did it matter to him who Rod had sex with, and if the guy ordered him to his knees or not? It had nothing to do with him, so he should have kept his fucking mouth shut.

But the thing was, he couldn’t really take back what he said. He didn’t want Rod out there getting topped by some motherfucker who thought he had the right to tell him what to do. Some guy who didn’t know him from Adam. There were a lot of messed up people in the world. All you had to do was turn on the news at night to see that. Rod was his friend. He just wanted him to be careful. There was nothing wrong with that.

So now here he was pouting on the drive they were supposed to be enjoying. He’d wanted to take Rod out for a real cruise for weeks, and now that they were doing it, he was tense the whole damn time.

He was stuck between Rod’s sex life having nothing to do with him, and maintaining that it was okay to care since they were friends.

Landon told himself he was done acting like a fucking psychopath. He’d forget the conversation. Rod could do whatever he wanted. They were just going to have a good time today.

He pulled into the parking lot of the bike show.

He’d been glad when Rod had agreed to come with him. He knew Rod seemed to like riding with him, but walking around and looking at bikes for hours might not be his thing. The good part was that’s not all that was here. The whole block was lined with different celebrations—the bike show, a farmers’ market, a tattoo exhibit and more.

When they finally parked, he waited while Rod got off the bike from behind him. When he was out of the way, Landon got off as well. The second he looked at Rod he said, “It won’t happen again. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“No.” Rod shook his head. “You shouldn’t have. It’s…it’s important that you care. That’s what that was, right?” He glanced at the ground looking more unsure than Landon had ever seen him.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s what that was.”

Rod looked up, a thank you in his eyes. “Let’s go. Show me bikes. I like to watch you get hard when you talk about them.”

Landon rolled his eyes. Only fucking Rod. “Let’s do it then.”

It took a few minutes for them to make their way inside the gate. When they got there, Landon paid for both of them. There was no use in them paying separately since they were there together.

He was glad when Rod didn’t mention it because he had a feeling it would just get him annoyed again.

Their first stop was the tent full of tricked-out bikes. Landon loved looking at these. It wasn’t something he would really want for himself, but it was pretty amazing what people could do with a bike.

“Look at this.” He kneeled in front of the custom-built motorcycle. “Do you see the chrome work on this bike? It’s gorgeous. I don’t like how low it is to the ground, but it’s fucking beautiful.”

He knew Rod didn’t really care, but still, he knelt down beside him and looked at what Landon showed him. “That’s cool. Do you do stuff like that?”

“No.” Landon shook his head. “Maybe I’d like to get into body work one day, but right now I just do mechanic work. It takes a lot of skill to do shit like this.”

Rod nudged him. “You could do it. You’d make beautiful bikes.”

Landon smiled, feeling a little silly that Rod’s compliment hit him in the chest. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now quit sucking up.”

“What am I sucking?”

Crazy fucking man. “Be good.” Landon pushed to his feet and Rod was right behind him. “Let’s keep looking.” And he tried to forget the fact that he wished he didn’t have to be good when it came to Rod.

***

While Landon looked at bikes, Rod looked at Landon. He enjoyed seeing Landon in his element like this, and it was obvious that’s exactly where he was. His passion radiated off of him, seeped into Rod’s pores and made him feel passionate about this as well.

He’d ask questions from time to time about different makes and models, what was good and what wasn’t. He waited for Landon to get frustrated with him about it, but he never did. Jesus, his father hated the fact that Rod couldn’t care less about cars and shit like that when he was younger. It was like he didn’t deserve his penis because he’d rather do just about anything than fix stuff. His dad loved fixing things, everything, and he’d wanted that to rub off on Rod.

Landon seemed to enjoy answering his questions though. It made him excited to ask more of them. It really was interesting. “Maybe I should get a motorcycle…”

“I just came.”

Rod let out a sharp laugh, making a few people turn to look at them. “Sorry,” he said and then looked at Landon again. “You stole that line from me.”

“So? It’s true. And really?”

Rod shrugged. “Maybe. It’s a fucking rush to ride with you. Maybe I can learn to ride. I’ll be a badass biking motherfucker.”

Landon rolled his eyes with a smile. “I can teach you to ride, if you’re serious. If not, no worries.”

He was serious. He didn’t realize it until just this moment, but he was. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me—Oh hey, look at this.” Rod was shocked when Landon grabbed ahold of his hand and led him to some more bikes. He saw a few people glance their way, but then Landon was rambling about throttles and speed and all sorts of other stuff, making it impossible for Rod to pay attention to anything else but him.

A little while later, they were finished at the bike fair. They made their way to the food stands to grab a bite to eat before going next door.

“I’ll pay for the food,” Rod told him. He figured that was fair since Landon had paid for them to get in.

They each ordered cheap beer, fries, and burgers before they found a spot to sit in the grass. It was a little out of the way from where most of the people congregated, filling up the tables and walking around.

“We’ll start you out on my Switchback to see if you even like riding, but in reality it wouldn’t be a good first bike for you. You’d need something a little smaller with less power.” Landon popped a fry into his mouth and Rod nodded at him.

“Sounds good. Did you always know you liked riding?” he asked.

Landon glanced away, then at his fries before popping another into his mouth. “Yeah, my dad used to ride. He always had bikes. He started me out on motocross when I was five.”

“That’s fantastic.” He didn’t have stories like that with his own father. They had nothing to bond over, and his father had hated him for that. “I bet he’s proud of you.” It was then that he realized Landon rarely spoke of his father. He talked about his mom, and sister, but not his dad.

“Eh, not really. He’s an asshole. I don’t know why I brought him up.” There was a raw sort of sadness roughening Landon’s voice. Rod wanted to know more, wanted Landon to let him in, but he wouldn’t ask for it. He couldn’t.

“Yeah, mine was too. They’re good at that.”

Obviously done with the conversation, Landon said, “You’re not wearing your eyeliner.”

Rod wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond to that or not. Landon hadn’t asked him like it was a question. Hell, he wasn’t even sure where it had come from.

“No, I’m not. I don’t always wear it. Only sometimes. I didn’t feel like this was the right environment for that.”

Landon’s features went hard. His eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck that. If you wanted to wear it, you should have. If someone has a problem with it, they can kiss our asses.”

His pulse throbbed against his skin. The anger in Landon’s voice enticed feelings in Rod he wasn’t used to. Feelings that had no business coming out, but they did because Landon was on his side. It wasn’t often he’d had people on his side in his life. “Both of ours?”

Landon didn’t seem to notice the astonishment behind Rod’s playful words. “Yeah. I hate shit like that and I wouldn’t hesitate for a second before telling someone that.”

Oh, he was in trouble. He was starting to like this man. Rod wasn’t supposed to like him that way. Hell, Landon wasn’t even interested in sex with him. There wasn’t a chance this was going anywhere. “Thank you for hypothetically defending my honor.”

A second later, he almost choked when Landon said, “It’s funny because I’ve never really been into that before. Eyeliner looks good on you though. Not as though that matters.” He shrugged, but it mattered to Rod. He was so incredibly fucked.

They went to the tattoo expo next, which was located in the next indoor facility over. Landon didn’t have any ink himself, but he thought Rod might enjoy it since he had a couple of tattoos, though according to Rod, what he was looking forward to the most was the fireworks tonight.

The tattoo expo was even busier than the bike show had been, with people at booths getting tattooed and people waiting. “Do your tattoos mean anything?” Landon asked him as they made their way around to tent after tent. He’d been curious about it for a while now.

Rod glanced at him and frowned, as though he hadn’t expected the question. “The one on my left arm is for freedom, my right is for happiness. They’re Maori. You don’t have any do you?”

Freedom and happiness, Landon liked that. “No.”

“Do you want one?”

Did he? He didn’t think so. “I don’t know. Not right now, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You’re no fun,” Rod told him, as he approached a stand that said, Peace, Love, Tattoos. There was a woman working who had just finished a tattoo for another lady. “I’m getting one.”

The artist smiled. “I’m Eliza.”

“Rod.”

“Do you know what you want?” she asked.

“His name on my ass cheek.”

Eliza’s eyes went big but Landon found himself putting his arm around Rod’s shoulders. “You’re such a fucking nut. He’s kidding. He’s not getting my name tattooed on him. He’s trying to freak me out, but I know his games now.”

Eliza gave them a kind smile. “I wouldn’t have a problem with it.” She laughed. “I just didn’t expect it. Here, look through this first. You should check out some of my work.”

She handed Rod a binder, which he set on the counter in front of them. Somehow Landon ended up behind him, with one hand on each of Rod’s shoulders, looking at the book over him. It took him a few minutes to realize what he was doing, and when he did, he let go. “You do beautiful work,” he told Eliza. “Your shading is incredible.”

“Thanks,” she replied just as Rod said, “I agree. Not everyone can shade well.”

Landon didn’t know that part, only that he liked what he saw.

He listened as Rod told her what his other two tattoos meant, and Eliza had some ideas about something similar. The new tattoo was a symbol for strength, which he planned to get on the inner area of his left bicep.

While Eliza prepared to tattoo Rod, Landon sat beside him, his chair reversed. “Why freedom, happiness, and strength?” He leaned on his arms, which rested on the back of the chair.

“Childhood trauma, why else?” Rod winked at him, but Landon didn’t play into it. He waited for Rod to continue. “Because I spent my teen years wanting my freedom. Since then I’ve fought to be happy, and we could all use a little strength.”

Landon thought about his own life—his anger toward his father for leaving him, for walking away, and his mom’s struggle being on her own. “Yeah, yeah we can.”

They were quiet then, as Eliza began tattooing Rod. Landon watched him, thought about him. Rod intrigued him. He’d never particularly found himself intrigued by anyone before, not in the same way he was about Rod, at least. It was as though he wanted to know everything about him, wanted his secrets, but those things frightened him at the same time.

He’d never really been afraid of anything like that before and the knowledge that he was now didn’t sit well in his stomach. It made him feel seasick. Like he didn’t have his legs under him, which only served to intensify his worries. That annoyed him more.

Less than an hour later, Rod was bandaged up and they were leaving the booth.

“She did a fantastic job on it,” Landon told him, trying to avoid the thoughts that plagued him while Rod was getting his ink.

“Thanks. I like it. Tattoos make me feel badass.” Rod winked at him.

“You are so fucking badass. I don’t know how you contain your badassness.” Landon noticed the corner of the wrap covering Rod’s tattoo peeling up. He stopped them and pushed the corner down again, trying to keep it secure.