Free Beta Test (#gaymers) by Annabeth Albert

with white hair sticking up at odd angles all over his head and stooped shoulders that lowered further with each protestation that he couldn’t help them.
    “See, if it’s all that busted, then they’re going to have to drive a truck up from Shasta or Redding for you. Faster thing is for you to go there yourself, talk to—”
    “But we’re talking to you. Look, this thing is barely steering right now. Do you want to assume the risk of death or injury for us if we try and take this thing back on the highway?” Tristan demanded, channeling his father’s commanding tone.
    Elmer opened his mouth, then shut it before finally releasing a garlic-laced sigh. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a look-see at the truck.”
    Elmer stuck a Back in Five Minutes sign up in front of the register, then, jingling a huge wad of keys, followed them out to the truck. “How about you turn it on?” he said to Tristan. Elmer had already shown a marked preference for speaking directly to Tristan and ignoring Ravi. Which was noteworthy, because so far on the journey, Ravi had charmed everyone the same way he did their coworkers back in LA—baristas and waitresses and hotel clerks all loved the guy.
    Tristan handed the keys to Ravi. “Here. You try. You’re way better with the truck than me.”
    Ravi swung up into the cab of the truck while Tristan and Elmer stood to the side.
    Vrroom. Ka-rumple. Crunk. Crunk. Even just revving the engine caused the sound.
    “Thank God, it wasn’t only me,” Tristan said under his breath.
    “Yup. It’s busted.” Elmer nodded like he’d predicted this all along instead of fighting them for the past twenty minutes. “Now listen, boy. You with him willingly? You been abducted by one of them terror cells, just raise two fingers. I’ll have the law here right quick.”
    “What the hell?” Tristan almost never cursed, especially not to another person, but this was beyond bizarre.
    “You and that Muslim? You using the rental truck for no good? Maybe I need to have a look in the back—”
    “You listen here. He’s Hindu, not Muslim, not that it makes a bit of difference. And he’s my coworker. We work for a software company, a huge one, which is not going to be happy at this delay. So you can get on the phone and arrange for a new truck, or you can expect a call from our company’s attorney in the next twenty minutes. And I’m sure there are plenty of news outlets which would love to run with the story of your franchise being discriminatory—”
    “Now, don’t be hasty. I was just coverin’ all my bases, see. The news says the terrorist groups could be targeting small towns next. But I’ll go call Redding. Get a new truck here within the next hour or so.”
    “You do that.” Tristan kept his voice firm even as his hands started to shake. He hated being demanding, hated making a fuss, even when it was clearly warranted, like here.
    “Don’t gotta be getting all rude,” Elmer muttered as he lumbered his way back to the store.
    “Go, Tristan.” Ravi gave a round of mock-applause as he got out of the truck.
    “You heard all that?”
    “Oh, yeah. And I’ve heard way worse, trust me. But thanks for sticking up for me.” He clapped Tristan on the shoulder, and their eyes met. Something more than gratitude passed between them, something deeper than the spark of attraction Tristan kept feeling at the wrong moments. No, this was deep and potent and not what he should be feeling in the middle of the day with the sun beating down on them in this tiny town with the world’s rudest clerk undoubtedly watching.

Chapter Eight
    Tristan I-need-a-bigger-spreadsheet Jones was about the last person Ravi would have expected to stick up for him. And just as he’d suspected, a more confident Tristan was also weirdly sexy. It wasn’t the commanding tone or the legalese he’d spouted effortlessly—it was more that in that moment Tristan seemed like a guy who knew what he wanted—and