“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe. Anyway, once they hauled me to the station I had a conversation with the chief. I think he was trying to give me some tough love.”
Nathan’s mouth formed a thin, angry line as their food arrived, sparing Sam for a moment. He took the opportunity to deflect.
“What’s up between the two of you, anyway?” Sam asked. “He doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
“I told you to stay out of this. You promised me—”
“I didn’t actually. Technically. But yeah. It was stupid, and I shouldn’t have done it. It was pointless, anyway.”
“Sam—”
“Please spare me the lecture, okay? I know it was stupid, but I’m fine. Fine except for the fact I spent last night in the drunk tank with two guys who’d pissed themselves. I did see the cops come back, though. They were pretty shaken up about it, especially Petersen.”
Nathan paused. “Oh?”
“Yeah, one of the other guys teased him for puking on the bridge. He looked as upset as I’ve ever seen him, but that’s not saying much. Apparently McCormick kept it together, which is interesting, given he’s new to the job.”
For a long time, Nathan didn’t speak. He stabbed his eggs vigorously and ate, staring straight ahead. Sam got that naughty puppy feeling again, but he didn’t know what he could do to make it better. He ate his breakfast, even though the toast tasted like cardboard.
The local news had turned to weather, showing a bleak ten-day forecast. November had never been Sam’s favorite month, and ever since the accident, it had gotten worse. Christmas seemed to come earlier and earlier each year, and now the whole damn month seemed to be a lead-up to the worst day of his life. The weatherman smiled cheerily and spoke of rain, rain, and more rain. Sam wanted to punch him in the face. Sam gave Nathan a sideways glance. He looked like he might be on the verge of telling Sam off again. Or leaving.
“Nathan?”
Nathan put his fork down. “I understand why you did it. But Jesus, this isn’t a game. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
The statement hurt worse than a slap. “Of course you can.”
“Can I?”
“If you would tell me what’s going on, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
They whispered, leaning close, and the waitress gave them a curious look as she refilled their coffees. Sam tried not to pay attention to how Nathan smelled, woodsy and warm, or the way Nathan’s thigh occasionally grazed his under the counter. It was already difficult enough to muster righteous anger, since he knew he’d messed up.
“What did you say to Sheldon? You talked about me?” Nathan asked.
Sam brought his mug to his lips. He could only remember scraps of conversation. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t say anything. He was going on about me getting arrested, said I was hanging out with a bad crowd. He meant you.” Something didn’t sit right. “But come to think of it, how did he even know we’ve been—”
“I’m under surveillance.” Nathan sighed.
“What?”
“My phone has been tapped. That’s the reason I called you from a pay phone. And I’m being followed. Or I was, at least, the other day. I probably shouldn’t be seeing you at all.”
“You’re still under suspicion.”
“It would appear so.”
Sam glanced around the room. An old couple sat in a booth behind them, and a few kids were crammed into another, probably skipping school. No one looked like a cop. Still, his scalp prickled at the thought of being watched. Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe Sam had been treating this too much like a game. It certainly didn’t seem like one anymore. “What about your alibi?”
An almost imperceptible shake of his head let Sam know this wasn’t the time or place. He let the subject drop—almost. He hated the idea of Nathan not being able to trust him.
“I am sorry, you know. I wanted to help you with the case. I never wanted to jeopardize it. So, if that’s what I did, I apologize. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to be able to help people. Or when I do, it turns out wrong. My friends think I’m a fuck-up. I can’t even help my little brother.” Sam stared into his half-empty mug. “I won’t try to get involved again.” He waited for a laugh or scoff. Neither came.
“It’s not about the case, you know. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it, Sam. And I don’t think you’re a fuck-up. I admire your courage.”
“Courage?” Sam snorted. “It takes a real hero to get himself thrown in a drunk tank.”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact you’ve been taking care of your brother all of these years by yourself. You lost your parents, but you built a life for yourself anyway.”
Sam’s eyes burned. “I did what I had to do.” And according to Yuri, it wasn’t much of a life.
“You don’t know how to take a compliment, do you?”
“If he would wake up, I’d feel like I’d done something to be proud of, you know? Speaking of….” Sam glanced at the wall clock. “I’ve got visiting hours in a few.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Nathan wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it neatly on the counter. He gestured for the check.
Sam grabbed for the bill when it arrived, but Nathan’s hand covered his. “I’ve got this.”
“It’s okay. I can pay for breakfast.” The rough warmth of Nathan’s palm made it hard to concentrate on anything else.
“All right. Thank you.”
Outside the diner, the gray sky had begun pissing rain, fulfilling the weatherman’s prophecy. Nathan popped the collar of his jacket against the rain. “I’ve gotta catch a cab. I didn’t want to risk driving.”
“Do you want to come with me to see Tim?” Sam asked before he had a chance to think about it.
Nathan didn’t hesitate. “I’d like that.”
“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you. Emma’s orchid… I was going to give it to the nurse who takes care of my brother. It’s in my truck. I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want you to think it doesn’t mean anything to me—”
“I think it’s a nice idea.”
They drove in comfortable silence, listening to the classic rock station Nathan had tuned in after Sam gave him permission to change the channel. He hummed a few bars of a particularly cheesy seventies power ballad and Sam held himself back from joining in, stealing a glance across the seat from the corner of his eye. Nathan was watching him too.
LISA GAVE Sam a smile and wave when he came in. She looked a little surprised to see another guest behind him.
“Good to see you, Sam,” she said. “He’s been waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry I missed last week.”
She nodded, something sad in her eyes, and glanced between the two of them. Nathan shuffled on his feet.
“This is Nathan. He’s a friend of mine.”
She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Her eyes drifted to the orchid. “That’s pretty. A gift for Tim?”
“No.” Sam set it on the desk. “You, actually.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.”
“I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of him.” Sam flushed a little under her pleased smile. It was just a damn plant. “I guess we’ll head down, then.”
It had been a while since Sam had brought company with him to visit Tim. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time. There was something comforting about not having to be alone, but Sam knew it wasn’t a feeling he could trust. This was a one-shot deal, born out of nothing more than Nathan’s curiosity. It didn’t mean anything.
Tim lay on the bed as he always did, staring blankly at the ceiling. A vase of flowers decorated the bedside table, and Sam thought Lisa must have put them there. He was glad he’d brought her the orchid.
“Heya, Tim,” Sam said. “This is Nathan. He wanted to meet you.”
�
�Hi,” said Nathan. He stood close to the bed, looking down at Tim. When he glanced back at Sam, his eyes were soft. “You two look alike.”
“Do we? You hear what he said, Timbo? You’re as ugly as me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Sam swallowed the hot feeling in his throat. “Yeah, well. You wanna sit?”
They grabbed two chairs and pulled them up to the side of the bed. Sam’s leg brushed against Nathan’s as they arranged themselves, sitting close together.
“So what do you usually do when you’re here?” Nathan asked.
“I talk to him. Sometimes I read. You know, he never got to finish high school. When he wakes up, I want to make sure he’s familiar with all the classics, so he doesn’t fall behind.” It sounded so stupid to say it out loud, Sam wanted to cringe. Nathan merely smiled.
“That’s a good idea.”
For some reason, the answer made indignant rage bubble out of his mouth. “No, it’s not. It’s a fucking dumb idea. He can’t hear a goddamn thing I say.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because if he could hear me, he’d wake up.” Again, a child’s answer. Sam suddenly wished he could kick Nathan out or reverse time so that he’d never invited him in the first place. He turned back to his brother on the bed. Tim’s face was placid, as innocent as an angel’s. The fact that Nathan thought they looked alike didn’t make any sense.
“What do the doctors say?”
“That he can probably hear, or maybe…. They don’t know. They don’t know anything. They told me he’d never breathe on his own, but look, he’s breathing. They say even if he wakes up, he’ll be a vegetable, because of the brain trauma. He’ll never regain anything but basic motor functions. They don’t know my brother. He’s smart, you know. An A-student. A helluva lot smarter than me.” Burning threatened his eyes, and instead of blinking the tears away, Sam let them fall.
“They treat him well here?”
“Yeah, but the insurance won’t cover the bill anymore, and after New Year’s they’re going to transfer him to some state-run place.” He wouldn’t get the care he needed there, and he wouldn’t wake up. That was the reality, and he’d just confessed it to Nathan. He hadn’t mustered the courage to tell Yuri or Rachel yet. He wasn’t sure he could stand their pity.
“I wanted to keep him here to give him a chance, you know? To make up for the fact I was a selfish dickhead when I was young. And I’ve tried. I’ve tried.”
“Of course you have. But we’re all selfish when we’re young. There’s no way you could have known, back then, what would happen.”
“That’s true, but it doesn’t change the facts.”
“You sound like me.” Nathan huffed a sigh.
“Yeah. I guess I do.”
Nathan squeezed Sam’s shoulder, and Sam thought about the times Nathan had touched him—at least three today. “What happened, with the accident?”
“They were driving to a Christmas party, and they hit a bad patch of road. My father lost control of the wheel. I was still on campus.” He’d been so happy—with a real boyfriend for the first time—getting laid, being free. The thought of going home for the holidays had sounded like so much of a drag, he put it off until the last possible moment. And then he got the call. “My parents died. And Tim…. I can’t help feeling I should have been there, but I wasn’t.”
Nathan’s hand stilled where it had been rubbing, and Sam leaned into the touch, wanting it to continue even if he didn’t deserve it.
“You once gave me some pretty good advice, and I want to return the favor. You shouldn’t have been there. Thank God you weren’t.”
Sam didn’t feel like arguing, not when Nathan started massaging him again. His warm hand cupped the back of Sam’s head. His fingers scratched lightly, and Sam couldn’t help the way his body responded. His cock twitched with interest, not confused like his brain. He closed his eyes and hoped Nathan didn’t notice.
Thoughts jumbled in his head like wet laundry in a broken drier. Maybe Nathan was touchy-feely with all his friends. Maybe it was a little fucked up to be seeking comfort from a guy whose wife had been murdered not four months before. Maybe it was even more fucked up to be sporting a semi in the same room as his comatose brother.
“Feels good,” he mumbled, letting his head fall to his chest.
With his talented fingers, Nathan sought all the places where the knots resided, and released them, one by one. Sam felt like he was floating. He couldn’t remember ever being touched so tenderly.
“I have to go,” Nathan finally said, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Oh? Where?”
“It’s… work related.”
The smell of mass-produced turkey and mashed potatoes wafted in from the hall, announcing the beginning of meal service for those patients who could still eat on their own. Along with Nathan’s news, it was enough to break the spell. The sudden cold on the back of his neck hit Sam like a shock.
“I’ll be gone for a few days or so.” Nathan glanced away, as though embarrassed, and Sam’s gut curdled with jealousy as he thought about the night Nathan had told him about his last case. Maybe this job would require Nathan to go undercover and fuck, or be fucked. Sam couldn’t decide which alternative pissed him off more.
He nodded, keeping his eyes on Tim. “Right. Well, good luck.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry I have to leave like this, but I’m already late. I’ll try to check in, see if you need anything.”
“I don’t need anything,” Sam said, injecting hardness into his voice. When he turned around, Nathan was pulling on his coat.
“I’ll catch a cab, all right?”
Sam stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine.”
Nathan looked like he might take a step forward, so Sam stepped back. He ignored the slightly hurt expression he received in return. “Thank you for introducing me to your brother.”
“It’s nothing.” Sam shrugged.
“Sam—”
“You don’t have to tell me to stay out of the way, okay? I get it. Go on… do whatever you have to do.”
As soon as Nathan left, Sam regretted his behavior. He’d acted stupidly—out of some sense of entitlement, some false expectation that something was happening between them—in spite of what Nathan had told him. Maybe Nathan had seen his response after all and had wisely decided to put the brakes on. Or maybe he really did have to work. It didn’t matter. Sam tamped down the hurt in his chest and let it bleed into numbness.
Chapter 12
IT KEPT raining. Sam and Yuri worked nine to five unclogging the last rotten fall leaves from drainpipes and readying their customers for the coming winter. According to the Farmer’s Almanac, it was shaping up to be a real doozy. Even though Sam never put any stock in it, Yuri did, and it gave Sam something to tease him about. Or at least, it used to.
Things hadn’t quite gotten back to normal since their fight. The ball was in Sam’s proverbial court, but he didn’t know how to broach the subject. He’d never been good at that. Besides, Yuri appeared perfectly content with his new boyfriend, smiling all the time in an aggressively cheerful way. To top it all off, over a week had passed since Nathan had left for work, and Sam had spent way, way too much time thinking about what he might be doing.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come along tonight?” Yuri asked hesitantly as they packed up for the day. “Michael would really like to meet you.”
Sam grimaced at his muddy boots and kicked one of them against the curb to release some of the dirt. “Doesn’t this guy have a nickname? Michael?”
“What does it matter? So, do you want to hang out or not? Rachel and Alex will be there too.”
“Oh fabulous, a double date. And I’m the fifth wheel.”
“Fine. Don’t come. Have fun getting drunk by yourself.” Yuri turned away and opened the door to his truck, and something inside Sam gave way. He grabbed the handle.
“Wait a second.
Yuri, I’m sorry. It’s only—what you said to me—”
“Aren’t you ever going to forgive me?”
“Of course. And I want to come along tonight and meet your new boy toy. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“A lot of someone, at least.”
Sam sighed, wondering when he’d gotten so transparent.
“You could always bring him along.”
“It’s not like that. Listen,” Sam said, wanting to change the subject. “I’ve missed hanging out with you like we used to. I mean, I know it can’t be like it used to. But you’re still my buddy, right?”
“Of course, you idiot. So, will you behave yourself tonight?”
“I’m not making any promises.” Yuri glared, and Sam threw up his hands. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’ll be an angel.” He drew an invisible halo around his head.
“You’d better be.” But Yuri was smiling.
It turned out the whole shebang wasn’t half bad. For one thing, Michael was a lot less boring than Sam had expected. His freckles and fair skin contrasted with Yuri’s dark looks, and even Sam couldn’t deny they made an attractive pair. Michael had a sharp sense of humor too, laughing and telling horrible boss stories that rivaled Rachel’s best. Alex, the quietest of the group, smiled indulgently at her girlfriend and her friends, twirling a strand of her white-blonde bob around one finger.
After dinner they decided to stop at the bar. Sam hung back with Rachel and Alex and let the new couple walk ahead. Once in a while, Michael slipped his arm around Yuri or moved in for a brief kiss. It seemed easy, comfortable, and Sam wondered if it would ever have been like that between him and Yuri if they’d made a go of it.
“He’s nice, isn’t he?” Rachel asked, giving Sam a meaningful look.
“Yeah, yeah. He’s nice. I like him.”
“Good. Now make sure you tell Yuri that.” She nudged his shoulder.
“Okay, Mom, jeez. The two of you are ganging up on me like I’m some sort of a delinquent, lately.”
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