Musically in Love

Chapter 11

McKinley's POV

It was almost noon and I had just left work. All morning I've been fidgeting, trying to convince myself that this was a good idea. I needed this to work. Even the drive to Tyler's work, I felt like freaking out the whole time. I hated being this nervous.

I parked my car in the small lot next to the mechanics shop. This was going to fail miserably and then I really would have messed everything up with Tyler.

Walking through the open garage door, I was hit with the smell of car oil and dirt and the sound of twangy country music. 

There was a car being worked on in the middle of the garage. I could only see a pair of legs sticking out from underneath the car. I didn't want to disturb whoever it was, especially if it wasn't Tyler. Even if it was - why did I think coming to his place of work in the middle of his shift was a good idea? Just because I barely do anything at work doesn't mean everyone is like that at their jobs.

But before I could turn and leave, someone spoke up from behind me. "Can I help you?"

I turned to see an older man who was probably in his fifties or so. He was wearing a stained pair of overalls with the name Dave stitched over the pocket.

"Hi. I, um... I'm looking for Tyler? Tyler Vallette?"

Dave nodded before walking over to the guy under the car. He then gently kicked the guy's foot.

Moments later, the guy was standing in front of me, dusting himself off and turning his hearing aids back on. "McKinley?" he asked when he finally looked up at me. "What are you doing here?"

I held my finger to my lips in the general 'shush' gesture. I then held up the papers I spent all night writing up and decorating. Each paper had a different line of the poem I wrote, and I flipped through them as he read:

I know I'm not the best poet around

I usually do a lot better with sound

Settling is not what I'm doing

I'm trying my best at wooing

I really do like you

And I hope you like me too

Tyler Vallette

Will you please go out with me?

Dave was the first one to react, laughing and hitting Tyler on the shoulder before walking away. I didn't know what to make of that, but I honestly didn't care. I was more interested in what Tyler had to say.

Finally, he cracked a smile. "Did you write that yourself?"

"Yeah?"

"It kinda sucked."

I grimaced. "I know..." I just needed to know what his answer to my question was, but I didn't know how to ask him again.

"It was cute, though."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You are too. And I would love to go out with you."

I was so shocked that my pitiful poem worked that I barely registered Tyler closing the distance between us until his hand was on my cheek and he was lifting my head up slightly. I dropped the papers to the ground as I leaned up to connect our lips.

I tried to deepen the kiss, running my tongue along his lips. Except, just as he opened his mouth, I somehow could only taste oil or grease or something that came off a car.

I pulled back, licking the sleeve on my shoulder to get the taste off my tongue. "Sorry," I said after a moment, blushing. I then reached up and wiped the bit of grease that was still on his face off with my thumb. "Wasn't expecting to get a mouthful of car grease."