Circle, page 3
“Because you’re sick?”
“Gastroparesis,” Jed said.
The word meant nothing to me. I memorized it to pick Pete’s brain, and on cue, the front door opened. Pete appeared with Liam in tow and Glenn right behind them. Glenn’s gaze zeroed in on Jed’s plastic box before Pete even noticed Jed’s presence.
“All right?”
Jed nodded. “Yep.”
“Sure?”
Jed growled something that was either secret army code or another language altogether. Glenn glared and flipped him the bird. Pete glanced between them before he spotted the box, but with Jed’s Vicodin hidden away, his expression remained neutral.
Liam peered around Pete’s legs and eyed Desta. Jed caught him looking and nudged Desta forward. “You can scratch his ears, buddy. He’s friendly.”
Liam took a tentative step forward. He was a bright kid but possessed none of Cosmo’s confidence. Perhaps he was just wired differently, but he’d spent his whole life on the road, running from one disaster into another. It was hardly surprising that he looked at everything like it might evaporate at any moment.
Desta met Liam halfway, tail wagging. For a moment he looked like he might jump at Liam and bowl him over, but a low noise from Jed stayed him.
Pete watched the scene play out. “Shame you can’t train my neighbor’s cat to behave like that. Damned thing is a menace.”
Jed snorted. “He wasn’t always like this. Chewed our place to bits when he was a pup.”
“And don’t let Jed claim credit for training him either,” Glenn said. “My girl Flo trained that boy.”
Jed rolled his eyes. “It’s true, but Flo ain’t yours, dude. She’s Max’s girl.”
A phone rang—Jed’s. He retrieved it from his pocket and studied the screen. “Speak of the devil.”
He grabbed his box and stepped outside. After a moment’s deliberation, Desta followed. Glenn watched them go and then punched my arm. “What happened?”
I shrugged. “He said his blood sugar dropped. I got his stuff from downstairs and he was fine a few minutes later. It didn’t seem that big of a deal.”
Glenn studied me like he was trying to gauge my honesty, then he grunted and went back to the beer Pete had passed him. I glanced at the clock. It was getting late, for Liam, at least. I scooped him up and took him to Pete to say goodnight. Bedtime was usually Pete’s thing, with Cosmo too, but he seemed distracted tonight, so I cut him a break.
In Liam’s room, I tucked him into bed beneath the baseball mural I’d painted with him a few months ago. “How were the batting cages?”
“I liked them,” Liam said. “I like Lincoln Park too. Pete said we could go to the zoo next week. Can we?”
“Sure.” I wondered when I’d become someone who got asked questions like that. It happened at work too, now that I co-owned the studio, and I still hadn’t gotten used to it.
I left Liam with his nightlight. Unlike Cosmo, he’d never been read to at bedtime, so the concept meant little to him. Besides, with his nose buried in a book, he could probably read better than me anyway.
A strange scene greeted me when I emerged from Liam’s room and found the others in the living room. Jed had returned from his phone call, and Glenn appeared to be goading him into taking his shirt off or at least trying to. Jed didn’t seem the type to be goaded into anything, a theory well founded when Glenn nudged Pete instead.
“Show him yours.”
Pete rolled his eyes and lifted his shirt. It took me a moment to realize he was showing Jed the zipper I’d tattooed around the surgical scar on his abdomen.
I turned away. I’d inked the scar because Pete had asked me to, and there were still some days I couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t face how close I’d come to losing him. The tattoo continued to be a source of fascination for anyone who saw it, but it burned my soul.
“Whoa. That’s something else.” Jed leaned forward to get a closer look. “If you put a zipper around every scar on my body, I’d look like an industrialized quilt cover.”
Glenn laughed. Pete dropped his shirt and pointed at Jed. “Your turn.”
I took my place on the arm of the couch as Jed rose and lifted his shirt. The four-inch scar on his belly was smaller than Pete’s but no less grisly. A flashback of Pete, hunched up on a hospital bed, ashen with pain, invaded my mind. Pete felt my shiver and touched my arm.
“How long have you had the pacemaker in your stomach?” he asked Jed.
Jed dropped his shirt. “Six years. They figure I’ll need a new one after ten, though.”
Glenn grimaced. “Jesus. Never fucking stops, does it?”
“It’s not so bad.” Jed’s grin was wry. “We’re both alive, ain’t we?”
“Goddamned hippie. Max has changed you.”
“For the better, dude. Always for the better.”
Jed twisted the band on his ring finger while Pete and I absorbed the fond exchange. I didn’t know Glenn that well, but he’d become a good buddy to Pete, and it was clear his bond with Jed ran deep too. We were all lucky to have friends like that.
Pete tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He looked tired, but an evening with Liam always did that to him. The kid was easy to please and never asked for anything, but sometimes I thought Pete would’ve coped better if he’d been a brat. I squeezed his hand. I felt Jed’s gaze on us, but he’d looked away by the time I glanced up.
Jed said something to Glenn I didn’t understand. Glenn muttered something back that Jed didn’t seem to like. I tensed up. Surely Glenn wouldn’t bring someone around who had a problem with two guys together? I didn’t want to believe it, but even in the gay heart of Chicago, I’d seen people I’d known far longer than Jed turn out to be assholes.
Glenn abruptly got up and left the room. Jed shook his head slightly and then met my gaze. “Don’t mind us. We’ve been bickering in Arabic for twenty years.”
“What are you bickering about?”
“He thinks I should go home and be with Max. I think he could do with a few more days of my foot up his ass.”
Oh. That nixed my fleeting and craptastic theory about him being a homophobic douche. I eyed the ring on Jed’s finger again. “How long have you been married to her?”
“Who?”
“Max, wasn’t it?”
Jed snorted. “Max is a dude, bro.”
That would teach me for making assumptions. How many times had Pete and I had the phrase “but you don’t look gay” thrown at us? “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I don’t talk about Max much, so you’re not the first to assume he’s a chick. He’ll laugh when I tell him.”
I winced, glad Pete had apparently dozed off. “Do you have to tell him?”
“Yeah. He’ll ask about you because I was just talking about you on the phone with him. But to answer your original question—we’re not officially married. I wear his father’s ring, and he has my best friend’s old pendant around his neck. A bit of paper can’t mean more to us than that.”
It was a sentiment close to my heart. Maggie would’ve loved to see Pete marry me, but he wasn’t interested, and we were on the same page most of the time. Sometimes I grew tired of explaining my relationship to the world. But would being married change that if it didn’t mean anything else?
Probably not.
“Anyway…” Jed stood and held out his fist to me. “I’d better go find Glenn, but listen—I’m going to the VA hospital tomorrow. Glenn said you painted a mural there? I’d like to see it if you’ve got time to show me.”
It crossed my mind to ask why he couldn’t search it out by himself or with Glenn. The mural was tucked away in the refurbished psychiatric ward, and I’d never visited it since I’d delivered it to an entirely different part of the hospital. I’d never visited a psychiatric ward either, but that was all down to Pete—and Joe. They’d cared for me when I couldn’t care for myself, and even in my darkest days, I’d known how lucky I was.
“Ash?” Jed was staring at me, though he didn’t seem particularly impatient. “I’m gonna go,” he said. “I’ll be heading down there around noon, but I’m sure I’ll find your work if you’re not there. Thanks for the company.”
He left, taking Desta with him, and with Pete using me as a pillow, I didn’t get up to see him out.
Chapter Three
Pete
Ash was restless. I watched him pace around the apartment, fucking with things that didn’t need fucking with, and made a futile attempt to gauge the source of his agitation. But no cigar. Ash’s moods were often a mystery even to him, and I’d learned to keep my mouth shut until he brought his shit to me—something that he was much better at these days.
I was folding a fuck-ton of laundry when he came into the bedroom a little while later. He looked wired, which made my heavy eyes itch. His energy astounded me, when it was all I could do to get out of bed some days. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. You’ve had a bug in your ass since you got up.” So much for keeping my mouth shut. “Wanna talk about it?”
Irritation flashed briefly in his blue eyes, then he sat on the bed with a heavy sigh and reached for a pile of Liam’s pants and T-shirts. “What’s gastroparesis?”
“Ah, Jed told you he has it?”
“Yeah. Just before you came home last night.”
I balled up a pair of crazy-small football socks as I searched for a way to explain Jed’s condition, all the while trying not to ponder why he cared so much. Glenn’s buddy was hot, and beyond that, he had a charisma that was kind of arresting. He didn’t say much, but in the brief time I’d spent with him, I’d found myself fascinated by him. He was nothing like the dudes Glenn had brought around before.
“Pete?”
Damn my wandering mind. Before I’d taken an L train to the skull, I’d possessed the ability to just answer the damn question. Now the path to my answer took me to some really odd places. “Gastroparesis is a stomach condition. It fucks with digestion and metabolism, and it can make people really sick—like vomiting all day, every day, nutrition issues, and chronic pain. Jed’s had a pacemaker fitted to keep food down, but he still gets the rest, and he’s spent a lot of time in the hospital. It’s nearly killed him a couple of times, by all accounts.”
“Is it, like, terminal?”
I shrugged. “Not directly, but it’s incurable right now. Why are you so interested?”
It was Ash’s turn to shrug. “I like him, so I wanted to understand.”
Fair enough. “It’s a tough break, but he’s a tough guy. Glenn told me they ran the Portland marathon together last year, and Boston. Considering Jed took a bullet to the leg in Iraq, that’s pretty fucking epic.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
“Glenn told me some stuff on the way home. I think they drive each other crazy, but they’re like brothers, man.”
“Like us and Joe?”
“Maybe.”
Like he’d heard his name from a couple of blocks away, Joe appeared in the bedroom doorway. I blinked in surprise. “How the fuck did you get in without either of us hearing?”
“Dunno.” Joe dangled his keys from his fingers. “Liam heard me, though, so I figured you two were either fucking or napping or some shit.”
Ash’s glare matched mine. We never fucked when Liam was in the apartment, and I was pretty sure Ash barely slept either. “Don’t be a dick. What do you want? If it’s breakfast, we ate it all.”
Joe grinned, unfazed as ever by any sharp words anyone threw his way. “I already ate, thanks. No need to get pissy. I just came up to pass on a message from Glenn. He said to tell Ash that Jed isn’t going to the VA till tomorrow now ’cause Glenn needs him for something else.”
I was mystified, but the message seemed to make sense to Ash. He nodded and his eyes grew distant again. Joe noticed too, but he left Ash’s brooding to me and disappeared from our apartment as silently as he had arrived. First time for everything.
Side-eyeing Ash, I piled the folded laundry into the basket to put away later. “What’s Jed going to the VA got to do with you?”
“He asked me to go with him.”
“Why?”
“To show him the mural.”
“He couldn’t find it on his own?”
Ash’s lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “I thought that too, but I haven’t seen it since it went up, so…”
“So you’d like to go see it?”
“I think so.”
“Looks like you’ve got a date tomorrow, then.”
Ash punched my arm, and I fell onto the bed, laughing. Jed was hot, but Ash cheating on me was something I’d never worried about, and I wasn’t about to start now. Neither one of us was perfect, but our commitment to each other was absolute. That fucker was my soul mate, and for better or worse, he knew it.
“Did you know Jed’s gay?”
I stopped laughing and rubbed my arm. “I wondered, but I wasn’t sure. Max is a dude, then?”
“Yup.”
I nodded slowly and imagined the lakeside cabin Glenn often talked about when he started getting whimsical about his friends in Oregon. He’d never named them as Jed and Max, but it made sense now. Jed was as rugged as Glenn—more so—and I could picture him sanding the boats that Glenn rambled on about when he’d had one too many beers. “Are you working today?”
“This afternoon. I’m taking Liam to school, then I have a meeting with Nicola before I hit the studio.”
Ash made a face that made me want to jump his bones, though I settled for snickering. Nicola was as close to an agent as he’d consent to having. She organized the rare gallery shows he agreed to and managed the legal side of his work. What she actually did with her time, I had no idea, but she took good care of Ash’s hard-earned money, and that was good enough for me. “What are you working on at the studio?”
“A Suicide Squad back piece.”
“The one you started last month?”
“Yeah. You remember that?”
I frowned. “’Course I do. With the blonde chicks and the swords, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Ash didn’t look convinced, but a glance at the clock revealed I’d run out of time to make amends for whatever I’d done to make him frown. “I gotta go.”
I kissed him goodbye for longer than I should have—which was hardly unusual—and wound up having to jog the two blocks to the hospital. Glenn was waiting for me at the nurses’ station. “I need a favor.”
“Already? I just got here.”
“Right. Come find me when you’re on the floor.”
“Okay.”
I changed into my scrubs and headed out into the chaos of the ER. The board was full, but the trauma rooms were relatively clear. I took over from the nurse who’d been covering them, then went to find Glenn. “What’s up?”
“Jed needs an iron IV. He’s in exam four with the dog. Can you set it up for me?”
“Sure.” I took the chart Glenn held out and studied the order he’d scrawled on it. I didn’t know much more about gastroparesis than I’d told Ash that morning, and from Jed’s blood results, it was hard to tell why he’d wound up in the ER. “What’s his status? Does he need anything else?”
“Nah. Just the IV, maybe some Vicodin if he cramps up. He’s had a hundred of these, so follow his lead. He’s only having it here because the grouchy bastard won’t fucking go home.”
Glenn stomped away, leaving me shaking my head. He was an awesome doctor—cool headed and a leading expert in trauma care—but it was clear that treating his buddy got under his skin. And I got that. Joe had gotten shoulder surgery last year for an old football injury and I’d just about lost my shit. And Maggie’s care? Fuck. Glenn was the only doctor I’d ever let touch her.
A cold shiver buzzed my spine, but I pushed the ghosts aside and got the supplies I’d need to start Jed’s IV. Then I went to his room and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, scribbling in a leather-bound notebook and looking for all the world like an older version of Ash. Wow. How had I not noticed that before?
Jed glanced up as the notion hit me. “Hey. Sorry if this has fucked up your schedule. I told Glenn it could wait until I got home, but he’s not in the mood to listen today.”
“It’s okay.” I set my supplies on the bed. “You need it, right? Might as well have it here.”
Jed hummed and closed his notebook. “I don’t like that I need it. Desta doesn’t either. He’ll probably growl when you stick me, but don’t worry. He won’t move.”
Until then I hadn’t registered the spaniel by Jed’s feet. He was so well-trained that he blended into Jed’s surroundings, which I supposed was the point.
I set up the IV and drew Jed’s arm to me to insert the cannula. As warned, Desta growled but didn’t move. I took my gloves off as Jed settled on the bed. “Can I pet him, or does he hate me now?”
Jed chuckled. “He doesn’t hate anyone. Hasn’t got it in him. But he’ll probably ignore you while he’s got his harness on.”
Ah, the harness. I’d seen that in service dogs before. I scratched Desta’s ears to no response, then moved to the sink to wash up. Jed closed his eyes while I scrubbed my hands. I studied him and searched my brain for possible side effects of the iron IV. Nausea was one. A shitty headache was another, but I was fairly certain Jed was the kind of dude who wouldn’t let me know unless he was pretty much dying.
I dried off and moved back to his side. “You’re good to go. Do you usually react okay to the infusion?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Case in point. I grinned to myself and pressed my fist lightly to his arm. I wasn’t a particularly tactile caregiver, but with Jed’s eyes still closed, I wanted him to know I was there. Or at least could be if he needed anything. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. Press the buzzer if you need me before then.”
Jed didn’t press the buzzer. His infusion took three hours, and every time I looked in on him, he appeared to be asleep. Observing Desta seemed to be the best way of gauging Jed, and it was around midday when I offered him some Vicodin.
“Gastroparesis,” Jed said.
The word meant nothing to me. I memorized it to pick Pete’s brain, and on cue, the front door opened. Pete appeared with Liam in tow and Glenn right behind them. Glenn’s gaze zeroed in on Jed’s plastic box before Pete even noticed Jed’s presence.
“All right?”
Jed nodded. “Yep.”
“Sure?”
Jed growled something that was either secret army code or another language altogether. Glenn glared and flipped him the bird. Pete glanced between them before he spotted the box, but with Jed’s Vicodin hidden away, his expression remained neutral.
Liam peered around Pete’s legs and eyed Desta. Jed caught him looking and nudged Desta forward. “You can scratch his ears, buddy. He’s friendly.”
Liam took a tentative step forward. He was a bright kid but possessed none of Cosmo’s confidence. Perhaps he was just wired differently, but he’d spent his whole life on the road, running from one disaster into another. It was hardly surprising that he looked at everything like it might evaporate at any moment.
Desta met Liam halfway, tail wagging. For a moment he looked like he might jump at Liam and bowl him over, but a low noise from Jed stayed him.
Pete watched the scene play out. “Shame you can’t train my neighbor’s cat to behave like that. Damned thing is a menace.”
Jed snorted. “He wasn’t always like this. Chewed our place to bits when he was a pup.”
“And don’t let Jed claim credit for training him either,” Glenn said. “My girl Flo trained that boy.”
Jed rolled his eyes. “It’s true, but Flo ain’t yours, dude. She’s Max’s girl.”
A phone rang—Jed’s. He retrieved it from his pocket and studied the screen. “Speak of the devil.”
He grabbed his box and stepped outside. After a moment’s deliberation, Desta followed. Glenn watched them go and then punched my arm. “What happened?”
I shrugged. “He said his blood sugar dropped. I got his stuff from downstairs and he was fine a few minutes later. It didn’t seem that big of a deal.”
Glenn studied me like he was trying to gauge my honesty, then he grunted and went back to the beer Pete had passed him. I glanced at the clock. It was getting late, for Liam, at least. I scooped him up and took him to Pete to say goodnight. Bedtime was usually Pete’s thing, with Cosmo too, but he seemed distracted tonight, so I cut him a break.
In Liam’s room, I tucked him into bed beneath the baseball mural I’d painted with him a few months ago. “How were the batting cages?”
“I liked them,” Liam said. “I like Lincoln Park too. Pete said we could go to the zoo next week. Can we?”
“Sure.” I wondered when I’d become someone who got asked questions like that. It happened at work too, now that I co-owned the studio, and I still hadn’t gotten used to it.
I left Liam with his nightlight. Unlike Cosmo, he’d never been read to at bedtime, so the concept meant little to him. Besides, with his nose buried in a book, he could probably read better than me anyway.
A strange scene greeted me when I emerged from Liam’s room and found the others in the living room. Jed had returned from his phone call, and Glenn appeared to be goading him into taking his shirt off or at least trying to. Jed didn’t seem the type to be goaded into anything, a theory well founded when Glenn nudged Pete instead.
“Show him yours.”
Pete rolled his eyes and lifted his shirt. It took me a moment to realize he was showing Jed the zipper I’d tattooed around the surgical scar on his abdomen.
I turned away. I’d inked the scar because Pete had asked me to, and there were still some days I couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t face how close I’d come to losing him. The tattoo continued to be a source of fascination for anyone who saw it, but it burned my soul.
“Whoa. That’s something else.” Jed leaned forward to get a closer look. “If you put a zipper around every scar on my body, I’d look like an industrialized quilt cover.”
Glenn laughed. Pete dropped his shirt and pointed at Jed. “Your turn.”
I took my place on the arm of the couch as Jed rose and lifted his shirt. The four-inch scar on his belly was smaller than Pete’s but no less grisly. A flashback of Pete, hunched up on a hospital bed, ashen with pain, invaded my mind. Pete felt my shiver and touched my arm.
“How long have you had the pacemaker in your stomach?” he asked Jed.
Jed dropped his shirt. “Six years. They figure I’ll need a new one after ten, though.”
Glenn grimaced. “Jesus. Never fucking stops, does it?”
“It’s not so bad.” Jed’s grin was wry. “We’re both alive, ain’t we?”
“Goddamned hippie. Max has changed you.”
“For the better, dude. Always for the better.”
Jed twisted the band on his ring finger while Pete and I absorbed the fond exchange. I didn’t know Glenn that well, but he’d become a good buddy to Pete, and it was clear his bond with Jed ran deep too. We were all lucky to have friends like that.
Pete tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He looked tired, but an evening with Liam always did that to him. The kid was easy to please and never asked for anything, but sometimes I thought Pete would’ve coped better if he’d been a brat. I squeezed his hand. I felt Jed’s gaze on us, but he’d looked away by the time I glanced up.
Jed said something to Glenn I didn’t understand. Glenn muttered something back that Jed didn’t seem to like. I tensed up. Surely Glenn wouldn’t bring someone around who had a problem with two guys together? I didn’t want to believe it, but even in the gay heart of Chicago, I’d seen people I’d known far longer than Jed turn out to be assholes.
Glenn abruptly got up and left the room. Jed shook his head slightly and then met my gaze. “Don’t mind us. We’ve been bickering in Arabic for twenty years.”
“What are you bickering about?”
“He thinks I should go home and be with Max. I think he could do with a few more days of my foot up his ass.”
Oh. That nixed my fleeting and craptastic theory about him being a homophobic douche. I eyed the ring on Jed’s finger again. “How long have you been married to her?”
“Who?”
“Max, wasn’t it?”
Jed snorted. “Max is a dude, bro.”
That would teach me for making assumptions. How many times had Pete and I had the phrase “but you don’t look gay” thrown at us? “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I don’t talk about Max much, so you’re not the first to assume he’s a chick. He’ll laugh when I tell him.”
I winced, glad Pete had apparently dozed off. “Do you have to tell him?”
“Yeah. He’ll ask about you because I was just talking about you on the phone with him. But to answer your original question—we’re not officially married. I wear his father’s ring, and he has my best friend’s old pendant around his neck. A bit of paper can’t mean more to us than that.”
It was a sentiment close to my heart. Maggie would’ve loved to see Pete marry me, but he wasn’t interested, and we were on the same page most of the time. Sometimes I grew tired of explaining my relationship to the world. But would being married change that if it didn’t mean anything else?
Probably not.
“Anyway…” Jed stood and held out his fist to me. “I’d better go find Glenn, but listen—I’m going to the VA hospital tomorrow. Glenn said you painted a mural there? I’d like to see it if you’ve got time to show me.”
It crossed my mind to ask why he couldn’t search it out by himself or with Glenn. The mural was tucked away in the refurbished psychiatric ward, and I’d never visited it since I’d delivered it to an entirely different part of the hospital. I’d never visited a psychiatric ward either, but that was all down to Pete—and Joe. They’d cared for me when I couldn’t care for myself, and even in my darkest days, I’d known how lucky I was.
“Ash?” Jed was staring at me, though he didn’t seem particularly impatient. “I’m gonna go,” he said. “I’ll be heading down there around noon, but I’m sure I’ll find your work if you’re not there. Thanks for the company.”
He left, taking Desta with him, and with Pete using me as a pillow, I didn’t get up to see him out.
Chapter Three
Pete
Ash was restless. I watched him pace around the apartment, fucking with things that didn’t need fucking with, and made a futile attempt to gauge the source of his agitation. But no cigar. Ash’s moods were often a mystery even to him, and I’d learned to keep my mouth shut until he brought his shit to me—something that he was much better at these days.
I was folding a fuck-ton of laundry when he came into the bedroom a little while later. He looked wired, which made my heavy eyes itch. His energy astounded me, when it was all I could do to get out of bed some days. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. You’ve had a bug in your ass since you got up.” So much for keeping my mouth shut. “Wanna talk about it?”
Irritation flashed briefly in his blue eyes, then he sat on the bed with a heavy sigh and reached for a pile of Liam’s pants and T-shirts. “What’s gastroparesis?”
“Ah, Jed told you he has it?”
“Yeah. Just before you came home last night.”
I balled up a pair of crazy-small football socks as I searched for a way to explain Jed’s condition, all the while trying not to ponder why he cared so much. Glenn’s buddy was hot, and beyond that, he had a charisma that was kind of arresting. He didn’t say much, but in the brief time I’d spent with him, I’d found myself fascinated by him. He was nothing like the dudes Glenn had brought around before.
“Pete?”
Damn my wandering mind. Before I’d taken an L train to the skull, I’d possessed the ability to just answer the damn question. Now the path to my answer took me to some really odd places. “Gastroparesis is a stomach condition. It fucks with digestion and metabolism, and it can make people really sick—like vomiting all day, every day, nutrition issues, and chronic pain. Jed’s had a pacemaker fitted to keep food down, but he still gets the rest, and he’s spent a lot of time in the hospital. It’s nearly killed him a couple of times, by all accounts.”
“Is it, like, terminal?”
I shrugged. “Not directly, but it’s incurable right now. Why are you so interested?”
It was Ash’s turn to shrug. “I like him, so I wanted to understand.”
Fair enough. “It’s a tough break, but he’s a tough guy. Glenn told me they ran the Portland marathon together last year, and Boston. Considering Jed took a bullet to the leg in Iraq, that’s pretty fucking epic.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
“Glenn told me some stuff on the way home. I think they drive each other crazy, but they’re like brothers, man.”
“Like us and Joe?”
“Maybe.”
Like he’d heard his name from a couple of blocks away, Joe appeared in the bedroom doorway. I blinked in surprise. “How the fuck did you get in without either of us hearing?”
“Dunno.” Joe dangled his keys from his fingers. “Liam heard me, though, so I figured you two were either fucking or napping or some shit.”
Ash’s glare matched mine. We never fucked when Liam was in the apartment, and I was pretty sure Ash barely slept either. “Don’t be a dick. What do you want? If it’s breakfast, we ate it all.”
Joe grinned, unfazed as ever by any sharp words anyone threw his way. “I already ate, thanks. No need to get pissy. I just came up to pass on a message from Glenn. He said to tell Ash that Jed isn’t going to the VA till tomorrow now ’cause Glenn needs him for something else.”
I was mystified, but the message seemed to make sense to Ash. He nodded and his eyes grew distant again. Joe noticed too, but he left Ash’s brooding to me and disappeared from our apartment as silently as he had arrived. First time for everything.
Side-eyeing Ash, I piled the folded laundry into the basket to put away later. “What’s Jed going to the VA got to do with you?”
“He asked me to go with him.”
“Why?”
“To show him the mural.”
“He couldn’t find it on his own?”
Ash’s lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “I thought that too, but I haven’t seen it since it went up, so…”
“So you’d like to go see it?”
“I think so.”
“Looks like you’ve got a date tomorrow, then.”
Ash punched my arm, and I fell onto the bed, laughing. Jed was hot, but Ash cheating on me was something I’d never worried about, and I wasn’t about to start now. Neither one of us was perfect, but our commitment to each other was absolute. That fucker was my soul mate, and for better or worse, he knew it.
“Did you know Jed’s gay?”
I stopped laughing and rubbed my arm. “I wondered, but I wasn’t sure. Max is a dude, then?”
“Yup.”
I nodded slowly and imagined the lakeside cabin Glenn often talked about when he started getting whimsical about his friends in Oregon. He’d never named them as Jed and Max, but it made sense now. Jed was as rugged as Glenn—more so—and I could picture him sanding the boats that Glenn rambled on about when he’d had one too many beers. “Are you working today?”
“This afternoon. I’m taking Liam to school, then I have a meeting with Nicola before I hit the studio.”
Ash made a face that made me want to jump his bones, though I settled for snickering. Nicola was as close to an agent as he’d consent to having. She organized the rare gallery shows he agreed to and managed the legal side of his work. What she actually did with her time, I had no idea, but she took good care of Ash’s hard-earned money, and that was good enough for me. “What are you working on at the studio?”
“A Suicide Squad back piece.”
“The one you started last month?”
“Yeah. You remember that?”
I frowned. “’Course I do. With the blonde chicks and the swords, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Ash didn’t look convinced, but a glance at the clock revealed I’d run out of time to make amends for whatever I’d done to make him frown. “I gotta go.”
I kissed him goodbye for longer than I should have—which was hardly unusual—and wound up having to jog the two blocks to the hospital. Glenn was waiting for me at the nurses’ station. “I need a favor.”
“Already? I just got here.”
“Right. Come find me when you’re on the floor.”
“Okay.”
I changed into my scrubs and headed out into the chaos of the ER. The board was full, but the trauma rooms were relatively clear. I took over from the nurse who’d been covering them, then went to find Glenn. “What’s up?”
“Jed needs an iron IV. He’s in exam four with the dog. Can you set it up for me?”
“Sure.” I took the chart Glenn held out and studied the order he’d scrawled on it. I didn’t know much more about gastroparesis than I’d told Ash that morning, and from Jed’s blood results, it was hard to tell why he’d wound up in the ER. “What’s his status? Does he need anything else?”
“Nah. Just the IV, maybe some Vicodin if he cramps up. He’s had a hundred of these, so follow his lead. He’s only having it here because the grouchy bastard won’t fucking go home.”
Glenn stomped away, leaving me shaking my head. He was an awesome doctor—cool headed and a leading expert in trauma care—but it was clear that treating his buddy got under his skin. And I got that. Joe had gotten shoulder surgery last year for an old football injury and I’d just about lost my shit. And Maggie’s care? Fuck. Glenn was the only doctor I’d ever let touch her.
A cold shiver buzzed my spine, but I pushed the ghosts aside and got the supplies I’d need to start Jed’s IV. Then I went to his room and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, scribbling in a leather-bound notebook and looking for all the world like an older version of Ash. Wow. How had I not noticed that before?
Jed glanced up as the notion hit me. “Hey. Sorry if this has fucked up your schedule. I told Glenn it could wait until I got home, but he’s not in the mood to listen today.”
“It’s okay.” I set my supplies on the bed. “You need it, right? Might as well have it here.”
Jed hummed and closed his notebook. “I don’t like that I need it. Desta doesn’t either. He’ll probably growl when you stick me, but don’t worry. He won’t move.”
Until then I hadn’t registered the spaniel by Jed’s feet. He was so well-trained that he blended into Jed’s surroundings, which I supposed was the point.
I set up the IV and drew Jed’s arm to me to insert the cannula. As warned, Desta growled but didn’t move. I took my gloves off as Jed settled on the bed. “Can I pet him, or does he hate me now?”
Jed chuckled. “He doesn’t hate anyone. Hasn’t got it in him. But he’ll probably ignore you while he’s got his harness on.”
Ah, the harness. I’d seen that in service dogs before. I scratched Desta’s ears to no response, then moved to the sink to wash up. Jed closed his eyes while I scrubbed my hands. I studied him and searched my brain for possible side effects of the iron IV. Nausea was one. A shitty headache was another, but I was fairly certain Jed was the kind of dude who wouldn’t let me know unless he was pretty much dying.
I dried off and moved back to his side. “You’re good to go. Do you usually react okay to the infusion?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Case in point. I grinned to myself and pressed my fist lightly to his arm. I wasn’t a particularly tactile caregiver, but with Jed’s eyes still closed, I wanted him to know I was there. Or at least could be if he needed anything. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. Press the buzzer if you need me before then.”
Jed didn’t press the buzzer. His infusion took three hours, and every time I looked in on him, he appeared to be asleep. Observing Desta seemed to be the best way of gauging Jed, and it was around midday when I offered him some Vicodin.
