Free Shifting Gears (Crossroads Series Book 2) by Riley Hart Page A

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.
    “Thanks,” Rod told him. They were close. Too fucking close. He could see gold flecks in Rod’s lively, blue eyes. He needed to back the hell up and he needed to do it now…. but he didn’t. Instead he focused on Rod’s penetrating stare and wondered what he was thinking; reached up and cupped his cheek, wondering what he was doing.
    “Fucking faggots.”
    Landon went rigid at what was mumbled from the man who walked past them.
    “Excuse me?” he turned toward the asshole who’d spoken. When he did, Rod grabbed his arm, but Landon ignored it. “What the fuck did you say to us?”
    “He’s a dickhead, Landon. Just ignore him,” Rod said. Those words got the man’s attention.
    “What did you say to me, you fucking queer?” The bald guy turned on them quickly, hate in his dark eyes.
    “He said you’re a dickhead.” Landon didn’t stop until he was nose to nose with the guy. He smelled beer on his breath and sweat on his body. “But I think that’s too nice for you because as you pointed out, I like dick.” He couldn’t deal with homophobic bullshit like this. He hated fighting, he really fucking did. He’d seen the fallout over stuff like this, but he also couldn’t sit by when someone said something like this asshole did.
    “Are you really going to do this? Fuck him, Landon. Let’s go,” Rod said.
    Landon didn’t back away, didn’t respond in any way. He didn’t take his eyes off of the prick in front of him. He could feel people around them stopping, staring.
    “So you’re the girl? You let him give it to you? Maybe I should take this up with your man.” The guy laughed. Landon heard someone else chuckle behind him. He glanced up to see the guy had a friend with him. He’d seen them both when they were at the motorcycle show and had fucking known they were trouble.
    “Landon,” Rod said again.
    “Listen to your man.”
    “Fuck you,” Rod told the guy.
    “You can shut the hell up, you queer piece of shit.”
    Anger shot through him hearing the guy talk to Rod that way. Landon shoved him. He stumbled backward into his friend. They both looked at him with hate spewing from their dark stares.
    Logically he knew he should walk away from this, but there wasn’t a bone in his body that could handle that. Come fucking on, he thought. Just as they were about to come at him, another voice cut in. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”
    Three security