I tapped my back pocket, but I’d left the phone in my bag. I practically flew to the ground and scanned the message, all the while repeating the words in my head, “Please don’t be mad about yesterday.”
It’s okay. Grandpa had a bad day yesterday.
Whew! He wasn’t angry. At least I didn’t think so. But he and Mr. Jenson were having a hard time. I downed tools. It was almost one o’clock so I took Floyd inside and told Gran I’d get her a burger and be back later.
As I waited in the drive-through line at the local fast food place, I drummed my fingers on the wheel while the people in the car in front couldn’t decide what to order. It's a burger place, guys. How hard can it be?
After giving Gran her food, I raced over the road and knocked. There was a car out front that seemed familiar but I couldn’t recall where I’d seen it before. When no one answered, I shouted, “Food Delivery.”
Keith poked his head out the window. Exhaustion surrounded him, much like a dark rain cloud. “Hi,” he said, his voice as broken as the expression on his face.
“Hey. Thought you and your grandpa might be hungry.”
The door opened, and I dropped the bag of food and outstretched my arms. Even if this man told me he never wanted to see me again, he was my friend and needed support.
“Oh, Ethan,” he blubbered as he fell into my embrace and tears flowed. I held him as his body trembled and the loud shuddering sobs finally quietened.
Sam appeared and said, “Keith, we need to talk.”
Shit. This doesn’t sound good.
Keith wiped his tear-stained face on my shirt. It was a simple act and yet so intimate, but right now, he needed support, not me planning a life together.
“Okay.” His wavering voice tugged at my heart. I wanted to pull us under a blanket and hide away from the world.
“Your grandfather’s recovery isn’t progressing as it should. The antibiotics aren’t quite doing what they need to and his mobility is less than it was.”
“So, what are you saying?” Keith sniffed, and I grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the fast food place and handed them to him.
“I think he needs to go to rehab or a short stay at the hospital at the very least. I’m not sure which, but my guess is rehab.”
That wasn’t as bad as what I was expecting.
“But I can’t stay with him there, and he won’t know anyone. And a lot of old people go into those places and never come home.” Keith’s face crumpled, and I squeezed his hand. “And the rehab place is in the next town, an hour away.”
“I get it,” Sam agreed. “You’re concerned that by treating him physically, he’ll go downhill mentally and emotionally. But I think this is best, otherwise, he may not walk again.”
“Right.” His disembodied voice had me worried he wasn’t capable of making a decision. “I’ll call the doctor and see what she thinks.”
The nurse grabbed her bag. “He’s sleeping, but when he wakes, you might want to discuss it with him.”
I waved Sam off while Keith checked on his grandfather. When he came back, he collapsed onto the sofa, and I put an arm around his shoulders. “I can drive you to the rehab facility every day if you want.”
“I can’t ask you to do that with your writing and building the patio.”
“I’m serious. The offer’s there. No strings attached, just one friend helping another out,” I told him.
“Is that what we are?” he sniffed. “Friends?”
“I hope so.” I lifted his chin so those gorgeous blue eyes were looking right at me. “Having sex with you was beyond amazing, and I’d love to do it again. And again. And again.”
That got a smile out of him.
“And not just sex. I’d like you in my life, but let’s put that on the back burner while you deal with your grandpa.”
“Thank you.”
I gave him a peck on the forehead, and he screwed up his face. “That’s a kiss you get from a great aunt or a neighbor who’s known you since kindergarten.” He tapped his lips.
As I placed my mouth on his, I savored his warmth, his softness and that delicious Keith taste...my phone beeped. I ignored it while inhaling his aroma that still reminded me of wildflowers. There was a hint of coffee on his breath as I nibbled on his lower lip and ran my tongue around his mouth.
Another ding.
“You’d better get that,” Keith said as he pulled away. “It might be Floyd.” We both peered at the screen as I read Gran’s two messages.
Take this bird home.
He just spoiled a movie. Told me how it ended.
We both giggled. I got the food, and Keith rested his head on my shoulder as he nibbled on a handful of fries. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”
118
Keith
Ethan stayed with me on the couch, letting me sleep on his shoulder, never pushing for me to be good company, to move so his shoulder didn’t fall asleep, to get naked. He just was. And it was exactly what I needed.
And when Grandpa called out in pain after waking from a dream, one he refused to share with us, he was right there helping him—helping me. He was so much more than I ever could’ve asked for. So much. And he was somehow mine.
When I finally kicked him out, knowing he needed his sleep and a break from all the caregiver chaos, he simply kissed my cheek and held me tight, letting me know he was but a phone call away if I needed. And there were a couple of times through the night where I almost took him up on his offer, times when Grandpa needed more than I could give and I didn’t know if I should call the ambulance or not, times when I just wanted to cry and know I was not alone in this, times when I just wanted to hear his voice.
But I didn’t call. Grandpa had been there for me. I would be there for him. I could do this. I could be strong like him.
The next morning Sam came back with a stack of folders—all places that had room from Grandpa. She really went above and beyond. I owed her so much—we both did.
One folder was from the place I already assumed he was going, but there were others, so many others. She went over everything she knew about each of them, from the good to the ugly, and we whittled it down to two to present to Grandpa.
“Grandpa,” I knocked on his door frame. “We need to talk.”
“I know—I heard. I may be old but my ears are like that of a twenty-year-old.” Whatever that meant. “I need to go to rehab. I don’t want to, but I have to.”
I pulled up the chair I kept in his room and sat by his side. “It’s only for a short time, Grandpa. They need to get you back walking and prevent you from losing all you accomplished because of the stupid infection. And I can’t stay there, but I can be there so often they start giving me a paycheck.”
“I’m not thinking that’s the best plan.” He placed his hand on mine. “I want you to go home—no, no, hear me out. I love having you here.”
“And I love being here.” And I did. It was hard with work, but if I could work here it would be a no brainer. Maybe I needed to consider a change of careers. It wasn’t like I was ancient. I could start anew. Except you love your job. And then there was that.
“Your life is in the city doing what you love.” He squeezed my hand. “And besides, this way you can come back when I come home and need you again.”
What I didn’t say was, “People never come back. It becomes their new home.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I held up the two folders. “Both have room for you.”
“The closest one.” Done.
“You don’t want to see what they have to offer?”
“Nope. I want to be as close to this place as I can. When do I leave?”
“I need to work things out with Sam, and I’ll let you know. Want me to turn on Shifter World on your tablet?” I didn’t mention the part about him needing to stay still because Sam was about to give him his IV. The entire process fascinated me. No poles, no bags, just a little container that looked like a baby bottle and
worked by pressure.
“I’d like that.”
The next three hours were spent arranging everything with the rehab. They even sent someone to the house to help with the paperwork. By midafternoon we were driving to his new temporary home.
They greeted us with warm smiles and treated Grandpa like he was royalty. He loved that part. They took him on a tour, showing him the schedule of activities, and shared with him the week’s menu. It was freaking summer camp for people recovering from accidents and illnesses. It was nothing like what I’d expected.
I had to admit, I was impressed. It was a beautiful facility. The grounds were covered in gardens and walking paths, the front lobby had the largest fish tank I’d seen outside of an aquarium, and the rooms were all private.
By the time I left him, he was happy and settled. It was late, too late to call Ethan by the time I got home and packed. Instead, I sent him some pictures of Grandpa all happy in his room and told him I was heading to bed.
I wasn’t looking forward to telling him I was leaving. Shit, I wasn't looking forward to leaving. But it wasn’t forever. I’d be back when Grandpa came home. Not forever, but back. And maybe we could figure out something then.
Or not. They had to have a tailor in town, right?
Maybe this ache in my heart that had just sprouted would grow into a vine and suffocate my happiness.
I was such a freaking drama king. Ugh.
I looked at my phone, the pictures still not delivered, and just slid it into my pocket. They’d get to him when he woke up and that would be good enough. I still had a thousand things to do before my head hit the pillow, the list growing by the second as new things came to mind.
I started with scouring the kitchen. He wouldn’t want to come home to any dirty dishes, and the things in the fridge that were going to go bad might as well go now, too. And that led to me seeing the kitchen floor could use a scrubbing. Which led to me thinking about the bathroom floor. And by the time I fell into bed well past midnight, the house was shiny and my body so exhausted that I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
119
Ethan
A loud knock at the door pulled me out of the fantasy world I was inhabiting while typing a new scene.
“Get laid!” yelled Floyd.
“Not now,” I told him.
It was Keith. “This is a nice surprise.” I gave him a hug. “I thought we were meeting for dinner.”
Keith dangled a bag containing coffee and chocolate croissants in my face. “That was the plan,” he said.
“Okaaaay.” Him turning up on my doorstep so early was a good omen, I hoped.
“I’m hungry.” I could always rely on Floyd to interrupt whenever I had guests.
“Here.” Keith tore off a piece of his pastry and the bird snatched it out of his fingers.
I glowered at the parrot and asked, “What do you say?”
“Fuck!” That was from Floyd.
“You’ve failed as a parent, Ethan. He has a potty mouth and terrible manners.”
“Gee, thanks.” We went out back and sat on the deck. “Any particular reason why you’re joining me for breakfast? I love that you’re here, don’t get me wrong, but…” I reached out and stroked his hand. “We should make this a habit.”
I dunked one end of the pastry in my coffee, and Keith made a face. “What? Best way to eat a croissant.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You’re not eating.”
“Lost my appetite.” He took a sip of coffee and sighed. “Grandpa went to rehab last night.”
I got up and stood behind him and put my chin on his shoulder while resting my arms on his shoulders. “I know it’s hard—for both of you—but if they can knock out that infection and have him walking...”
“You’re right, I know. My head says it’s the best place, but my heart aches that he’s away from me and his home.”
“I could dispatch Floyd to keep him company.”
Keith ran a hand over his face and sniggered. “They’d both be thrown out—or arrested.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m here.”
“Great. We’ll draw up a schedule and share the driving,” I told him. “And if you need a break, I’ll go instead and take Gran.”
He snorted. “There’s no way you’re driving me anywhere.”
“What? I’m an excellent driver!” I was. Got my license before any of my friends when I was 15. “Besides, sharing is caring, Keith. Didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”
“Right. Did the two almost-accidents slip your mind the day we played mini-golf?”
“Oh, that. Yeah.” Not my finest moments.
“But Grandpa wants me to go home while he’s in rehab.”
I gasped as though someone had punched me in the chest. “Home as in back to his place or your apartment in the city?”
“My real life.”
Ouch, that stung. Was his time with me a diversion, just a way to forget about his grandfather’s illness? I couldn’t blame him if it was. I might have done the same thing if I’d been him. “Okay.”
Needing time to think, I stuffed the rest of the croissant in my mouth. This wasn’t about me. And I shouldn’t have been thinking about us. Mr. Jenson needed to recover. Keith had to focus on that. And then there was his job, his place, his friends. As he said, his real life. Something I wasn’t part of.
“I’ll miss you.”
“Me too,” he mumbled as he yawned and rubbed the back of his neck.
I needed to imprint every part of him in my head, but I also wanted to make him feel better. “Would it be weird if I gave you a going away present?”
“Is it bigger than a bread box? I don’t have much room in the car.”
“It’s not that sort of gift.” I held out my hand and dragged him to his feet.
“Where are we going?”
“To the bedroom where I’m going to remove your clothes and give you a blow job.”
He gulped. “Okay.”
With Keith’s hand in mine, I walked backward into the bedroom and kicked the door closed. We need privacy. I kept my gaze on him, and when my legs hit the bed, I slid my hands under his tee and tweaked one nipple. He yelped, and I replaced my fingers with my mouth.
He moaned, and his head fell back as my tongue flicked the tip. I stroked his smooth, warm flesh before yanking off his shirt. My hands went to his hips, undid the button on his pants, and slowly lowered the zipper, one metal tooth at a time.
“Hurry, Ethan,” he whimpered.
When his pants puddled on the floor, I lowered him to the mattress and yanked them off. His swollen cock stretched his briefs as heated blood pulsed through my veins. I wanted to be inside him, one last time. But he needed comforting more than me.
I leaned forward, seized the waistband of his briefs with my teeth and lowered them. His cock sprang out, and Keith groaned. His chest was heaving as he took deep breaths, and his cock stood stiff and alert in the middle of a shock of dark hair.
I crawled between his spread-eagled legs and cupped his balls with one hand while running my tongue over his shaft. “Ummm.” I lingered at the tip and flicked off a bead of pre-cum. But his scent overwhelmed me, making me dizzy while I explored the texture of his skin.
Keith writhed beneath me as I inhaled his intoxicating scent and licked his blisteringly hot skin before grazing his length gently with my teeth.
“Oh God!” he arched his back and tugged at my hair.
As I parted my lips and swallowed the head, Keith wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and pumped. “Mmmm.”
I nudged his fingers out of the way and his dick slid out of my mouth. “Let me do that.” My hand replaced his as I sucked on his arousal. My own cock was rock hard, but I did my best to ignore it.
As I swallowed each inch of him, and dragged my palm along the shaft, Keith groaned, raking his nails over my scalp. I sucked and tugged, first
fast and then slow. Then faster with my mouth and agonizingly slowly with the hand.
He shouted, “Ethan,” “I love it,” “Faster,” “Now slower.” His breathing sped up and soon the words became grunts, yelps and moans.
“Look at me,” I mumbled. Talking with a cock in your mouth wasn't ideal. He did as I asked, and when his breathing became shallower, I increased the pressure of my hand and mouth. I gave his balls a squeeze, and he bucked his hips. With his hand on the back of my head, he tensed and spurted into my mouth.
As I got up on one elbow, memorizing each line and curve on his face, I was struck by a thought. “Are you all packed?”
“Mmmm. Everything’s in the car.”
“And the bike?”
He opened one eye. “Yeah.”
“Come on.” I dragged him off the bed. “Let’s ride down the big hill behind the park. I’ve been wanting to do it with you. It’ll be our way of saying goodbye.”
Neither of us was dressed for cycling, but it didn’t matter. With the dappled sun peeking through the trees, we made it up the punishing climb on one side. My muscles were screaming when we arrived at the top, but the stunning view of town and the farmland beyond made up for it. “Ready?”
“Yes,” he panted.
“Go.”
We raced down the windy path, and as the wind bit my cheeks, the twists and curves on the track reminded me of life. You never know what’s going to happen, you just have to keep your eyes open and hang on.
When we reached the bottom, Keith raised his fists and shook them at the sky.
“Oh, it’s fine when you do it, but I take my hands off the steering wheel for two seconds and I’m the worst driver.”
“Shut up, Ethan,” Keith yelled before howling with laughter. It was glorious and bubbly. It touched my heart, and I joined in. It was the perfect way to say goodbye.
120
Keith
Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 43