by Nicky James
I’d just gotten off with Gray. My best friend. What did this mean?
“Beck?” he whispered, breaking the stillness in the room.
I didn’t know how to respond or what to say. I fumbled for words. Something.
“Are you freaking out right now?” he asked.
“Lil’ bit.”
Silence. Fuck, I needed to say something.
Anything.
“Gray… I…” I what? Dammit!
“I know.” He moved my hand off him and secured it at his waist again, then he gave a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Go ahead. I get it.”
He was giving me permission to escape. He knew my head was not processing all we’d done and that I needed a minute. Or ten.
Wordlessly, I peeled myself from his body and shamefully slinked off the bed. My heart wouldn’t calm. Blindly, I searched for clothes, but every movement held a dream-like quality, and I started doubting reality. Maybe this was another dream.
When I reached the door, Gray’s words stopped me.
“Beck.” I didn’t turn around. He didn’t ask me to. “Just… If you decide this was a big mistake, I understand. But please…please don’t shut me out. I can forget it ever happened if that’s what you want. But I can’t lose my best friend.”
I wanted desperately to choke out some form of reassurance, but I couldn’t find my voice. The best I could do was nod.
Chapter Fourteen
Grayson
He was gone. The door to the apartment had clicked over five minutes ago, but I hadn’t moved. The finality of that single sound still resonated in my ears. A hollow ache in my chest made it hard to breathe. I had no idea if what had happened was the best thing in my life or the biggest mistake.
Losing Beck after having lost so much would devastate me. I wasn’t sure I could recover.
I clicked on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of the bed. Listening for him to return but knowing it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, I retrieved my prosthesis and fit it on. There was no sense trying to sleep. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Plus… I needed to clean up.
With my nerves on edge, I clicked on all the lights in the apartment and set the kettle on the stove. Maybe a hot tea would help calm my nerves. As thrilled as I was over what had taken place, I couldn’t shake the awful sense of dread that Beck would conclude it was all a mistake and our friendship wouldn’t recover.
Deciding against the uncomfortable settee, I dragged a chair over to George’s cage and removed his cover. He was sleeping, but the action woke him, and he ruffled his feathers and squawked.
I settled with my tea in front of his cage and glanced around before opening the small door.
“Hey, you. Wanna play?”
From the corner of the cage, I picked up George’s wooden wheel and sat it upright, rolling it in demonstration to entice him to ride.
He groomed his feathers silently but watched the motion.
“Come on. Get up there. You know you wanna.”
Unable to resist, he trotted over and hopped onboard, moving his little bird feet so the wheel took him across the cage. I chuckled and shut the door again, watching him play.
“So, I had an interesting night just now. Any chance I can spill my soul to you since I have no one else to talk to?”
He whistled to himself and wheeled along, ignoring me. When the wheel hit the side of the cage and toppled, the smart guy jumped down and fiddle with it until it was upright again. On he went.
Only as he made his second journey across the cage did I realize I had company sitting at my feet, attentively watching every move George made.
“George is not on the menu,” I told Ringo. His whiskers twitched, and I knew he didn’t agree.
His amber cat eyes found mine, and we spend a nerve-wracking moment having a stare down.
“Do you know something I don’t?” I asked him. “Did you see what just went down in that bedroom? Were you creeping us?”
Ringo’s focus was daunting. Did cats blink, because he certainly wasn’t. When he grew bored and rested in a ball at my feet, I relaxed. He closed his eyes and looked like he was planning a nap. As he got comfortable, he reached out a paw and rested it on the base of my prosthesis.
I stared at the connection feeling two things. A burst of affection for this strange cat who I’d once written off as being demonic. And sadness because, although it was technically an extension of my leg, I couldn’t feel him touching me.
Swamped with emotions, I stared at the sleeping cat for a long time as I processed Beck’s actions earlier. I knew I’d been having another nightmare. Waking up in his embrace was the balm my heart had needed at that moment. It was a rare occasion for Beck to show physical affection toward me. Not that he didn’t care, but we were guys, and even though I knew my sexuality wasn’t an issue, there had always been that cautious barrier.
Waking in such a panic, I’d been happy to soak up his reassurance and comfort. Then he’d caught me off guard. His mouth trailing my skin was one thing, and I’d been foggy still, deciding if I was overthinking it, then his tongue had burned a path straight to my dick when he licked me.
From that moment on, it was game over.
What did it mean?
I was too afraid to hope. Too afraid to wish for more.
Time would tell.
Time…
I blinked at the cat, the room and awareness returning. Whipping my head to the wall where the clock once sat, I cursed. It wasn’t there anymore.
“Fuck! What time is it?”
Squawk! “What time is it?” Squawk!
My heart jolted with the onslaught of panic, and I flipped my gaze to the bird, unsure I’d heard him right.
Squawk! “What time is it?” he repeated.
“How the fuck did you learn to say that so fast?”
I’d learned a thing or two about George since Beck had brought him home years ago, and I knew it could take weeks of repeating words and phrases for him to catch on. There was no way he could have repeated me after only a single exclamation.
My throat clicked as I swallowed.
It begged the question: How often did I frantically ask what time it was and not even realize it?
Enough George could imitate me perfectly. Right down to the raw panic in my tone.
I took my cold tea to the kitchen and dumped it. Deciding Beck wasn’t coming back any time soon, I returned to bed and settled under the cool sheets. I didn’t turn off the light.
Lying on my side, I adjusted the clock so I could watch it and found my watch on the side table. In the quiet of the night, watching the second hand making its circuit was the only way for me to be assured that time hadn’t stopped.
As illogical as the thought was, I couldn’t erase the gut-curdling fear.
At some point, sleep took me under its veil again. That time, I was spared from the nightmares.
The following morning, Beck was still gone. I had a physio appointment at ten, so I got up and showered with slightly more practiced ease. I’d learned a few tricks over the past few weeks that helped me not feel so uncomfortable. When I returned home, I’d be adding some support bars to my own washroom to help me out. Maybe I’d look into getting a bigger tub put in too.
After a small breakfast of cereal and coffee, I called a cab and made my way down to the shop. Bracing for the worst, I went through the beaded curtain to the front of the shop and glanced around. It was quiet, and I didn’t see Beck anywhere.
The sign on the front door had been flipped to open, so I ducked my head into a few rooms, seeking him out. We couldn’t avoid each other forever.
In the gift shop, I startled Maria who was up on a stepladder, adjusting a display.
“Don’t fall,” I said as she clutched a hand to her chest in surprise and laughed.
“Shit, I didn’t expect anyone. I always listen for the bells. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry. Have you seen Beck?�
�
She frowned and tipped her head to the side. “He’s not upstairs? He called me at six this morning and asked me to come in today because he wasn’t feeling well.”
I opened my mouth to respond but didn’t know exactly what to say, so I snapped it shut again. Maria came down the ladder and leaned on the counter beside me.
“What’s up? Did you guys fight or something?”
It really wasn’t my place to share, so I gave her a half smile and shrugged. “Nah, he…” I scrambled. “He had a date last night with that friend of yours.” Not a lie. “He didn’t come home. I guess it must have gone well. Anyway…” I pushed off the counter and thumbed over my shoulder. “I have an appointment, so I was just leaving.”
If Maria talked with her friend, she’d know right away I was lying. I had to hope it would hold up long enough for me to talk with Beck.
Maria’s face brightened. “Oh right! I forgot he had that date. That fucker! Here I thought he was actually sick and felt sorry for him and instead he’s probably laid up in bed with Nova. The little slut.”
“That he is.”
“I was talking about Nova, but Beck certainly makes his rounds too, doesn’t he?”
I didn’t want to think about that. Too many questions were piling up without answers. What had happened with his date last night? I hated to think he’d done a bed-hop, fucking her then coming back to the apartment and getting off with me.
I tossed those thoughts out of my head before they ate at me just as a horn honked outside.
“That’s my ride. I gotta run.”
* * *
“Have you looked into getting adaptions put onto your car so you can drive again?”
“Not yet. The idea of learning how to drive again is kinda depressing, to be honest.”
Aurora guided me through a routine end-bearing, desensitization exercise before we tried yet another type of prosthesis. She’d promised me this one was exactly the type I’d prefer since learning I enjoyed an active lifestyle including gym time.
“Gray, your mental health is important. Getting out and relearning all those things you used to do before will help. Writing them off as impossibilities will only make you more miserable.”
I knew it was true, but I hadn’t found the courage to accept it yet. The best solution for a right leg amputee was having the foot pedals in the car switched to accommodate the left foot instead. That meant learning to drive all over again. Fifteen years of instincts would be hard to break. Plus, the cost for those adaptions was outrageous.
“I’ll look into it.”
She fit my prosthesis and patted my thigh. “Up and at ‘em. Take a run around and let me see how it goes.”
“You don’t actually mean run, do you?”
“I do. We have a lot of shock absorption here, and you told me you enjoyed running and working out. Now get going.”
I took a few tentative steps at first and was satisfied with the way it felt. A small bud of hope bloomed inside me at the prospect that I might possibly be able to achieve this goal.
After a few slow laps and a couple of adjustments, we were done for the day.
“It’s been a couple of weeks now so I think you can prolong your wear time to a full day. However, pay close attention to how you’re feeling. We talked about what to look for. If you take your gym time to the next level—which I encourage you to do—make especially sure you are keeping a dry sock. The last thing you need is irritation and skin breakdown.”
“Gotcha.”
“And, Gray?”
“Yeah?”
“Smile. I know it feels like the end of the world, but it’s not.”
When I couldn’t summon anything close to authentic to my face, she asked, “Have you followed up with Dr. Kelby since your discharge?”
“No. I’m all right. Just a lot on my mind today.”
“Depression is normal after an amputation. It wouldn’t hurt, Gray.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I wouldn’t because I didn’t want to admit defeat. This would pass once I got back to my daily routine. Once I returned to work and my house was livable again.
Aurora and I said our goodbyes. She adjusted my appointments so I was scheduled to come only twice a week now. I called a cab and considered an afternoon stuck in Beck’s apartment with nothing to do. It wasn’t appealing, especially since last night and not knowing where Beck had taken off to.
When the cab arrived, I told them to take me to the office building of Greenlife Gardens Landscaping Co. The place I’d been employed for the past ten years. The teams would all be on location, especially since it was spring and our busiest time of the year, but I knew Stacey would be tapping away at her computer like always, filling the schedule so full the guys would be bitching until Christmas.
The cab dropped me off in the parking lot. There was one white company truck still in the lot with our landscaping logo splashed across the side doors. The back was loaded with gear, so I assumed someone had popped back into the office for some reason.
Before going in, I pulled my phone out and checked to see if I had any messages from Beck. Nothing. It was after lunchtime, and I had no clue if he’d ventured home yet or not.
I shot him off a text.
Gray: Let me make you dinner tonight. We can talk.
I hesitated before hitting send, wondering if he’d interpret it as me asking him for a date. Dismissing the notion, since we were living together and dinner was a normal topic of discussion, I let the message be delivered.
It was twelve twenty-seven. If my phone was correct. I compared it to my watch which sat snug on my arm. Holding the devices side by side, I flipped my gaze between them a few times, assuring myself it was the same.
I searched for the uneasiness that had been following me around recently, but my head was quiet at the moment, and I was glad.
Maybe it was going away.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I headed through the front door, the bells clanging my arrival. Stacey peered up from her computer behind the reception desk and her face morphed from bored to glee.
“Grayson!” she squealed as she shoved away from her desk and raced around to greet me. Sizing me up, she clasped a hand over her mouth. “You’re walking! Holy shit, that’s amazing!”
I chuckled and held my arms out, inviting her into a hug. Stacey was our overly affectionate secretary and unofficial comforting ear. All the guys gravitated to her with their problems. She exuded a calming aura and always knew what to say.
A head shorter than me, I rested my chin on the top of her head as she squeezed. Her frizzy auburn curls tickled my nose. The woman had more hair than was normal. She wore it loose and long, telling me at one time long ago that no brush had ever survived her locks.
“How are you feeling? You look amazing. I mean, you always look amazing, but wow. I can’t believe you’re walking.”
She patted my chest and sized me up and down with the widest grin.
“It’s been a long road, but I’m getting there.”
“Are you coming back? The guys have all been talking about you. You are missed.” Before I could answer, she raised her voice and yelled into the back room. “Billy! Grayson’s here.”
“Is Doug here?” I asked. It was rare for our boss to be on premise. Mostly he was out supervising our jobs around town or at home.
“Nah, but he’ll be in this afternoon. You should wait around. He’d love to see you.”
“Holy shit! Look what the cat dragged in.”
I lifted my gaze from Stacey and smiled as two of my long-time co-workers came from the back, grinning their faces off.
“Billy! Javier!”
I shook hands with both of them which turned into a side hug back slap kind of thing.
“Look at you all walking around. You coming back? Gus will kiss the fucking ground when he hears,” Billy said, smacking Javier’s shoulder as Javier nodded in agreement.
“You should s
ee the kid they put on your crew while you’re out. Doug got him through a temp agency. Waste of space. Seriously,” Javier added.
“I don’t know what I’m doing yet, to be honest. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do the job. I only got the green light this morning to wear this bad boy all day now.” I patted my thigh to give emphasis to my statement. “I can’t drive the truck, that’s for certain. Gussy won’t want me back yet. I’ll slow him down.”
“Fuck that! That kid slows him down. You doing half the work you normally do is better than him. Besides, we are busy as shit, man. We need you.”
It was nice to be wanted. Stacey squeezed my arm and raced back to her desk when the phone rang.
“I’ll have a word with Doug. Half days might be best to start with. See how I make out.”
“Anything you can give us. Trust me, Gussy’s been crying a river to Stacey since you’ve been off.”
“He has,” Stacey agreed as she covered the receiver.
I’d been working alongside August Pervilla—or Gus—since day one. We were a rock solid pair and had developed a system long ago that was fast and efficient. I knew I’d have been just as lost if the tables were turned.
“I’ll make an appointment to see Doug. I don’t have a doctor’s approval yet, but I have another follow-up next week. Believe me, I need to work.”
I just didn’t know if I could do the job I left behind before the accident.
We chatted for a bit more about random stuff. I was a friendly face at work and got along with everyone. However, I didn’t take those friendships further. I like my solitude in my off time, and although the guys I worked with were solid, they could be overwhelming.
My cell rang, interrupting us. I pulled it from my pocket, hoping it was Beck. It was my mother. Grimacing, I declined the call, knowing I’d need to return it later or else she’d just keep trying.
“Anyhow. It’s been great chatting, but we gotta fly. You take care, and I hope we see you soon,” Billy said.