Yearn

by A. D. Ellis

  I really wanted to talk to Gabby, but I tried not to put her in the middle of Khi and me. So, I followed Cooper down to the kitchen where Bev was just pouring tea.

  “Grab those cookies and settle in, boys. It’s been too long since we had a chat.” I knew Aunt Bev missed having Cooper in the house, but she also adored having Cooper, Jesse, and Hadley right next door. She brought the mugs to the table and we sat down with hot tea and butter cookies. “Now, Khi seems grumpier than usual and you don’t seem to be much better. What’s going on between you two?”

  I chuckled. “That’s a much longer answer than we have time for over tea.” Nibbling on a cookie, I thought back to those long-ago high school days. “I guess the easiest way to explain it is that Khi and I have always rubbed each other the wrong way.”

  Cooper grinned over his mug. “Maybe you two should give in and rub each other the right way.” He wagged his brows.

  I huffed, heat warming my cheeks. “Pretty sure the only contact he wants to have with me is to get his hands around my throat.”

  “Ohhh, kinky,” Cooper teased.

  “Cooper Scott, let the boy talk.” Bev shoved the plate of cookies Cooper’s way. “Put a cookie in your mouth and hush.” She turned to me. “You and Khi had a thing back in the day?”

  I scoffed. “Not even close, unless by thing you mean our little every-single-thing-you-do-annoys-the-hell-outta-me situation.”

  “Why the animosity? Did something happen?” Bev sipped her tea.

  “It’s a long story and I don’t even know that I understand where the dislike started. But suffice it to say that we were very different back then. I was an immature closeted gay kid hell bent on doing anything I could to make sure no one ever suspected I was gay. Khi was focused on getting out of Bellville. Anything we might have had—which would have probably just been friendship—never got a chance to get started. Which was likely for the best if I’m being honest, we were too young and too different. But I fucked it up royally the day Khi left town.” I grabbed another cookie.

  “So, not to switch the subject, but you know how I am—and I get the feeling you’re not going to give juicy details about the past.” Cooper bounced a knee as he tapped fingers on the table. “What happened with your boss?”

  I sighed. “She switched a bunch of shifts and assignments. On a positive note, I got promoted to day shift.” I chomped on the cookie, not even sure I could feel excited or proud about the promotion.

  Bev winced. “And Khi?”

  “He got a new partner,” I deadpanned.

  The two were silent for a moment before realization dawned.

  “Ohhhh, bitch,” Cooper drawled. “No way. You and Khi are partners now? Like work every shift together? Ride in the same ambulance?”

  I leaned forward on my elbows and held my face in my hands. “Yep. Twenty-four-hour shifts. When we aren’t in the rig, we’ll be at the station. There’s a lot of downtime with this job, so we can probably avoid each other some. Like we won’t have to eat together or hang out. But we’ll bunk together, take calls, all that.” I scrubbed my hands over my face.

  “And then come back here and share a room.” Cooper’s eyes were wide.

  I nodded.

  Bev clucked her tongue. “I say it’s about damn time.”

  My eyes shot to hers. “What?” Damn, could I not even get support from my own aunt?

  “Child, I didn’t get to visit you much way back then, but I saw you enough to know you weren’t the most pleasant young man to be around in your early teens.” She patted my hand. “And don’t misunderstand, I don’t blame you for the way you were. Your parents—yes, she’s my sister but I can’t condone her behavior—nearly ruined you. I thank the good Lord that you got out of there and finally found your true self.”

  I raised a brow. “And now you think it’s a good thing that I’m stuck with someone who hates me—don’t get me wrong, I’m not overly fond of him either, but I think his hatred runs deeper than mine.” I took the last drink of my tea. “And you’re okay with it?”

  “For one,” Bev wagged her finger, “I don’t see Khi as hating you so much as being hurt and afraid and dealing with a load of baggage from his past—the distant and not so distant—but that’s not really my place. Two, I think being forced together will maybe finally get the two of you talking. I’ve always said communication is the key in any relationship. If you two keep going on avoiding and ignoring the issues between you, they’ll just get worse.” She brushed a few crumbs into her hand and dropped them on the empty plate. “Maybe this job situation will push a change.”

  Was she serious? I glanced at Cooper and he shrugged. “She has a point. One thing I’ve learned since moving here, Bev is usually pretty spot-on with her take on things. And her whole communication is the key thing is actually pretty helpful.” He gave me a teasing smile. “If talking and using our words helps with my preschoolers, maybe it can work with you and Khi.”

  I flipped him off as I groaned. “So, I’m stuck with Khi basically on an endless loop of time and the two of you agree it’s probably for the best? Do I have that right?”

  They both gave me sorry-not-sorry smiles.

  “I want it noted that I’m not in agreement. You’ll see. This is going to be a disaster.”

  Cooper winked and Bev gave a solemn nod. “Noted.”

  Four

  Khi

  “Do you remember my first date?” Logan asked as we leaned against a workbench in the shop and watched Jesse and Cruz work.

  Scents of oil, gasoline, and rubber filled the air and I didn’t completely hate it. There was something somewhat comforting about being there. Almost as if I could block out the shit-show of my life and breathe easier. I knew next to nothing about the mechanics of a car, but the noise of tools, music, and casual chatter was a welcome relief.

  I thought about Logan’s question. “Your first date with Cruz when he came to the door to pick you up?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Yeah, I remember. You were pacing and looking nervous as hell waiting for him.” I smiled as I thought of how good Logan and Cruz were together these days. My own life may have been a danger-zone for anything resembling a loving relationship, but I couldn’t begrudge others being happy.

  “Do you remember what you told me?”

  I winced. “I remember I’d had a bad day and I butted my nose in where it didn’t belong.”

  Logan shook his head and took a drink of water as he watched Cruz bent over the engine of his current project. “No—okay, well, you maybe butted in, and at the time the advice wasn’t welcome—but what you told me that day ended up being a huge part of who I am now—or at least who I’m working to be. It’s not been easy, but your words that day were a catalyst and I appreciate them more than you can know. So, thanks for butting in.”

  I shrugged. “Still think I should have kept my mouth shut, but you’re welcome. Glad things with you two worked out.”

  “They did.” Logan nodded. “But they only worked out because I worked on me.”

  I grunted.

  “In the spirit of maybe-I-should-keep-my-mouth-shut-but-I’m-not-going-to,” Logan rushed on, wincing when I shot him a look, “one of the things that helped me make the biggest strides toward healing and moving on was talking. I don’t know what happened between you and Dre or your breakup, and I’m sure those things hurt like hell, but talking about stuff like that really can help clear your head and make room for bigger and better.”

  Fists clenched and jaw set, I did my best not to growl at Logan. “First, nothing happened between me and Dre aside from him being an obnoxious jerk asshole who gets under my skin just by breathing.”

  Okay, that maybe wasn’t the whole truth, but it was all I was giving up. It wasn’t like Dre had broken my heart or anything, he was just a dick who annoyed me back then and annoyed me even more now.

  “Second, the breakup was a messy disaster. I thoroughly misjudged the guy and paid for it. Th
ere’s nothing to talk about.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Just the thought of having to admit how badly Blaine had fucked me over worked me up.

  As if sensing his boyfriend may have pushed me too far, Cruz popped up, wiping his hands on a rag. “What was so urgent that your boss had to call you back on a Sunday morning?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed—mentally exhausted from living with a man I couldn’t stand and now finding out I’d be spending nearly every moment of my life with him. “She switched shifts around.”

  “And it wasn’t a good move for you?” Logan asked warily.

  “If you call finding out that Dre is my new partner good—which, by the way, I don’t,” I bit out.

  “Oh, shit.” Cruz winced. “That’s…unfortunate.”

  I snorted. “Unfortunate. Now there’s a word for it.”

  “Are you worried Dre won’t be a good partner? Like he won’t pull his weight or know what he’s doing?” Logan asked.

  By that time, Jesse had paused his work and grabbed a water while he listened.

  “No, nothing like that. For an EMT, he’s really good.”

  Cruz cocked his head. “For an EMT? So, it’s true that paramedics look down on EMTs?”

  I huffed and started to protest, but stopped and shrugged. “It’s not on purpose and it’s not directed at Dre. Paramedics have done a lot more schooling and training, I guess it goes to our heads. But, no, Dre is good—of all the shit I don’t like about him, I can admit that he’s probably one of the best. I’ve not worked with him until this point, but I know he gets top-notch reviews and the crew respects him.”

  “You just don’t want to be his partner.” Logan tossed his water bottle into the recycling bin.

  “Understatement of the year,” I grumbled. “It’s bad enough having to share a room with him here. Now we’ll be assigned to the same bunk room at the station and ride together.” I ran a hand over his face. “Which means he’ll be driving and I hate it.”

  “He drives because he’s the EMT?” Jesse asked.

  I nodded. “I don’t particularly like riding anyway, but knowing he’s hauling my ass around just irks me.”

  Cruz studied me for a moment. “What is it you dislike about him so much?”

  Gritting my teeth, I weighed my answer. Part of me wanted to tell them all to go fuck themselves because it wasn’t their business. But I wanted to move on from being that standoffish prick Blaine had turned me into, so I took a breath and opted to think of these men as friends. Friends talked, right?

  “He was just that annoying younger guy when I met him. Spoiled, rich, know-it-all, ya know?” I toyed with the lid of my water bottle. “Spent a lot of his time making sure everyone around knew how disgusted he was by my sexuality—well, about homosexuality in general.”

  A sound escaped from Logan’s throat and I glanced his way.

  “Dre? Dre had an issue with you being gay?” Logan frowned. “I knew he just recently came out and his parents are super religious and threw him out, but I can’t see him being a homophobe.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, well…maybe he’s different now, but he was obnoxious about it back then.” Bringing up the day I left Bellville wasn’t something I wanted to do. Now or ever. I could admit that a person could change, but it didn’t do anything to ease the way Dre had made me feel that day. From an unexpected, hopeful—even if ridiculous—high to a crashing low. I was willing to forget about it, but I didn’t see how any amount of changing or talking could fix what Dre and I had.

  The next morning, the tension was thick. By chance—or maybe he’d done it knowing my schedule—he’d showered the night before so the bathroom was free for me, but there was no way to skip the awkwardness.

  I’d dressed in the bathroom just to avoid being around him and gave a sigh of relief when I saw he was already up and out of the bedroom when I emerged from my morning routine.

  A twinge of guilt hit me as I walked into the kitchen and saw Dre waiting for his coffee to finish. The guy looked exhausted. I winced. Our shifts weren’t easy on the sleep cycle to begin with. Switching from nights to days probably fucked him up even more.

  I sneered at my thoughts. Why the hell would I care? If he didn’t like the change, he could take it up with the boss, quit, or deal with it. My vote was for quit, but I figured I wouldn’t get that lucky.

  “Made you coffee.” Dre yawned and pointed toward a travel mug. “Didn’t know how you liked it.”

  “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t make me coffee. Don’t try to be friendly. Don’t act like we’ll just chat our shift away and not recognize how shitty all of this is.” I yearned to pick up the warm cup and sip its caffeinated goodness, but everything in me refused to give Dre that satisfaction. “Don’t be late.” I grabbed my keys. I’d get coffee and food at the station. There was always coffee and food.

  Dre’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. “Did you want to ride together? Save gas?”

  Was he fucking kidding me? “No.” Wanting to slam the door to punctuate my point, I controlled myself and closed it quietly so as not to wake the whole house.

  It was still dark outside; we’d be heading to work in the dark for at least three months. Leaving in the dark, home in the dark. I actually didn’t mind it. Summer shifts were harder. Leaving in the daylight was fine, but getting home and wanting to crash when the sun was up for hours still was rough.

  When I got to the station, I spent a few minutes chatting with the night shift crew members who were heading into their off days. I noticed Dre walk in as I said goodbye to a few of the crew I was somewhat friendly with; at least he was on time.

  Without a word to him, I set to work with the checklist to make sure our rig was well-stocked. Dre joined me and began on his own checklist. Outside of giving me a look from time-to-time, he kept his mouth shut which was how I liked it and how it needed to be.

  Once I was finished, I wandered to the coffee pot and thanked my lucky stars that it looked and smelled hot and fresh.

  “Thought you didn’t want coffee?” Dre stood beside me with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Didn’t want coffee from you.” I poured a cup and fixed it with sugar and cream before walking away. I had some online training courses I needed to finish. A lot of people thought my job was a constant stream of saving lives and that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. There was a lot of downtime. Which was great for catching a nap, running, lifting weights, taking training courses—all after my responsibilities on the rig—but it also meant things could get monotonous.

  I slipped in my earbuds and pulled up my coursework, trying to block out the sound of the television blaring and someone thudding away on a treadmill.

  We’d definitely have callouts during our shift. Probably four to six runs and most of them would be medical and not trauma. Every call still got my blood pumping; I was an adrenaline junky like most of the crew. Whether it was an unresponsive person, difficulty breathing, an unknown injury, or a big trauma, we never really knew what we were going into.

  I’d dealt with all sorts of callouts ranging from crazy to funny to sad to unsettling, although most of what we dealt with was pretty mundane. But I always felt good helping people, no matter what kind of services they needed.

  I never wanted the traumas, but my job was to be trained and ready for the smallest callout to the biggest and I made sure I was always prepared to tackle anything thrown my way.

  I settled in at my laptop, ready to jump if a call came in. Until then, I’d complete yet another training course and drink some coffee while trying to forget the fact that Dre fucking King was now my damn partner.

  Five

  Dre

  “You wanna grab food before we head back?” I asked as I pulled the rig out of the long emergency room drive. We’d successfully kept alive and delivered a heart attack patient. Likely wouldn’t ever hear of the final outcome—only the biggest, most memorable cases usually got brought back up in futur
e conversations—but we’d done our job by getting him to the hospital.

  “No,” Khi snapped.

  We’d been riding together for over a week and were on our fourth shift together. In the overall scheme of things, working with Khi wasn’t enjoyable, but it wasn’t horrible—more just annoying as hell. He pretty much acted as if I didn’t exist except in situations that mandated we speak.

  The biggest issue was just never really escaping the tension. If I was at work, he was there. If I was at home, he was there. We weren’t attached at the hip, obviously, but no matter what, we were always thrown back together for things like dinner, hanging out, relaxing, and sleeping.

  Dinner at the station often included the crew around the table. Dinner at home was almost always half of if not the entire gang.

  Hanging out at the station was usually a group. Hanging out at Remington Place was usually at least half of the housemates and neighbors.

  Relaxing at the station or at home—with my sketchbook and music—meant our shared room, unless I snagged another spot, but Khi was almost always around.

  Sleeping shouldn’t have been much of an issue, but I realized quickly that I was a fairly light sleeper and having someone else in the room with me made it hard to sleep. Since I didn’t want to get punched in the face, I didn’t bring it up, but Khi did a lot of tossing and turning, grunting and groaning, and made this tiny little noise I wouldn’t have called a full-fledged snore, but it was still annoying as hell.

  If we only saw each other from time-to-time, the silent treatment wouldn’t have bothered me so much. But we were together in some capacity well over half of our time. Khi’s grumpy-ass snappy comments and refusing to speak to me unless absolutely necessary were getting old.

  “I’m hungry. If you want the food at the station, whatever, I’d rather get a burger or something.” I headed toward a restaurant I knew had fast carry-out in case we got another call. Maybe I was being belligerent, but Khi’s attitude was on my last nerve. If I wanted to grab food, I was going to grab food. Khi be damned. And the fact that I was in control of where the rig went brought me a little jolt of glee.