by Jerry Cole
The door opened again before Jake could talk, and Natasha and Sven swept into the apartment, Eddie, Rebecca, and Sam on their heels. Patrick was surprised to see them all, and he felt guilty for stealing all of Isaac’s friends.
“We’re your friends too,” Natasha said, planting a kiss on Patrick’s cheek, and taking one of the beers from Jake. “Besides, he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome.”
Patrick wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome, either.
“I told her you’d probably punch her in the face if he turned up here without you knowing,” Rebecca said, sinking into the couch and shoving her feet into Eddie’s lap. “Besides, he has Michael with him.”
The rest of Patrick’s friends filtered into the room and he was pleased to see them, even if he would have loved a heads up. Then again, he wasn’t sure he would have accepted it, which was probably why they hadn’t bothered. Having friends was confusing, God.
Still, the guilt didn’t shift, and promising the guys he would order pizza, he leaned against the island.
The guys are all round here. Why are you and Isaac not here?
Texting Michael was absolutely a mistake, but it was done, and Patrick was surprised when he got a reply almost immediately.
It’s fucking weird, that’s why. You just broke up with him and you don’t know me
They do, Patrick typed. I’m ordering pizza, let me know what you want if you’re coming.
Are you sure?
Patrick blew out a breath. Not really. Yeah. Isaac and I share friends, but I’m not stealing them. We can be civil, right?
It took a while for the reply to come.
Isaac says you know his order, I want meat.
Shit. What the fuck had he just done?
He was still agonizing over the decision when the doorbell rang and he swallowed, not sure if it was going to be the pizza or Isaac and Michael. He’d freaked out in the fucking car the other day just seeing Isaac, how was he going to handle having Isaac in his apartment? It was too soon, obviously, and he was going to have to leave, or not invite Isaac in, and–
“Patrick, get the pizza!” Natasha yelled, glaring over the back of the couch.
Patrick snapped out of his panic and started pulling his wallet out of his pocket, opening the door. “How much—”
Michael was standing in the doorway, pizzas boxes piled up in his hands, eyebrows raised. “Paid for ‘em.”
Patrick backed up a step, gesturing for Michael to walk into the apartment. His heart was in his throat, but he focused on the fact that Natasha and Jake were yelling Michael’s name, and he could feel their gazes on the back of his neck, skin prickling, but Isaac was on his doorstep and fuck, this was a bad idea.
“Hi,” Isaac said, looking wretched.
Fuck, Patrick scrubbed at his face. “Is this gonna be weird?”
“Probably,” Isaac said slowly, raising his eyes to meet Patrick’s. Patrick couldn’t figure out the complicated expression on his face. “I don’t have to stay.”
Patrick held Isaac’s gaze and it didn’t hurt less, but it just reminded him how much he missed having Isaac around. Sure, it wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had considering the way they’d ended things, the shit they’d put each other through, but fuck it, Patrick wanted him. “You should stay.”
Isaac looked surprised. “Are you—”
“I want you to stay,” Patrick said quietly.
Watching Isaac’s throat bob, Patrick wasn’t sure what he would choose to do, but then Sven was yelling that the pizzas were going cold, and Natasha and Jake were yelling for more beer, and Patrick rolled his eyes, smiling softly to himself when Isaac finally crossed the threshold.
It wasn’t perfect, obviously, and over the course of shoveling pizza into his mouth before it disappeared, Patrick found himself hyper aware of where Isaac was, what he was doing, and who he was talking to. It set him on edge, and he knew he was being vague and distracted, but thankfully, nobody called him on it.
Rebecca cornered him not long after, when he’d hurried into the kitchen for a break under the guise of getting water. “Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Patrick said, and dammit, there was a touch of hysteria in his tone.
“Patrick.”
“All right, it’s fucking weird, but I’m fine. I’m not,” he paused, staring into the living area. Most of the pizza had been eaten, and his friends were lounging, some terrible TV show he didn’t recognize playing re-runs, and though he could see Isaac’s hair over the top of the couch, thankfully he wasn’t facing Patrick. “I thought it would be too hard, but I’m actually glad he’s here.”
Rebecca nodded, not saying anything, but she squeezed his arm quickly. “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Patrick said quietly. “I wouldn’t have let him in if I wasn’t sure about this.”
That seemed to satisfy her, and Rebecca left him alone.
Unfortunately, that also left him open for Natasha. Patrick rolled his eyes as she leaned against the bar, flashing him a pleased grin.
“Look at you,” she said. “Growing as a person.”
“Fuck off,” Patrick replied, good-naturedly. “It’s not growth to not be a dick.”
It was a mouthful, and he frowned at himself, but Natasha’s eyes softened a fraction. She really was going to have to go back to being the bitch he knew so well. Unless, of course, that had been as much a defense to his own dickery as it was a part of her.
“I’d say not for you, but you weren’t that much of a dick.”
“Pretty sure we’ve had this conversation.” The coffee machine finally decided to listen to him. “Anyone for coffee?”
There was a chorus of yells, and Eddie offering to help, but Natasha waved him off.
“I’ve got it.”
“You can’t sugar coat the way I was, am,” Patrick told Natasha, as she settled nine mugs on the side. “I’m a dick and we both know it.”
“Maybe,” Natasha allowed. “But the point of having friends is so they help you realize that’s not all you are.”
Which she was actually doing an amazing job with, not that Patrick knew how to say that meaningfully. He settled for a comfortable silence, and the thought that all of his friends were in the room, including Isaac and Michael. It was a strange feeling, and it would take some getting used to, the idea that he could be around Isaac without it hurting someday, but for now, he was content.
It couldn’t last, of course, and as soon as he was settled in the love seat with his mug of coffee, Gary said, “I saw the article.”
Patrick winced, focusing on the television. “It wasn’t hard to miss.”
“It was bullshit,” Sam said, surprising Patrick with his vehemence. “Can’t even volunteer without getting your picture splashed everywhere.”
The back of Patrick’s neck was hot, aware that Isaac was in the room and hearing picture splashed everywhere was giving him uncomfortable reminders. Patrick regretted giving in to his guilt and inviting him round.
Sipping from his hot coffee, and wincing when it burned his tongue, Patrick hoped that if he didn’t say anything, it would put a stop to the conversation. Figured Patrick wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Why’d you do it?”
The conversation lulled, and Patrick closed his eyes, Sheila’s question sounded a little more accusatory on Isaac’s lips.
“Isaac,” Sam said with warning.
“It’s fine,” Patrick said, eyes on a point of the wall above Isaac’s shoulder. It beat having to watch the expressions on Isaac’s face. “I wanted to help out. Eddie and Sam have been talking about it for ages, so I thought I’d see what it’s like.”
Isaac swallowed. “You’ve never had any interest in it before.”
“Yeah, well, that was before my relationship broke down and I realized I didn’t know a fucking thing about my veteran boyfriend or what he’d been through and figured I should probably do something about that.”
The silence was almo
st deafening.
Patrick cursed, climbing up from the couch and stalking into the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, he realized he should have used the en suite, then he could have stayed in his bedroom. Now, he’d still have to go through the living area to get there. Fuck.
There was a knock at the door.
“You can come out now,” Eddie said, sounding tired.
Patrick snorted. “Yeah, how about no.”
“Isaac’s gone.” Natasha was out there too. Wonderful. Definitely not what Patrick wanted, and he felt a pang of regret that he’d driven Isaac to leave. Everything was so fucked up.
Patrick opened the door slowly, leaning his forehead against the door jamb. “Tell me I didn’t say that.”
Natasha’s smile was wry. “I could lie.”
“But she isn’t going to.” Eddie was perched on one of the kitchen stools, giving Patrick a searching look. “Volunteering at the VA because you didn’t know anything about Isaac’s experiences doesn’t even make sense.”
“I know,” Patrick said, not wanting to have this conversation. Isaac had indeed gone and taken Michael and Sam with him. The others were still present, though Sven and Gary were putting on their jackets. “Guys, you don’t have to go.”
“It’s late anyway,” Gary said, pausing long enough to give Patrick a hug. “Call me if you need anything, right?”
What Patrick needed was to rewind the last half hour and pretend nothing had happened. “Sure.”
“We probably shouldn’t have come over unannounced,” Sven added, and Patrick snorted.
“It’s fine, Sven. It was good.”
Eddie waited until the door had closed behind them, before poking Patrick in the side. “So? What’s the real reason you worked at the VA?”
“You know the real reason,” Patrick said.
“I suspect the real reason,” Eddie told him. “It helped that Sam and I helped out there, but I think you would have found your way there anyway.”
Patrick didn’t want to answer the question, but Eddie wouldn’t let him go unless he confessed. “It might not make sense to you, but I wanted to know how people – I realized I had never asked Isaac about it, don’t know why, and I needed to know how people – what people needed when they were veterans, because I wanted to know how to help Isaac.”
Eddie said nothing for a long while, so Patrick left him to it, disappearing into his bedroom just for a breather. When he risked coming back out, Rebecca and Eddie were getting ready to leave, though reluctantly. Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but Patrick shut him down, wanting everyone to leave – including Jake and Natasha, who were hovering awkwardly in a way that meant he’d have to forcibly remove them if he wanted them gone. Thankfully, Eddie and Rebecca just informed him they’d be calling him tomorrow.
“Guys,” Patrick said to Jake and Natasha, propped up against the back of the couch. “I really don’t wanna hear it.”
“Tough,” Jake said. His sympathetic expression belied his tone, and Patrick was startled by the sincerity when he started to gather up the pizza boxes. “We had a friend vote, and despite Eddie and Rebecca pulling the eternal BFF card, Natasha and I won.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Friend vote? And what the fuck is an eternal BFF card.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, collecting some of the mugs. Patrick sighed and trailed them into the kitchen, forgoing washing up manually and shoving them in the dishwasher instead.
“You know the answers to both of those questions,” Jake pointed out, stacking the boxes near the recycling bin. “Besides, I was the one who sat with Isaac after your chat.”
Chat was a nice way of saying breakup argument, but Patrick let it go. “Pretty sure Sam was there too.”
Jake stared at Patrick. “I know you didn’t think Sam was gonna stick around when Isaac ran out of here like he was on fire.”
Patrick winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Jake,” Natasha said, exasperated. “He didn’t run because you were an idiot, Patrick, even if you were.” At Patrick’s expression, she paused in the middle of the living room, her fingers looped through the handles of the last of the mugs. “He’s scared.”
“Yeah, aren’t we both,” Patrick muttered, putting the last of the mugs into the dishwasher. “It hurts to be around him.”
“Duh,” Jake said, ignoring the elbow Natasha was digging into his ribs. “What? I’m just saying, we can all see how bad it is for them.”
“I want to win him back,” Patrick continued, leaning against the counter. As the words were coming out of his mouth, Patrick realized how true they were. He didn’t want things with Isaac to be difficult. He missed Isaac, and he missed how easy things with his friends were, and he just wanted Isaac back in his life without it being awkward.
Not that he was expecting it to be easy, and thanks to his mouth deciding shit way ahead of his brain, he’d probably end up having a panic attack once Natasha and Jake had gone.
Natasha blew out a breath, exchanging a look with Jake.
Jake sighed. “Jesus, Patrick.”
“Yeah,” Patrick said, more than aware of the dilemma he was in.
Chapter Thirty
Sarah’s apartment hadn’t changed. Patrick didn’t know why he’d expected it to. If he was being honest, he’d expected Sarah to shut the door in his face and refuse to speak to him. Instead, she’d seemed almost relieved, opening the door and letting him in, asking him if he wanted anything to drink, or eat.
“Coffee would be great,” Patrick said, because he could see she wanted something to do.
“I wondered if you would bother coming back,” Sarah said, setting the coffee maker going. It was similar to the one in Patrick’s apartment and he wondered if Isaac had recommended it. When she looked at him, her eyes worried, Patrick had to look away. “I’m sorry about what happened between you. If I had known–”
Patrick frowned. “Sarah, it had nothing to do with you. Isaac and I, well, we had issues long before he ever introduced me to you.”
Sarah was silent as she made the coffee, setting both mugs on the table, and taking a moment to consider her words. Patrick could be patient; he still didn’t know why she’d let him in. “You were good for him, Patrick.”
“I don’t know that that’s true,” Patrick said slowly. “We hurt each other.”
“Sometimes people do,” Sarah said. She had her hands wrapped around the mug, refused to shift her gaze from Patrick’s face. It would have been disconcerting if Patrick didn’t appreciate the motherly touch so much. “That doesn’t mean it has to be the end completely.”
Patrick hated himself for the little blossom of hope that stirred in his chest. After his conversation with Jake and Natasha, he’d freaked out – as he’d predicted – but then spent the next morning realizing that he did want Isaac back, and that changing wouldn’t mean anything if he couldn’t do it with Isaac. “I don’t even know if he’d still want me.”
“Patrick,” Sarah said carefully, “I don’t think there’s anything my son wants more right now.”
It hurt, as much as it was what Patrick wanted to hear. “I’ve convinced myself I want to win him back,” he admitted, “but I’m worried this whole… changing thing I’ve got going on, I’m only doing it for Isaac. Pretty sure my therapist would call that unhealthy.”
“Perhaps,” Sarah allowed. “Then again, I think doing it for someone is fine, as long as you’re also doing it for you.”
Was Patrick doing it for him?
Isaac was the catalyst, sure, but if he’d continued on as he had been, he doubted he would have been content with himself for long. That, or he’d have drunk himself to death within a couple of years.
“I think,” he said, tapping a finger against his mug, “if I’d kept up with the drinking.” He trailed off, not sure he wanted to continue with the thought in front of Sarah.
Sarah sat back in the chair, lips quirking up into a smile. “So just for the drink?”<
br />
“I spent so long comparing Isaac to everything else that’s happened in my life,” Patrick admitted. “It wasn’t fair to him, and it meant that I – that I didn’t accept my feelings for him in time to do something about it.”
“That you love him, you mean?”
Sarah’s bluntness was shocking, but Patrick didn’t get the hurt he had before.
“I do love him,” Patrick said, unashamed, and feeling a sense of relief with it. “I want him back.”
“So, fight for him,” Sarah said with a shrug, as if it was that easy. “Patrick, I promise you, Isaac is still in love with you. I’m not going to pretend you’ll manage it. My son can be stubborn, even when it comes to his own happiness, and if he really doesn’t want to, I hope you talking to him will repair your friendship at least. I want that for both of you.”
“Why?” Patrick asked, genuinely confused. “If Isaac didn’t want me, why would that matter to you?”
Sarah’s expression shifted into something approaching pity. Thankfully it wasn’t that outright, Patrick might have turned antagonistic, but it was marginally sympathetic. “You loved my son, Patrick, without knowing anything about him. That’s all any mother wants for her son.”
That didn’t explain why she was willing to want things for Patrick, but maybe that was because Patrick had no idea what motherly instincts and feelings looked like.
“If Isaac doesn’t want me, I will respect that.”
“I know,” Sarah said, reaching over to squeeze Patrick’s hand. “And that’s why I want happiness for you as well.”
Patrick blew out a breath. He didn’t know where he was going to start, but he had plenty of friends who would be willing to help him. Especially if it meant they didn’t have to play go-between at gatherings.
When it was time to leave, Sarah paused at the doorway, bringing Patrick into a hug, and resting her hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “You should speak to Michael. I know you – that he was part of the reason you and Isaac had problems, but if you’re not going to listen to me, at least speak to him.”