“Yeah, that’s over.”
“Ah.”
Eric grimaced. “Don’t ‘ah’ me. It was never serious.”
Paul snorted. “Right, that gutted look is just for fun.”
“I’ve got work to do, so if you could just let yourself out …”
Paul stood up, but he didn’t leave quietly. “Look, I understand if you don’t want to talk about what happened with Dr. Rollins. But I have to say, I’m sorry to hear it didn’t work out. You seemed happy.”
Eric stared at his computer screen, blinking as the words blurred. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
***
In the weeks after he and Eric agreed they had no future, Casper was restless. A useless energy thrummed through his body to the point he lost sleep over it. None of his usual habits of seeking a quick jolt of adrenaline appealed. It had once been a way for him to feel closer to Kage, but now it just made him feel more distant from Eric. It made him want the man beside him, as he’d been when they went bungee jumping, rock wall climbing and jumping into lakes.
Instead, Casper hit the gym, lifting weights until his muscles turned to water. He worked out until the personal trainer there cut him off, telling him he was going to hurt himself. He started running every evening in the hopes of wearing himself out.
It sort of worked, but when he did sleep, his dreams were vivid and bizarre.
One night, he dreamt that he had a bronze locket in his pocket. It had a heart, with a clock face in it, similar to a pocket watch, but when he flipped it open it held two pictures. One side showed Kage, the other Eric. Kage was laughing, full of life in his image. Eric looked gray and still, his eyes blank, and Casper’s dream-self was certain he was dead. The dream jumped around, but at some point Casper lost the locket. He searched desperately, thinking that if he could find it, he could save Eric.
The dream was ridiculously obvious in its symbolism. Apparently his subconscious wasn’t subtle. He’d lost Eric, just as he’d lost the locket, just as he’d lost Kage. It was all tied together in a mass of anxiety that kept him on edge.
In another dream, he was lost. He kept driving in circles, in a cul-de-sac that went nowhere, and all around him people were talking, kissing, eating dinner, and he was just circling. Another stupid metaphor about letting life pass him by, or circling in one place, not growing. He wasn’t a dream analyst, but he got the picture. He’d screwed up. He’d let himself care about Eric more than he’d intended, and the breakup hurt. It felt like unfinished business. They hadn’t even really had a fight, so much as a … realization.
He filled his evenings however he could, and when he got a text about a pick-up basketball game he sometimes joined, he went, eager to fill the empty hours.
Twenty minutes into the game, he was breathing hard, sweating and loving every second. Finally, his head was clear.
Ian threw him the ball hard. Casper caught it with a smack, palms burning from the impact.
“Ouch,” he said mildly.
“Sorry,” Ian called sheepishly, but Casper didn’t wait around to listen to his teammate’s apology. Ian had been penned down by guards. He wasn’t the tallest guy on their three-man team, but he was a great shot. Casper dribbled toward the basket, doing some fast footwork to outpace the guys who wanted to stop him. He was not the greatest shot, so he needed to get close enough for a layup. He was famous for his layups.
The three-on-three basketball games were set up via a bulletin board in a staff locker room at the hospital. All the guys worked there or knew someone who did: Ian was an orderly; Callum worked in the lab; Ridley was an X-ray technician. Casper was the only doctor in the bunch, but the two other guys were dating or married to doctors: Zane, who was about ten years younger than everyone and twice as fast; and Avery, who was none of those things but was very nice.
“Cut him off, Z!” Callum shouted. That was about all Callum was good for on his team, but he was enthusiastic.
Casper darted around Ridley and picked up speed as he neared the basket. He went up for the layup, jerking to the left as Zane appeared out of nowhere to block him.
The ball went in, and Casper was grinning as cheers went up — and he came down. He landed on his ankle wrong. He felt it twist, pain flared, and then he was on his ass.
He clutched his leg, cursing a blue streak. A steady throb of pain had set up shop and didn’t look to be leaving anytime soon.
“Sorry, man,” Zane said, crouching beside him. “Is it sprained?”
Casper spoke from clenched teeth. “Don’t know. Probably.”
Ridley arrived on the scene, and the other guys gathered around. “You should go get an X-ray. We get a lot of sports injuries,” he said. “Lots of broken bones people thought were sprains. Sometimes they try to limp along until they figure out it’s not getting better.”
“Aren’t you just a tech? How do you know that?” Avery asked.
Just a tech. Ouch. Avery wasn’t the most sensitive guy about medical professions outside of the operating room. He gave Casper a modicum more respect because he was a doctor, but Avery also regarded a “baby doctor” as a “catch-and-release” guy, so not too much more respect.
Ridley didn’t take offense — or didn’t show it anyway.
“Patients talk. Doctors too. I hear things.”
“How about we focus on the guy on the ground?” Ian suggested.
Casper lifted his hands and studied his ankle. He was the doctor after all. He carefully rotated his foot, cursing again as fresh pain shot through his leg. “Not broken,” he gasped, “unless it’s a hairline. Sprained, though.”
“Come on,” Zane said, pulling an arm over his shoulder. “Ian, get his other side.”
Ian supported his other side, and the two hefted him up onto his good foot. “I’ll take him in my car,” Zane told Ian. “I was going to swing by the ER for Paul’s break anyway.” Zane flashed Casper a grin. “You can meet my boyfriend. It’ll be fun.”
“Fun,” Casper said, and his voice sounded weak even to him. “You know me. I’m all about fun.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Zane was nice enough to wait with him in the exam room. Casper stretched out on the exam table, trying to ignore the throbbing beat in his ankle while Zane fidgeted in a plastic chair.
“So, your boyfriend is an ER physician. Didn’t realize that. Don’t think we’ve crossed paths,” Casper said, more to distract himself from his pain than because he cared about Zane’s personal life. They’d played a few games of basketball, but beyond that, they were strangers.
Zane tapped his fingers restlessly on his knee. “Yep. Spends more time here than at home.” He laughed, but there was an edge that made Casper think this was a sore subject.
“Ah, one of those doctors.”
“He loves it.”
“They’re a special breed. I’ve recently been detoxing a workaholic.” He smiled fondly before it turned into another grimace.
“What? Are you in more pain?”
“I’ll be okay.”
He was in more pain, but not the physical kind. He didn’t know how to define the feelings swamping him. Regret, he recognized. He regretted not being more open with Eric from the beginning. But the other emotions overwhelming him? They were unfamiliar. His chest felt too tight, making it hard to breathe. That itchy, restless feeling came back with force. Like his skin was too tight to contain him and his chaotic thoughts.
“I’m so stupid,” Casper muttered to himself.
“Girl trouble?”
He quirked a smile at Zane. He was perceptive. “Guy trouble.”
“Ah. Couldn’t get a read on you. You’re pretty ...”
He trailed off, and Casper wiggled his brows and pretended to toss his hair. “Thanks.”
Zane laughed. “No, not pretty. Pretty macho, I guess? You’ve got some sort of jock vibe.”
“Ouch, not the jock vibe,” he said in mock horror. He glanced at Zane, a good-looking, athletic guy himsel
f. “I’d say you have the same vibe.”
Zane shrugged. “I like sports, mostly so I can run out my restless energy.”
That sounded familiar. Maybe he and Zane were more alike than he realized. He wished sports would take care of his restless energy. He needed an adrenaline rush or great sex for the same results.
“I’m bi, so—”
The curtain rattled as it was pulled aside, and Casper trailed off as a doctor stepped in. He was tall and slim, with wire-framed glasses and an air of competence that Casper could appreciate even before he said a word.
The doctor’s gaze went from Zane to Casper. They both wore basketball shorts and tank tops. “I take it things went awry at the basketball court tonight.”
“Sprained my ankle,” Casper said.
The pain regained strength now that it became the subject of conversation.
“Oh! Let me make introductions. I suck at this,” Zane said. “This is my boyfriend, Dr. Paul Johnston,” he said, and then waved his hand toward Casper. “And this is the guy I took down on the basketball court. Sadly, great talent comes with great responsibility. He landed on his ankle hard.”
Casper was a little surprised the doctor in question was Zane’s boyfriend. The age gap was significant. Paul wasn’t a bad-looking guy, though he wasn’t Casper’s type. He looked more like an intellectual, sophisticated man. Like Perry, Casper’s mind supplied uneasily. This man could easily be Eric’s type.
“Sorry to meet you in these circumstances. How about I take a look,” Paul said.
He set about pressing two fingers to Casper’s ankle and carefully moving it. Casper hissed through his teeth, attempting to tough it out.
“Fuck, it hurts. It’s not broken, I don’t think.”
Paul finished his torture and stepped back. “Definitely a sprain. There’s already swelling. I’d advise an X-ray to be sure, but either way, you need to keep off that foot for a few days.”
“He’s a doctor,” Zane said. “So, I’m sure he knows the drill.”
Paul drew up short and gazed from Zane to Casper. “I didn’t realize.”
“Not that it’s my area of expertise,” Casper said.
Paul nodded. “I didn’t catch your name?”
Casper belatedly held out a hand, and they shook. “Dr. Casper Rollins. I’m usually on the maternity ward, so we don’t have much cause to cross paths.”
Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re Casper Rollins.” His eyes scanned Casper with more interest. “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or irritated with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m good friends with Eric Holtz.”
Casper’s heart leapt when he heard Eric’s name. Then the expression on Paul’s face registered, and his heart plunged to the pit of the stomach. “How is he?”
Paul shook his head. “He’s up in his office right now trying to work you out of his system.”
Casper cringed. “I didn’t mean for things to go down like this.”
“I don’t know details,” Paul said. “Eric didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask. All I know is, he was happier than I’d seen him in years. Maybe ever. His husband never made him smile like that. Now, he’s a wreck. If you thought he worked a lot before …”
“Ease up,” Zane said. “Look at Casper’s face. It’s obviously not a one-way street.”
“Sorry,” Paul said stiffly. “I know it’s not my place to interfere.”
“It’s okay.” Casper swallowed, replaying Paul’s words through his mind. “What did you mean, you didn’t know whether to be irritated or relieved?”
For some strange reason, Paul looked guilty. “Nothing.”
“Something,” Zane said, staring at his boyfriend. “Spill it.”
“I was being silly—”
“That’s a given,” Zane said, not giving him any leeway. It was funny to see how Zane put his much older, very successful boyfriend in his place. Paul chuckled nervously.
“Fine. Look, I heard you tell Zane you were bi before I walked in, and I didn’t see why you’d be talking about that unless …”
“I was interested in him?”
“Paul,” Zane said with a groan.
“I know, you don’t have to say it,” Paul said. “I was being stupid and paranoid.”
Casper cast Zane a look. “He is cute,” he admitted.
Zane flipped off Casper as he laughed.
“I’ll just get that X-ray set up,” Paul said, hastily leaving. A moment later, Zane excused himself to follow. Casper had no doubt they were having a fascinating discussion about trust and jealousy right about then.
Despite his initial surprise, they made a cute couple. He liked their dynamics, and not only because Zane bossed his doctor around. Their love showed in their words and gestures, in their very body language.
For a moment, Casper wished he had that. And it wasn’t Kage who first came to mind, but Eric. If he closed his eyes, he could see that for them. A relationship, a future. When he tried to replace the image with Kage, it wouldn’t come. Kage was his past, his first love, but he couldn’t have a future with him. It was so far from a possibility that he couldn’t even imagine it.
***
Eric stood just outside the curtain, looking in through the gap. Casper sat on the exam table, leaning against the wall with his long legs stretched out on the table. His right ankle was sporting a support wrap, and a nurse stood over him with a sheaf of papers, going over his after-care. It was routine: stay off the ankle, ice it a few times a day, keep it elevated.
Casper attempted to interrupt her. “I’m a doctor, so I—”
“That’s nice,” she said, before resuming reading her instructions. Eric took pity, pushing the curtain aside and stepping forward. “I’ll take it from here, Alex,” he said.
She frowned, annoyed at the interruption. But even Alex was smart enough not to argue with the medical director. She handed him the discharge papers as she left.
Eric had been up in his office, putting together a budget proposal the CEO would absolutely reject when Paul sent him a text to let him know Casper was in the emergency room. Eric had tried to ignore that text, but he couldn’t resist coming down to see what had happened.
“All those thrilling adventures, and you’re brought low by basketball,” he said.
Casper laughed, though it was tinged with pain. “Yeah. Guess I’m lucky my bad luck came on a basketball court and not in the sky.”
Eric glanced through the papers for something to do. Cleared his throat. “Do you have a way home?”
Casper opened his mouth, closed it.
“What is it?” Eric asked.
“I want to lie.”
“Why would you want to lie?”
His blue eyes met Eric’s, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Casper look so vulnerable. “I want you to take me home.”
Eric’s breath hitched at the admission. It was a terrible idea. They’d agreed there was no point in seeing one another. Casper wanted a diversion, and Eric had come to want much more. When he didn’t answer, Casper sighed.
“I have a ride, though, if I need it.”
Eric thought it over. He could do the smart thing, or he could do the thing he wanted. Reassure himself that Casper got home safely. Maybe kiss him one more time. A better goodbye? Or one more wound to worry over later? Either way, he knew he wanted it.
“I’ll take you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eric drove him home, but he didn’t say much. There were thousands of words hanging in the space between them, unsaid. Casper wanted to apologize. He wanted to ask Eric to go back to the way they were, but he didn’t have that right. He’d told Eric he loved Kage, and he didn’t see himself loving again. It wasn’t fair to ask Eric to be his sex partner, but not his life partner. He knew that.
When they pulled into the driveway, Eric cut the engine. “Stay there. I’ll help you out.”
Casper would have to get a pair of crutches, but h
e hadn’t done it tonight. There was a medical supply store if he decided he needed them. Maybe he’d just stay in bed until he could walk again.
Eric rounded the car, opened his door, and pulled Casper’s right arm over his shoulder. Taking most of his weight, he helped Casper hop out of the car and up the sidewalk on his left foot. He realized it was the first time Eric had been to his place. He’d always avoided bringing dates home, one more attempt to keep things casual. It seemed such a silly, ineffective boundary now.
Casper fumbled for his keys, unlocked the door to his small bungalow, and Eric helped him inside.
“Sofa or bed?” Eric asked. He turned his head to look at Casper, and their faces were close enough to kiss. “It’s late.”
Casper didn’t even think about it. “Bed.”
“Where?”
Casper pointed to the other side of the living room, where a doorway led into a short hall to a master bedroom and bathroom. The other rooms were on the other side of the kitchen. Eric helped him hobble to his bedroom and eased him down onto the king-size bed. He might sleep alone, but he enjoyed room to sprawl.
Casper panicked as Eric pulled away. He’d never forgive himself if he got Eric all the way into his bedroom and let him leave without a word.
He grabbed Eric’s forearm and tugged him forward. Eric lost his balance, one hand landing on Casper’s thigh as he tried to keep himself from face-planting in his lap. Eric’s face was shoulder-height, perfect for what Casper wanted. He speared his fingers into Eric’s hair and pulled him into a clumsy kiss.
Eric went very still as Casper kissed his lips, his stubbled jaw. “I miss you,” he murmured.
“Cas …”
“Please,” he said, letting Eric see that he was the needy one. The one begging. He pressed his lips to Eric’s mouth again and to his relief, Eric kissed him back. As soon as Eric gave in, his hands clutched at Casper’s shoulders hard, pushing, and they fell back on the bed in a tangle of limbs.
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