The Mechanic’s Apprentice – Part 14

Everyone in this story is 18+

Tightening Bolts

The living room was warm, carrying the kind of lazy evening vibe that felt almost perfect. The TV murmured softly in the background, something random playing that neither of us was really watching. Connor had even lit a few candles Mom loved but I never bothered with myself. Two freshly opened beers sat on the table, their condensation pooling in small circles. He sat cross-legged on the couch, close to me, his attention divided—half on his phone, half on me.

“Okay, seriously, this show is ridiculous,” Connor said, tossing his phone onto the cushion beside him. “Who writes this stuff?”

“You’re the one who picked it,” I shot back, smirking.

“Yeah, well, I regret it now.” He grinned, dimples flashing as he leaned back into the cushions. He looked so relaxed, comfortable in a way that made the room feel smaller.

Connor tilted his head slightly toward my shoulder, and I felt a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name—until the sound of keys jangling in the door snapped me out of it. My stomach tightened.

The door swung open, and my mom stepped inside, dropping her bag on the floor with a sigh. “Ryder, are you here? Home early for once!” she announced, pulling off her scarf.

“Hey, Mom. Yeah, I’m home,” I said casually, glancing her way.

Connor didn’t seem to mind much, but I shifted slightly, sliding just a bit further down the couch, putting a little more space between us.

“Thought you were working late,” I added, my voice carrying into the kitchen as I half-yelled to make sure she heard me.

“Not today. Boss was in a good mood for a change,” she said, kicking off her boots and stepping into the living room.

Her eyes landed on Connor. “Oh, who’s this?” she asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“It’s just Conn. A buddy,” I said quickly, trying to act as casual as I could.

Connor smiled politely, then stood to greet her. “Hi, I’m Conn-or,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Connor! I gotta say, you must be the first of Ry’s friends who doesn’t have a tattoo, a piercing, or look like he just got out of juvie or something.” Mom chuckled.

Connor’s polite smile grew a little wider. “Guess I’m breaking the mold.”

Mom tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “How did you two meet?”

“He’s Joe’s son,” I answered quickly, cutting in before Connor could respond.

“Ah, you’re the boss’s son,” she repeated, her tone light but curious.

Connor’s eyes widened slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t call me ma’am,” she said with a laugh, waving a hand. “Makes me feel old. It’s Linda.”

Connor smiled. “Yes, ma—Linda. Sorry. Force of habit.”

“And how cozy you have it here,” she said, glancing around. Her eyes settled on the candles. “I’ve never seen you use my candles, Ry.” Her gaze shifted to me, and I stammered slightly.

“That’s me. I love me some candles as well,” Connor said, flashing his signature, innocent grin.

Linda nodded, clearly charmed. “I agree. Makes all the difference. So, Connor, what do you do?”

“I attend a dance academy of sorts, where I study ballet,” Connor responded with an easy grace.

My mom grinned, clearly charmed. “So, you’re a dancer? I used to do ballet!”

Connor sat up a little straighter, his curiosity piqued. “Really?”

“Yes,” she said, her smile warm. “All through high school. Then, well…” She waved a hand in the air, a touch of humor in her voice. “Got knocked up at sixteen, and I had to trade pirouettes for paychecks. Single mom life, you know. But hey, I got this guy out of it, so I’d say it was worth it.” She nodded toward me with a smirk.

“Mom,” I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.

“What? You turned out fine. Mostly,” she teased, taking a sip from the water bottle she’d grabbed on her way in.

Connor chuckled, glancing at me before turning back to her. “I’d say you did pretty great,” he said earnestly.

“See?” Linda said, pointing at Connor. “This one’s smart. I like him.”

She leaned back, crossing her legs, her expression softening. “I still remember some things,” she said, almost wistfully. “I mean, I haven’t done a proper pirouette in years, but muscle memory’s a funny thing.”

Connor’s eyes lit up. “You think you could still do one?” he asked, clearly intrigued.

Linda set her water bottle down and stood, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Let’s find out.”

She took a deep breath, raising her arms gracefully into position. With surprising ease, she turned on the ball of her foot, executing a clean spin before landing lightly, her posture perfect. She grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

Connor clapped lightly, his face lighting up with genuine admiration. “That was amazing! You’re so graceful.”

“Well, the shelves at the store I work at keep me on my toes,” she said with a laugh, brushing her hair out of her face as she sat back down. “The boss refuses to invest in more than a single portable stair.”

“You’re really good,” Connor said earnestly, his respect evident. “I can see where Ryder gets his coordination.”

My mom burst out laughing. “Coordination? You’re joking, right? Have you seen him try to dance?”

“Mom, seriously,” I muttered, slouching further into the couch.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” she asked, setting her glass down and crossing her arms, her gaze flicking to the beers on the table. “You guys going out?”

“Yeah, just grabbing a few beers,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Good,” she said, nodding approvingly. “You’ve been working your ass off lately, Ry. You deserve it.” Then her eyes shifted to Connor, a playful glint in them. “But you—Connor, right?—you have to keep an eye on him. This one has a knack for getting into trouble when no one’s looking.”

Connor laughed softly, his dimples flashing. “I’ll do my best,” he said, glancing at me. “Not sure how much I can keep him in check, though.”

“Oh, you’ll figure it out,” my mom said with a wink, standing up and stretching. “You seem like a smart kid. Just don’t let him drink you under the table.”

“Not a chance,” Connor replied, smiling.

My mom ruffled my hair as she passed by, making me swat her hand away. “Have fun, you two. But not too much fun, got it?”

“Got it,” I muttered, watching her disappear into the kitchen. I could feel Connor’s eyes on me, and when I turned, he was grinning again.

“What?” I asked, feeling heat creep into my cheeks.

“She’s cool,” Connor said simply, leaning back into the couch. “I like her.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head,” I said, grabbing my jacket. “Let’s go before she starts telling you embarrassing stories.”