“Ben Edwards? Mr.—” Dr. Winters glanced down at the clipboard in his hand, his lips tightening in a quick flash of distaste. “—Campbell is your ‘friend’?”
Ben let go of Gavin’s hand and stood up, clapping the doctor on the shoulder with a warm smile.
“Yes, and it’s good to know it’s you taking care of him, John,” Ben said, apparently oblivious to the other man’s overt disapproval of the position he’d found them in. “I didn’t realize you were on duty. Gavin needs something for the pain. Can you make that happen?”
The doctor nodded, shifting away from Ben as he looked back down at the paperwork he was carrying. “Some patients have an extremely bad reaction to codeine. I don’t normally like going with an opiate, but I do think it’s the best alternative in this case—”
Gavin frowned. He’d taken codeine a few times, and never had a problem with it. He tried to think back to anything James could have told the doctor that would have made him think otherwise, but it was hard to concentrate. And really, at this point he almost didn’t care. Whatever they could give him to help ease the pain would be a welcome relief.
“I’ve got the tramadol here, Doctor,” James cut in, holding out a small plastic cup with two pills inside. “We don’t want Gavin to have to suffer any more than necessary, hmm?”
“An opiate?” Ben asked, frowning. “Is that safe?”
“I wouldn’t prescribe something that wasn’t,” the doctor said stiffly, looking affronted. “There are side effects, of course, but as long as your friend doesn’t abuse it, he’ll be fine.” He turned to Gavin, asking impatiently, “Do you want the painkiller or not, Mr. Campbell?”
“Yes,” Gavin said. “Thank you.”
He reached for the cup of water James held out to him, then popped the yellow and green pills into his mouth, wondering how long until they kicked in. Maybe once the pain eased a little he’d be able to concentrate on coming up with a game plan. He glanced at the clock on the wall. God. He had to be at the bakery in twelve hours. And he could probably count on at least a few more hours before he got treated. And then he had to figure out how to get his car back. And how to drive it, once he did—
“Will these make me drowsy?” he asked, handing the cup back to James as he tried and failed to tamp down the surge of anxiety that that particular line of thinking brought up.
“I’ll be back after we get your x-rays,” Dr. Winters interjected, nodding abruptly to Ben and then hurrying away.
James lingered. “It might,” he answered Gavin’s earlier question. “…among other things.”
“Like what?” Ben asked, frowning at James as he squeezed Gavin’s shoulder again.
“Well, some of us wouldn’t consider them bad side-effects,” James said, snickering. “But of course our little control-freak might not care for them. We all know how much Gavin hates having fun. You can thank me later, though, Ben Edwards. And I can already think of plenty of ways for you to show your appreciation.”
The look Ben gave James sent the nurse scurrying out of the room, but the spiteful words kept echoing in Gavin’s head even after he’d left. Gavin generally had a strict policy of doing his best to ignore everything that spewed out of his ex’s mouth, but—maybe it was just a side-effect of the drug—it suddenly felt vitally important to set Ben straight on one thing.
“I don’t hate having fun,” Gavin mumbled, leaning his head back and counting down the minutes until the drug kicked in. “I just don’t have time for it.”
Although he’d taken time today.
Blocking off the whole afternoon for the photo shoot had felt almost like a mini-vacation, and for once, Gavin had found it easy to justify the time off. Although, technically, he could still argue that he was working, since being part of the bank’s campaign counted as promoting his business. Not to mention strengthening his relationship with his bank. And with his banker. His very hot banker. Gavin’s lip twitched up. He really hadn’t expected Ben to be at the photo shoot, and he’d probably been happier than it was smart to be about finding him there, but… shit. That reminded him. He’d ruined Ben’s photo shoot.
“Oh my God, Ben,” he said, his head snapping up. “I’m so sorry about today. I hope you can find someone else to take my place. I know you’ve got your whole campaign planned out—”
“Take your place? No. I want you, Gavin.”
The forceful statement made Gavin grin before he could catch it, and he coughed to hide it, covering his mouth. Straight guys could be so clueless. But still, he had to admit he liked hearing it.
“We’ll reschedule when you’re up to it,” Ben went on. “If you’re still willing, of course. I know you’ll need some downtime for recovery—”
“Oh, God,” Gavin groaned, his moment of good humor stamped out by the reminder. “No. I’ve got to be at Delicious at four.”
Ben frowned, looking at the clock. “It’s already after four, and Gavin, let’s be realistic. You’re not going—”
“I mean four a.m.,” Gavin said, cutting him off as he started mentally going through his to-do list. “Although shit, maybe I should plan on an earlier start, since everything will probably take me longer.” His chest tightened at the thought. “And I’ve still got reports to run for—”
“Gavin,” Ben interrupted. “You’re not going into the bakery in the morning with a broken foot. That’s why you have employees.”
“Maybe it’s not broken,” Gavin said stubbornly, trying to tell himself that it was okay to hold out hope until the x-rays told him otherwise. But… he sighed. No. Ben was looking at him compassionately, and Gavin couldn’t lie to himself. The damn thing had to be broken.
Ben’s lips tightened for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but instead of offering empty reassurance, he sat down and pulled out his phone and a stylus. “Okay. Let’s make a list. Tell me who needs to be contacted about tomorrow.”
Gavin groaned. “God, I can’t believe I haven’t called Danny yet. Shit. I didn’t even think—”
“Gavin,” Ben said, laughter in his voice. “Relax. You’re hurt. Give yourself a break and let me help.” He tapped on his phone for a moment. “Okay, so… Danny. Phone number? What do we need to tell him? And who else?”
Gavin hesitated for a minute, not used to involving other people in his business, but finally gave in. Even though it wasn’t Ben’s responsibility to step into the mess Gavin had made for himself, something inside him did relax at the idea that he wasn’t going to have to deal with it alone. At least, not the first bit. And even though he didn’t know Ben all that well, the other man inspired his confidence. He trusted Ben not to let him down.
Gavin took a breath, organizing his thoughts, then rattled off the list of names and phone numbers and all the little details that had been plaguing him. Ben tapped them efficiently into his phone, his face going from a look of concentration to that sexy half-smile again. When Gavin finally stopped, Ben looked up, his eyes twinkling.
“I can’t believe you had all that in your head.”
Gavin felt his cheeks heat. Fine. James had been a little bit right. He was a bit of a control-freak. But he’d learned at a young age that if he didn’t stay on top of things, they had a way of going to shit.
“Okay,” Ben said, handing his phone over. “Make sure I’ve got it all, and then I’ll start making calls.”
Gavin scanned down the list quickly. It was all there. And at the bottom of the note app, Ben’s bank signature had auto-inserted. Benjamin Andrew Baxter Edwards IV.
Gavin laughed. The fourth? But that wasn’t even the best part. “Looks good,” he said, handing the phone back. “Thanks, babe.”
“You’re welcome,” Ben said, flustered. “Um, those meds kicking in?”
They were, Gavin realized. The pain in his foot had reduced from mind-numbing agony to a mild background distraction. But seriously, did Ben not get it? There was no way Gavin could be the first to point it out.
“Your initials,
” he said, relaxing back into his seat as he eyed Ben up and down. The acronym was definitely fitting. “They’re B-A-B-E. Don’t tell me you don’t get called that all the time.”
Ben went pink, which was ridiculously attractive. He shook his head.
“I don’t believe that,” Gavin said, riveted by the sight of the blush. He liked knowing he had some sort of effect on the sexy banker. “Although maybe they don’t say it to your face…”
“Let me go make these calls before they come get you for x-ray,” Ben said, popping out of his seat. Still pink.
“…Especially since the rear view is nice, too,” Gavin said under his breath. Or maybe at full volume. He wasn’t sure which, but whatever. Ben had to know he was hot. It’s not like Gavin’s comment was going to be some shocking revelation to the man. He leaned forward to watch Ben go, reveling in the absence of pain.
It felt good.
It felt really good.
Broken foot or not, he felt… really fucking good. Although possibly not as good as Ben looked. Hmmm. On second thought, maybe he did feel that good. And feeling good was good. Gavin approved. He should make a point to feel good more often.
“X-ray is backed up, so it’s going to be a while,” James said, poking his head around the corner with the update. And even that was good. Because James was… well, no. James was not good.
James laughed.
“Drugs kicking in now, honey?”
Gavin smiled at him. The man was an asshole with a tiny, crooked dick. James frowned. Oh. Had Gavin said that out loud?
But apparently James was good, because the sound of his snarktastic voice brought Ben back.
And that was most definitely good.
“You are so fucking hot.”
Okay, that one had obviously been out loud. Gavin could tell, because Ben went pink again.
Gavin smiled.
He should break his foot more often. Why did James think he didn’t like to have fun? Gavin liked having fun. He’d like to have fun with Ben, actually.
“When can you get him into x-ray?” Ben asked James, tucking his phone away as he moved to stand between Gavin and James again.
Gavin liked that.
It made him feel… protected. Not that he needed protecting from Little Prick. But it was still nice. Plus, it gave him a view of Ben’s ass again.
He slapped it.
Yup. As firm as it looked.
“Jesus!” Ben said, jumping as he turned an even darker shade of pink. He reached back to grab Gavin’s hand, holding it still. Which was also nice. “What was it that you gave him again?” Ben asked James. “And is this… normal?”
James smirked. “Tramadol. It affects some people like a mild form of Ecstasy. Gav is going to hate this when he remembers it tomorrow. He’s definitely not the type for PDA. And I don’t know about x-ray. At least a few hours.”
Some other things might have been said, but Gavin ignored them.
Eventually, James left.
Ben stayed.
Gavin was happy.
Especially because he was still holding Ben’s hand. Or maybe Ben was holding his hand, which was even better. Gavin tugged on it, wanting him closer.
“I spoke with your friend, Danny,” Ben said. “He’s going to get in touch with… is it Lilly? And make sure she can cover the morning baking.”
“Lucy,” Gavin corrected him, pulling Ben’s hand against his cheek. God, the man’s hands were huge. And warm. His touch felt amazing. Gavin nuzzled against it, wondering why he hadn’t done this before.
Oh.
Right.
Because Ben was straight.
Gavin dropped Ben’s hand with a disappointed sigh, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. It was business, which normally would have consumed 100 percent of his attention, but for some reason Gavin couldn’t make himself care at the moment. Besides, it sounded like Ben had taken care of everything.
No doubt there would still be plenty for Gavin to deal with tomorrow, when the drugs wore off. When Ben went back to his own life and Gavin got to figure out how to navigate through the upcoming hurdles on his own. But for once—and even if it was destined to be short-lived—Gavin felt free not to worry about any of that.
He sat back—watching Ben’s mouth as he talked and letting the deep timbre of his sexy voice wash over him like a balm—and pushed away the knowledge that Ben wasn’t for him. The man was smiling at him, saying something about quarterly tax deadlines that sounded important. He leaned forward as he talked, laying one of those big hands on Gavin’s knee and squeezing to emphasize his point. And even when he took his hand away, he kept looking at Gavin like he was the only thing that mattered in Ben’s world.
At least, for now.
And Gavin knew that James was wrong. Despite the fact that his foot really did feel like it was almost certainly broken—and despite the pending embarrassment a small part of him knew was waiting on the other side of drugtopia—Gavin wasn’t going to hate this tomorrow.
At least, not all of it.
6
Ben
“You’re out late, Ben,” the petite, motherly woman said as she efficiently rang up the purchases of the customer in her checkout line.
“Just filling a prescription, Darlene,” Ben said, pausing next to her before he headed back to the pharmacy counter. “How’s your daughter doing?”
“Getting excited for graduation.”
“I bet,” he said. “Be sure to send me an invitation.”
The friendly cashier laughed. “Are you kidding? The whole bank is getting one. I don’t know how we would have managed college if she hadn’t won that scholarship from you guys.” She bustled out from behind her cash register for a moment, grabbing both his hands in hers. “I can’t tell you how much it means to us, Ben,” she said, beaming up at him. “Thank you.”
“She earned it,” he reminded her, pulling her in for a quick one-armed hug and then grabbing a case of mineral water off the shelf when she went back to work.
The green San Pellegrino water was the same brand Gavin had ordered at lunch a couple of weeks ago, and it should make swallowing the painkillers easier for him. When they’d pulled into the parking lot of the drugstore, Ben had suggested that Gavin stay in the car since he was obviously hurting again. Getting his x-rays and then a cast put on had taken an unbelievably long time, and, even though Gavin hadn’t complained, it was pretty obvious that the first round of drugs had worn off a while ago. Ben couldn’t help grinning as he waited in the pharmacy line—he had to admit Gavin was cute when he was high. His lowered inhibitions had been revealing, to say the least, and Ben didn’t have to be gay to feel a little flattered at the attention. He still didn’t love the idea of Gavin taking opiates, but as long as the side-effects didn’t get him in trouble…
Ben frowned at the thought.
Earlier, he’d shut down Gavin’s suggestion that he call a friend to come pick him up from the hospital. He knew Gavin had made the offer because he hadn’t wanted to inconvenience him, but Ben didn’t see it that way. For his own peace of mind, he knew was going to have to see Gavin home in order to reassure himself that he would be okay.
Not to mention that he still felt unbelievably guilty about the whole thing.
All the more so after helping Gavin rearrange his employees’ schedules and some business meetings for the next day.
And—even though the logical part of him knew there was no basis for it—he’d also argued against letting someone else take care of Gavin because he was filled with the irrational conviction that no one else could be counted on to do it properly.
Granted, Ben knew that didn’t make sense.
For one thing, Gavin was completely capable of taking care of himself. The man was the walking definition of having his shit together. And for another, he clearly had a tight-knit circle of close friends who obviously cared about him. It certainly wasn’t Ben’s place to step into Gavin’s life. But still, now that he was ab
out to take him home, the idea of leaving Gavin on his own didn’t sit well with him. The cast and crutches were definitely going to make things challenging for him.
Ben handled the pharmacy transaction and headed back to the car, still frowning. Now that Ben had seen how Gavin reacted to the painkillers, it really made more sense for Gavin to have someone around to look out for him if he ended up needing to take more of them. Which he was about to, if Ben had anything to say about it. He didn’t like seeing Gavin in pain. Maybe he shouldn’t have argued so hard against Gavin calling one of his friends.
But it was already late.
And besides, Ben had an empty guest room.
“You doing okay?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat and handing Gavin a bottle of water.
“Fine,” Gavin lied, his soft lips pulled into a tight line as he tried to hide his pain.
Ben frowned.
John Winters—Dr. Winters—had talked about the need to switch to over-the-counter painkillers as soon as possible, given the addictive nature of the drug he’d prescribed, but that would have to wait. Gavin clearly needed something stronger at the moment. Ben popped open the little orange prescription bottle and tapped two pills into Gavin’s hand. Gavin smiled gratefully, letting his head fall back against the seat after he swallowed them.
His pose may have looked relaxed at first glance, but Ben noted that he still had a white-knuckled grip on the green bottle of mineral water.
“You know where Delicious is, right?” Gavin asked without opening his eyes. “My place isn’t far from the bakery. It’s by—”
“Gavin, I want you to come home with me.”
Gavin cracked one eye open, giving Ben a weak smile that only hinted at his dimples. Then he laughed. “Well… I don’t know that I have it in me to argue that at the moment.”
“If we need to swing by your place first to get a few things—”
Gavin groaned.
“What?”
“I’m on the top floor,” Gavin said. “To be honest, these crutches make the three flights of stairs up to my apartment sound a little daunting. Maybe I can wait until tomorrow to deal with that, if you really don’t mind.”
The Delicious Series: The First Volume Page 28