The Old Fashioned - Wallbanger 2

by George, G. R. ; George, Renee;

  Jay looked at his ex.

  Jack flashed a smile, seemingly unaware that Jay’s heart broke for the second time in his life. Instead of comforting words, something that would make Jay feel better, Jack simply said, “I could eat.”

  Chapter 4

  I’m Really Not

  Harvey pulled into his parking space at the hospital. He hated Jack Wells with every cell in his body. Hated him. The way the young man kept touching Jay’s hand had almost took the civility right out of Harvey. He looked around the parking lot to make certain no one was near then banged on his steering wheel and console. “Fuck,” he shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  He still didn’t know what the hell had happened at the bar. One minute he was there for the support and the next…The look on Jay’s face when Harvey had said they were “good friends” floored him, but what had Jay wanted him to say? Of course they were more than friends, but he hadn’t wanted to scare Jay off by putting pressure on him. Jay had told him that he’d never had a serious boyfriend except for Jack.

  Harvey hit the steering wheel again. “Fuck!”

  Jack might be a recovering alcoholic, but he certainly hadn’t lost his looks. And Harvey hadn’t missed the way Jay had looked at Jack. Jay’s ex was handsome, more handsome than Harvey liked. But it had been Jay’s track record after Jack that made Harvey reluctant to fully commit to him, or at least it had made him reluctant to make the first move. He’d been really happy when Jay had started leaving his toothbrush, but it wasn’t a substantial commitment. After all, a new toothbrush was only a couple of bucks at any convenience store.

  Why had he left? He mentally kicked himself for letting his embarrassment get the better of him. Grown men didn’t play games. He got out of his car, determined to see patients even if he had the day off. It would be nice to worry about other people’s problems for the next couple of hours.

  After he stopped at his locker to grab his lab jacket and stethoscope, he made his way to the surgical floor where Ricky McNeil, one of his residents and one of Jay’s cooks, sat behind the nurse’s desk pouring over charts. He cleared his throat, “Dr. McNeil.”

  Ricky jerked his head up, his messy, brown hair falling over his eyes. The boy would turn into a fine doctor one day, but Harvey was old school, and wished he’d get a haircut and a shave. He’d seen the scars peeking behind Ricky’s beard, so he supposed the young man had his reasons for looking like he belonged in a grunge band and not a hospital.

  “Dr. Grace.” Ricky stood and nervously shuffled his feet. “I thought you were off today.”

  “Do my patients get to take a day off, Dr. McNeil?”

  “No, sir,” Ricky replied.

  Harvey couldn’t keep the edge of anger out of his voice. “Then neither will I.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ricky gathered charts. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Mrs. Nance’s hip replacement.”

  Ricky pulled a chart to the top. “Got her.”

  As they walked down the hallway, Harvey asked as nonchalantly as he could, “Are you still seeing that young man, what’s his name, Alan?

  “Alex,” Ricky replied. “Yes. I still see him.”

  “How’s it going? I mean, between the two of you.” Harvey shook his head, internally berating himself for asking. His intern’s personal life was none of his business. “I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you about your private life.”

  “It’s okay. We get along mostly.” Ricky laughed. “Even though we have nothing in common.”

  “Does that cause you problems?”

  “Not usually.” Ricky stopped in front of room 408, Mrs.’s Nance’s recovery suite. “He wants me to go with him to his parents for the Fourth. I guess they had some big party every year with massive fireworks.”

  “Are you going?”

  Ricky shook his head, his green eyes glittering under the fluorescent lights. “I don’t know. It seems like a lot. Meeting the parents and all. What do you think I should do?”

  “I’m the last person to give advice on how to handle your private life.” Harvey couldn’t even handle his own.

  Ricky put his hand on Harvey’s arm, his sleeve raising enough for Harvey to see some of his tattoos peek out. “Dr. Grace, are you all right?

  “You know,” Harvey said as he knocked on 408. “I’m really not.”

  Chapter 5

  I Still Do

  Jack Wells leaned across the table. His chocolate brown eyes held the same flirtatious glint that had drawn Jay to him all those years ago. It was still half an hour until The Other Team opened for business, so it was just the two of them in the main area with only the occasional walkthrough by Chris, who seemed determined to give Jay’s trouble wide berth.

  “Your friend seems nice,” Jack said.

  “Chris is my employee,” Jay said. “Not my friend.”

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “I meant the guy who came in with you.”

  “Harvey.” Jay’s chest squeezed. He glanced at his cell phone, willing it to buzz. “He is nice.”

  “Are you guys…” Jack let the question hang.

  “Something like that.” Talking about his complicated love life with his one and only complicated ex-boyfriend was not going to happen. “Why are you here, Jack?”

  “I told you—”

  Jay cut him off. “I know what you told me, but you could have sent a letter or an email. You didn’t have to come all the way from…”

  “Newsome,” Jack filled in.

  Their hometown? The place Jack had said he had to get away from, or at least it had been part of the excuse he had for leaving Jay behind. The memory brought back a new dose of old pain. “How long?”

  Jack rubbed his chin and tapped his lower lip. “Five years now.”

  “Seriously?” He clenched the muscles in his jaw. Five fucking years! “You said you hated Newsome.”

  “I know what I said, Julian—”

  “Jay,” he said sharply.

  Jack flinched. “Jay.” He reclined against the cushioned backrest and covered his eyes for a second with his forearm. After a brief silence, he leaned forward again. “I know what I said.” He crossed his hands on the table, avoiding Jay’s direct gaze. “It wasn’t the town I couldn’t handle.” Now, he pointedly looked at Jay. “I’m sorry for that the most.”

  “Me.” Jay felt the word leave his mouth like a ghosted memory. His heart broke all over again. “You couldn’t handle being with me.”

  Jack shook his head. “That wasn’t all of it.”

  Jay groaned. He’d given that speech more than once. “Don’t.”

  Jack’s handsome face tightened with frustration, causing the fine lines around his eyes to deepen. “This is coming out all wrong.”

  “It started wrong.” Jay wished it would end. He looked at his watch. “How much longer is this amends business going to take?”

  “It was always so easy for you,” Jack said, irritation creeping into his voice.

  “What does that have to do with you telling me it was over, that you hated the town, and didn’t want to be saddled with relationship while you were at college?” Jay clenched his fist. “I was the only other gay fish in a very small pond. You broke up with me so you could play the field in a well-stocked lake.”

  “That’s not true,” Jack denied. His warm gaze narrowed on to Jay. “You were everything to me. Everything. I loved you.”

  “Jesus,” Jay said. He threw his hands up. “Will you fucking listen to yourself? You don’t even know what love means.”

  Jack winced. “I deserve that. But it doesn’t stop what I’m saying from being the truth. I loved you.” He shrugged. “I still do.”

  “What?” The air whooshed from Jay’s lungs from the emotional blow.

  “I still love you. I’ve never been able to get you out of my mind. Out of my heart.”

  “Stop it. Stop talking.”

  “I think that’s why I drank. I used it as a way to try and get past you.”<
br />
  “You’re fucking kidding, right?” Jay asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his tone. “So, I’m to blame for your alcoholism?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Jack’s hands balled into fists. “Why do you have to make everything so goddamn difficult?”

  Jack’s words were an icy slap in the face. Jay grabbed his phone, scooted from the booth, and stood up. His shoulders rounded with tension, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. “You need to leave.”

  Jack stood up in front of him. “Julian—”

  “You need to fucking leave,” Jay said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

  Jack threw his hands up. “I’m going. Just think about what I’ve said. I’d like to talk more. I have a lot I want to say.”

  “You don’t have anything I want to hear.” Jay stalked across the room to the door behind the bar that led to his office, cussing when a low box in the storage area banged his shin.

  He let the door of his office close behind him and flopped on to the brown leather couch setting against the far wall. His phone buzzed. It was a single text from an unknown number.

  A short message. I’m sorry. Jack.

  Jay choked back a sob. He hated crying. It was stupid and unproductive. Fuck! Right now, all he wanted to be was stupid and unproductive. He didn’t know how to feel about Jack showing up. Mostly, he felt scared. Scared because he still cared about the idiot, and even more scared he would lose Harvey.

  Chapter 6

  Goodbye

  After rounds, Harvey took himself home. It had been hours since he’d left Jay, and he hadn’t heard from him. Not one text or phone call. He lived in a large three-bedroom home. He’d purchased it a year after he’d broken it off with Mark. It had been a symbol of freedom—independence. By owning his home, he owned his life. It would belong to him and no one else. He’d hired a decorator to make it cozy and warm. In all that time, it had never bothered Harvey to be alone. Hell, after some workdays he needed the solitude badly. But now, as he sat on his leather couch in his large living room, the emptiness overwhelmed him.

  He stared at his cell phone willing it to ring, to beep, to do something—anything that would let him know that Jay still wanted to see him. Why had he interrupted Jay when Jay tried to introduce him? Jay’s hesitancy had made Harvey uncomfortable. The hurt and anger in Jay’s eyes when Harvey had said, “Good friends,” had turned uncomfortable into unbearable. He’d put his foot in his mouth, but he still wasn’t sure how or why. Or why Jay hadn’t asked him to stay. Or why Jay hadn’t called.

  He looked down at his cell again. “Ring damn it,” he demanded, and jumped when it actually went off.

  Don’t you forget about me. Don’t you walk on by.

  Harvey sighed. It was Mark. Mark. Since the night he’d met Jay, Harvey found it harder and harder to be friends with Mark. Besides, he could tell it bugged Jay that he still saw Mark, even if it was mostly at work. He let the ringtone play out until Mark was sent to voicemail.

  A minute later, his text dinged. He opened to a message from Mark: Wanna work out? 24 Fit. Heading out now.

  Another minute later, Harvey changed clothes and grabbed his gym bag.

  * * * *

  The weight machines clanked out of unison in a chaotic beat. The gym smelled like ozone and lemony antibacterial wipes they used to clean the equipment. After putting his bag in the locker room, Harvey searched for Mark—too focused to even admire the half-naked gym rats grunting as they pounded out their routines. It didn’t take long to find him working his quads.

  Mark, drenched in sweat, groaned as he pushed out another round on the leg press. After ten repetitions, he dropped his feet off the press, and noticed Harvey. His face lit up with a welcoming grin. Harvey waved, but had to force a smile to his lips. Their relationship, outside of being lovers, had always been easy. It had been one of the reasons Mark had been so hard to give up. But for months, he’d had to force himself to be genial around his ex.

  “Hey, Harv,” Mark said. He turned sideways on the leg press and used a small towel to wipe the sweat from his glistening forehead. The tight blue tank top he wore hugged every cut of his defined muscular chest. Mark’s broad shoulders and developed arms were even bigger than Harvey’s. At forty-two, Mark had a body even the youngest men at the gym envied.

  Harvey sat down to the curl bench and sagged forward on the lean. “Hey.”

  Mark adjusted the weight for him. “Forty pounds?”

  “Sure.” At home he’d been lonely, but now, in this crowded gym with Mark, he felt even more isolated. They worked out for a solid hour without any conversation. Harvey, drenched in sweat, ended his work-out on the bench press. He finished his final lift, muscles completely fatigued, with a loud bellow. Weight lifting usually helped him clear his head. It was a way to keep his body busy while he focused his thoughts. Unfortunately, his emotions were still a tangled mess over Jay. How could he fix whatever had happened between them when he didn’t know why or how it got broken? He sat up—more frustrated than before he’d started—drank some water and wiped his forehead with a towel.

  “You all right?” Mark put his hands on Harvey’s shoulders and began to knead his tense muscles. “Man, you’re in knots.”

  Harvey closed his eyes as Mark’s skillful fingers did their magic. He’d always had a deft touch. “Rough morning.”

  “Things with you and lover boy okay?”

  “Jesus, Mark.” Harvey pulled away from him. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” Whatever happened between him and Jay was none of Mark’s damn business.

  Mark maneuvered until he was in front of Harvey. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a shit friend. Hell, I’ve been a shit human being.”

  “Truth,” Harvey muttered, unable to placate Mark with the normal assurances.

  Mark ignored the response. “I miss you, man.” He knelt down by the curl bench and put his hand on Harvey’s thigh. “I know we’ll never get back what we had, we’ll never be lovers again, and I know it’s mostly my fault, but I really want my best friend back.”

  “Mostly?” Harvey turned and looked at Mark. His dark hair, perfectly coiffed, and his chiseled jawline, along with his muscular body, reminded Harvey of Gerard Butler in 300. Minus the beard, of course.

  Mark had been a complete shit when they’d been together—sometimes he still acted like Harvey was a possession—his possession—to play with. His complete domination in their relationship had driven Harvey not just to leave, but to run away.

  Mark diverted his gaze to the floor. “I haven’t had a drink since that…night. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me.”

  An ache filled Harvey as he looked upon Mark with new pity. So much of the past decade had centered around Mark and his minefield of “feelings.” Harvey had tip-toed around him so often, always worried he’d trigger some kind of blow-up in Mark, until he’d nearly perfected the dance of avoidance.

  A sudden realization struck Harvey, and his stomach dropped. “I have to go.”

  “You just got here.”

  “I know,” Harvey said. He placed his hand on Mark’s arm. “I forgive you, Mark. I forgive you for everything.” He stood up. “Even so, I can’t be your friend. Not anymore.”

  “Because of the bartender?”

  “No, Mark.” He looked at Mark with pity. “Not because of Jay.”

  Mark grabbed Harvey’s hand before he could walk away. “Why? Why now?”

  Harvey shook his head. “Our friendship died a long time ago,” he said, unable to keep the sadness from his voice. “We just never gave it a proper burial.” He put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Goodbye.”

  Mark didn’t chase after him, didn’t plead for him to come back. Maybe Mark had managed to grow up some. After Harvey got his bag from the locker, he took out his cell phone and promptly deleted Mark’s number from his contacts. The gesture was more symbolic of the ending than a true end since Mark had his number, but maybe his ex woul
d do the same. It didn’t matter anymore. Harvey knew what he needed to do now. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 7

  The Lucky One

  Todd Nelson came in for his afternoon shift. The young bartender had dark circles under his blue eyes and the expression of a troubled man. Jay had noticed Todd working more shifts without Tucker Thompson, his roommate and boyfriend. They had both worked for Jay for a little over a year. Neither one of them ever turned down a shift and they were hard workers. A couple of months ago, they’d started dating. At first, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Jay had warned them more than once about PDA in the bar, but lately it hadn’t been a problem.

  Tough break for them.

  They’d been in foster care together, shared an apartment, and worked at the same place—they were close, too close. Maybe that was the problem.

  “Hey, boss,” Todd said

  “Todd.” He and Todd had fucked around in the past, but it had been a no strings attached arrangement. After Tucker, Jay had seen a huge change in Todd’s “fuck anything with a dick” attitude. They seemed really good as a couple, and he wondered where Todd and Tuck’s relationship had snagged. Maybe it might give him some insight into why the hell Harvey hadn’t called him yet.

  “You all right?” he asked Todd.

  “Fine.” The blond settled in behind the bar.

  “You look tired,” Jay prodded.

  “I am tired,” Todd said, giving nothing away.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Todd shook his head and gaped at Jay. “Why the hell does everyone feel the fucking need to talk about everything? Christ. It’s as if there something wrong with you if you want to keep your private shit to yourself.”

  Jay raised his brow. “You don’t have to talk about anything with me that’s not work related, but I’m your boss, and you do have to treat me with respect.”

  Todd scratched his head, and this close, Jay could see his eyes were red rimmed. “Sorry, Jay.”