by Ellle Parker
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I said, tipping back half my whiskey in one swallow. “I’ll grab you one of my shirts. You drink some of that, it’ll help.”
When I came out of the bedroom holding a T-shirt for him, he was clutching the glass and wheezing. “How in the hell do you drink this shit, man?”
“You thinkin’ about your pain right now?” I asked.
He shook his head and grinned wryly.
I turned on the hot water, then switched on the radio and got a couple of beers out of the fridge which I gave to Seth to open. I put the stopper in the sink and put a little soap and two clean dishrags in the water. Then I went to the bathroom and came back with my first-aid kit.
“Come here and take your shirt off,” I told him, shutting off the water and swishing the rags around to soak them. I pulled a stool over and pointed to it.
Seth came around the end of the counter, setting his beer down, and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He got it about halfway up before he stopped with a sharp gasp and some vile language. I went to help him take it off, which he seemed to appreciate judging by the expression on his face.
“Are you all right?” I tossed the shirt on the floor by the garbage can.
He arched an eyebrow at me, but didn’t look upset. “Now you ask?”
“I’ve been watching.”
“Yeah, I think I’m okay.”
There was a large bruise starting to darken the left side of his chest, and I ran my fingers along it as gingerly as I could, feeling each rib. He barely made a sound, but when I was done, he reached for his whiskey and drained the rest of it.
“Sorry ’bout that,” I said, “but I don’t think any of them are broken. Cracked maybe. But I’m no expert.”
“Can’t do much about it either way,” Seth wheezed. I took the glass out of his hand before he dropped it.
He sat on the stool, and I wrung out a dishrag to clean him up. When I turned to him, I noticed the blood had soaked through his shirt and was streaked all over his chest. “Stand up,” I said.
“You just told me to sit.”
“Now I’m telling you to stand. You got blood on your chest.”
I handed him the rag and he took a couple of half hearted swipes at himself and thrust it back at me, leaning against the counter. “It hurts too much, you do it.”
“Oh, now you’re just bein’ a baby.”
“Sue me.” He tried to smirk, but it was weak.
I laughed and started to wipe the blood off his chest, while he sipped his beer. His cheeks were flushed pink where they weren’t bruised or bloody, and I thought the whiskey was hitting him. He never took his eyes off me once.
Finally, he spoke. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.” I dipped the rag in the water and squeezed it out again.
“Why in the hell were you carrying your gun?”
I shrugged and thought for a minute, because I wasn’t sure myself. “I don’t know, I just sort of had a feeling that I might need it tonight, I guess. Like I knew something might happen, but I didn’t know what.”
Seth considered that and nodded. “Well, next time you wanna share that feeling with me, please?”
“Now you can sit,” I told him. I spent a few minutes cleaning up his face and sticking a bandage over his cut, for which he was remarkably cooperative, then I held his head steady and felt along his nose with my thumbs.
“Ow,” he said finally, struggling out of my grasp and poking at it himself.
“That’s not broken, either,” I said, picking up my whiskey glass and finishing it. “You’re lucky.”
“Yes, I feel very lucky right now.” He stood up and I helped him put on the clean shirt, then he said, “Your turn.”
“My turn, what? I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding. He put a gash right above your eye. Didn’t you notice?”
“I haven’t been thinking about that.”
He gave me a warm look and said, “Sit.”
I took a seat and let Seth dab at my eye with a fresh rag. He took his time about it, and I wasn’t sure if he was drunk or tired, but it didn’t matter. The slow pace helped me calm down and finally relax. I think maybe he knew that, because he said, “You know, you kind of scared me out there.”
I made a face. “I scared you? What do you mean? You’ve seen me in a fight before. Hell, you’re worse than me when you’ve got your head on straight.”
He paused and cocked his head. “Dino—you just pistol whipped a guy in an alley on my behalf. No, I have never seen you do that before.”
“Well…maybe you’re just not usually lookin’ in the right direction.”
He gazed at me flatly while he peeled open a bandage.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know what got into me. I was just so incredibly pissed off, and I really, really wanted to hurt that guy. It was just… You know, things have actually started to turn out good lately, and I was having a great time, and then this huge schmuck had to come and fuck it all up. I saw you on the floor, and all the blood, and I just…snapped.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Seth said, “I think the guy was totally asking for it. I’ve just never seen you quite that over the top before. Personally, I thought it was hot, but I wanna make sure you’re not flipping out or anything.” He stuck the bandage to my forehead and smoothed it flat with his fingers, still moving in slow motion. I wondered if he was dragging it out on purpose. Another one of his teases, only maybe more serious this time.
“No, I’m not flipping out.” I took a sip of beer. “I just got a little out of control is all. And, ah, you thought that was hot?”
Seth grinned. He touched a finger to my lower lip. “Looks like he got you here too, I think there’s a cut. You should put some ice on it.”
“Seth?”
“Yes, Dino, I thought it was hot. Really, really hot. Like you’re hot when you’re all sweaty in your undershirt, and you’re hot when you dance the tango.” He was still touching my lip.
“Rumba…actually.”
Okay, so I had a bead on what was going on, but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. It’s no real mystery that Seth could be into me, if he wanted. He’s pretty much into anything that seems like it would be a good time, but he’s never once acted genuinely serious about it, so I’ve never brought it up. Besides, I never have figured out what I would say, anyway.
“Whatever it was, dude, you looked good.” He smiled real slow and put his hands on my shoulders, moving closer.
I caught him gently by the arms and said, “Seth, I think the whiskey’s getting to you. You’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“You’ve never honestly hit on me before,” I pointed out. Taking a shot at your best friend is a move you shouldn’t make when you’ve had your bell rung and you’re half in the bag. I didn’t believe he really knew what he was doing.
“Don’t think that hasn’t taken some work, either,” he told me.
“Oh, really,” I said, giving him a look.
“Yeah, really. You find that so hard to buy?”
“Ah, yes, I do, actually.”
Seth snorted. “I’m trying to figure out which one of us you’re selling short.”
“I’m not doing either, I’m just sayin’ you’ve had a hell of a long day, and you’re saying things you don’t really mean.”
He turned serious and said, “Yeah, Dino, I mean what I’m saying.”
I didn’t have a reply to that. I still thought I was right, of course, but he was sure he was right and we were just going to go around in circles on that point. I was about to suggest we call it a night, when he put a hand under my chin and kissed me. He moved slow and careful, like everything else, which I finally realized was one big seduction. He knew damn well what he was doing.
My pulse shot right up, which I took to be panic, and I froze. I could taste beer on his lips, and the coppery scent of blood still lingered under t
he soap. When he backed away looking like the cat who swallowed the canary, I blurted out, “I’m too old for you.”
He laughed. “An eight year age difference is not exactly stretching the bounds of math.”
“You’re too young for me, then.”
“I’m thirty-three years old, Dino. I’m not some horny teenager grasping at straws, here. I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, I know what you are. Not too many people left who don’t.” He narrowed his eyes so I let that drop. “Why now, then?”
“Shit, Dino, I don’t know. Because you’re hot and I like you, because this seems like a good time? Because you almost killed a guy for me tonight?”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t almost kill him. I just gave him a very good reason not to mess with you again.”
“And I’m just sayin’ that’s a hell of a thing.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?” He gave me a shit-eating grin. Then he pressed up against me, standing between my legs so his body brushed my thighs. It felt absurdly intimate, given who he was. My pulse raced again, and this time I knew it wasn’t panic. Damn if he wasn’t getting under my skin.
Seth smirked. “How’s this? I just got my face bashed in because we jerked a guy around by acting like a couple, and I think I should get to do what I got beat up for.”
“Yes, that’s an excellent reason to jump into bed.”
“Dino, shut the hell up.”
His hands were resting lightly on my neck and he slid them up to hold me captive while he kissed me again, longer and more insistent. This time he was not going to take no for an answer. He moaned softly and ran his tongue along my lower lip. His fingers tensed on my skin and he pulled me deeper into it, like he was either going to convince me by sheer will or get his money’s worth while he could.
The whiskey left me warm and mellow, and the heat of his mouth on mine made my head spin, weakening my resolve that this was a bad idea. The rest of me was right on board with Seth, because it had been a long time since I’d had a warm body pressed up against me, and I wrapped my arms around him in spite of myself. There are some urges you just can’t resist, and pulling someone close once they’re in your arms is one of them. It felt good to be holding someone like that again, even if it was one person I knew damn well I shouldn’t.
It also scared the shit out of me, because friends like Seth don’t come along often, and I didn’t want to mess up a good thing. Seth apparently wasn’t worried, because he had one hand cupped around the back of my head and was starting to fumble at my shirt buttons with the other. I knew where that led.
We had to slow things down, and fast. My own lack of a recent date was no excuse for me to abandon reason at just the point when Seth clearly had none at all.
I broke the kiss and said, “Let me try the practical approach with you, then. Have you ever tried doin’ it with banged up ribs?”
He lifted his head to look at me quizzically, and I gave him an extra firm squeeze. He groaned with pain and slumped over my shoulder. “God, you’re an asshole.”
“I’m just tellin’ it like it is, kid. You’re out of commission with me or anyone else for a couple of days at least. You’re also tired, drunk, and in for a lot worse pain than you have now, so I think you should try to get some sleep before it sets in.”
“Here?” he said with a slow smile.
“Sure,” I told him, untangling myself and standing up. “You can crash on my sofa.”
He scowled and backed away from me, snatching up his beer and drinking the rest of it. All the way down the hall, I could feel his glare on my back while I went to get him a pillow and a couple of blankets. I spread them out while he sulked against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. The ice didn’t thaw much when I held out a hand to him, and he came over slowly, broadcasting loud and clear what he thought of this plan.
“Trust me, Seth, if this all has just been the whiskey talkin’, you’ll thank me in the morning.”
“It’s not.”
“Then we’ll talk about that tomorrow.” I nudged him down on the sofa. “Get some sleep, all right?”
“Yeah, all right. Goodnight.”
I put away the whiskey bottle and drained the sink, then snapped off the lights and went down the hall to fall into my own bed, mind reeling and body aching. It felt like a million years since we were sitting in Paradiso eating crab and talking about football. I had to figure out what I thought about it all, because there was no way I could pretend nothing had happened.
I was drifting off when I heard feet padding across the floor outside my bedroom. Seth appeared and climbed into bed, peering down at me. I opened one eye and he said, “You didn’t really think I was going to sleep on the couch, did you?”
“You can stay, but we’re sleeping, got that?”
“Fine by me. I have a splitting headache,” he said, easing down onto his back.
Chapter 8
I woke up the next morning with an immediate awareness that I wasn’t alone. Everything from the night before came back to me in a rush, and I opened my eyes to find Seth sitting up, staring at me.
He blinked at me with a bewildered expression and glanced around at the bed and us in it. “Dino? You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”
For about three seconds, I was gripped by an ice cold chill, then I caught the tiniest flicker of mischief in his eye. I sat bolt upright and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him to within an inch of my face. “Do not yank my chain over this, you hear me?”
He snickered. “You were so askin’ for it, with all your worrying last night.” He leaned forward and kissed me. It was lazy and relaxed, and I was stunned at how easily he could switch gears. He pushed me down on my back and rolled onto me, stretching out gingerly.
I, however, do not adapt so easily, and I was trying to struggle out from under him without hurting his ribs, when Seth caught a look at the clock radio and said, “Shit, is that the time?”
“You in a hurry, here? I think we have a few things we need to go over, don’t you?”
He had already scrambled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. When I turned over and saw the clock, I discovered it was only eight in the morning. “Oh, what the fuck are you doing?” I groaned. I hollered out to him, “It’s Sunday, we don’t need to be getting up at the crack of dawn!”
Seth appeared in the doorway, buttoning up his jeans. “I have a very sick little Chevy in my shop whose owner thinks I actually work during the week instead of chasing you around, and is expecting to be able to get her car tomorrow.” He turned and darted back down the hall.
“What do you mean chasing me around?” I said, throwing back the blankets and getting up. “You spent one day helping me move.”
“And a whole afternoon cleaning out your new office, and the better part of a day doing inventories and paperwork.”
“Hey, I could have taken the ’Vette to Ernie’s and left you to your work, you know. You’re the one who made that call.”
“My point is, I’ve gotta’ make a living. And you need pants because you have to take me home.”
I’d gone into the kitchen while he flailed around getting dressed, and was filling a pot of water. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.”
“Then give me your car keys,” he said, sitting on the arm of my sofa to put his shoes on. He winced and sucked in breath when he bent over to grab them, and came up slowly, clutching his side.
A pang of sympathy gripped me, and I went to the bathroom to get him some ibuprofen. I brought it to him with a glass of water. “You look like hell, you know, and you’re not movin’ too good. How are you gonna work on cars?”
“I’ll be all right. If I pour enough caffeine and pain killers down my throat, I’ll be too wired to know if I hurt.”
“That’s a terrific plan.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been beat up. I can handle it.” He came up t
o me and kissed my neck, cupping the side of my face with his hand. He whispered, “Now give me your keys.”
“Over my dead body.”
I dropped him off at the garage no more than twenty minutes later, in spite of what he tried to say about sloths, the progression of time, and hell freezing over. He was moving pretty slowly himself, but more out of necessity than laziness. I felt sorry for him, so I offered to go get him anything he liked for breakfast. Predictably, he chose doughnuts, but I think he sensed I was feeling guilty because he plastered on an especially pathetic face and requested doughnuts from a bakery which happens to be halfway across St. Pete. It was a nice enough day, and I didn’t have any pressing plans, so I agreed, pathetic face or not.
He gave me a saucy smile and was about to get out when I grabbed his arm. “When are we gonna talk?” I asked.
“Tonight? Your place? I’ll bring some pizza.”
“Yeah, all right,” I said, letting him go. “Take it easy today.”
“You too.” This time his smile was genuine.
I watched him head inside and wondered what in the fuck I’d gotten myself into. See, the thing is, I don’t do flings. I don’t mess around, I don’t have affairs, I don’t usually go out on a date with a person unless they’re someone I think I could get serious about. I just don’t operate that way, because I’m not very casual about my love life. Or my sex life. Those aren’t separate things for me.
Seth is the exact opposite. He runs around, dates more than one person at a time, and has one night stands. He’s always out there having fun. It’s rare that I’ve ever seen him get serious about anyone.
So, I didn’t know what this was to Seth, and I didn’t know what letting myself get dragged into it meant for me. It had huge potential to end badly, which is what bothered me the most. I sighed and ran my hands over my face. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I realized it also had the potential to turn out pretty good, and I think maybe that worried me too.
With these happy thoughts in mind, I set off, first to get coffee, then to fetch Seth’s doughnuts.
I’d gotten maybe two blocks from Ed’s when my cellphone rang. It was Seth.