The longer Brett spoke, the harder Roman’s expression got, until Brett trailed off. The moment he went silent, Roman stepped in. “If you’re through, this is what we’re doing. You’ll make me a list of what you need from the house and what work you need done. I’ll go take care of everything on the list. Your doctor will tell you when you can go home and your limitations. Then I’ll go home with you and make sure you stick to his orders. So you can stop apologizing because that’s just ridiculous.”
Brett was in pain. His head spun and he didn’t feel good in any sense of the word. The strength it would take to argue wasn’t there and probably wouldn’t be for a while. The least he could do was make sure Roman was cared for. “Did my phone survive?”
With a snort and a shake of his head, Roman crossed the room, grabbed Brett’s phone, and passed it his way. Brett didn’t have much battery left and his screen was cracked, but he accomplished his task.
While staring at the phone and clicking around, Brett gave in as gracefully as he could. “If you’re determined to do this, I could really use some pain meds, because I’m pretty sure I’m dying. Also, I’m sending you a list via text of things I need.” He clicked send and focused on Roman. “I just ordered an Uber for you. When you get to the house, type three seven six on the keypad and that will unlock the door. In the cabinet closest to the doorway in the kitchen, there are keys to my cars. Pick one to use while you’re here. There’s a black card in my wallet. Get it. You can use that to buy whatever you need.” If Roman had looked triumphant, Brett might have stopped and saved his pride. Instead, Roman stood there looking ready to jump in and Brett felt... something. “Thank you for everything.”
Roman nodded. “We’re friends. You would do the same for me.”
Brett didn’t know if that was true. Honestly, he wasn’t sure anymore what friendship felt like. It had been a long time since anyone had anything to do with him where they weren’t also wanting something from him. Maybe that was a street that went both ways. Brett also didn’t bother with anyone he wasn’t working with to further their careers. It was possible he didn’t know how to be anyone’s friend. Roman didn’t look at him like a friend. In fact, he watched Brett in a way that didn’t feel friendly in the least. He didn’t know what he felt with Roman around. For whatever reason, though, he didn’t want it to stop. So he would let Roman help. Maybe he would regret it. Maybe he wouldn’t. Only time would tell. At the end of the day, if Roman turned out to be like everyone else, it wouldn’t be the first time anyone had used him, and likely wouldn’t be the last. At least Roman was here now. That was more than he could say about anyone else.
Brett owned a black Range Rover that looked like it needed driving. Between Brett’s list and a much-needed shower, things were taking longer than Roman liked. Every time he thought about Brett’s seemingly lifeless body in his arms while first responders worked to free him from the car, Roman’s stomach started shaking all over again. He needed to get back to Brett. Roman had to admit that snooping through Brett’s room—looking for everything on his list—had been fun... and informative.
Brett didn’t own any nude magazines or visible porn. His room was a clean mess. Like there weren’t any dirty clothes or any trash strewn about, but nothing was folded in his drawers, his bed was unmade, and his closet was a disaster area. The rest of the house was meticulous, giving Roman the impression Brett had a housekeeper, but it seemed he didn’t allow them inside his bedroom. Roman wondered if anyone besides Brett was ever inside Brett’s room. Judging by Brett’s bedside table, he had the means to please himself. Roman kept smiling at the stash of toys Brett kept. That was definitely one detail Roman could use to add to his already vivid fantasies of Brett.
With a bag packed, Roman headed back to the hospital. He had forgotten how much he hated L.A. traffic, but damn, Brett’s Range Rover was nice. It beat the hell out of his twenty-year-old Camry. Roman couldn’t afford to get new car fever. His house and car were paid for and he couldn’t take his clothes off for money forever. In fact, he had really passed the age most people stopped like five years ago. The thing was he wasn’t good at anything and life hadn’t exactly been what he hoped. At nineteen, he had thought he would be famous. When that didn’t turn out the way he hoped, Roman had decided to lean heavily upon the only thing he had going for him. His looks. Roman wasn’t conceited. At least, he didn’t think he was. He was old enough to know that looks faded and being considered handsome wasn’t a talent. Roman knew men in their sixties who still made a lot of money from being silver foxes. At thirty-nine, Roman already knew he wouldn’t be one of those guys. He was already tired by ten every night and hated working until two each morning. The most depressing part of it all was that he thought he would have found himself by now. Everyone else his age seemed to have their shit together. Not Roman. He just didn’t have any real talents. Coming back to L.A. always reminded him of that.
By the time Roman weaved his way through the hospital parking lot, heading for the door, the depression he always barely kept at bay threatened to pour in. He never knew when it would strike. That was why he loved making other people smile so much. When he made other people happy, that was the only time Roman felt good about himself.
A loud whistle rent the air. “Yo. Roman.”
Roman’s steps faltered at the sound of his name being called. He looked over his shoulder to find a group of four men headed his way. He recognized three of the men, even though he had only met two. Roman had met Johnny and Wrecker the last time he came to L.A. to see Johnny’s concert. Well, truthfully, he had come to see Brett, and Johnny was Brett’s client, so the concert had been the perfect excuse. Of the three men headed his way, the only human-sized man squeezed between all the huge bodies was the one Roman couldn’t tear his gaze from. It was Jessie Thunder. Roman couldn’t even blink. He had met a lot of semi-famous people over the years, but Jessie was a legend. A rock-and-roll god. Everyone knew his name and face and he was headed Roman’s way.
The moment they reached his side, Johnny jumped in, talking a mile a minute. “I almost didn’t recognize you with your short hair. How is Brett? We heard about his accident on the news and I tried calling, but he didn’t answer. I don’t know what room he’s in or anything, but the news said he’s here. I’m glad to see you. Jessie came with us in case we had to leverage star power to find out his room number, but running into you makes things so much easier.”
Roman had to force his gaze away from Jessie. “Um, yeah. He’s okay. I’m headed up now if you want to come with me.” They all headed inside together while Roman kept filling in the blanks. “He was pinned in the crash, so he ended up with a crushed foot and ankle. They put it all back together, but he’ll be down for a while.” Johnny hissed but didn’t interrupt. “His nose is broken, and his entire left side is black with bruises. Before I left to get him some things from the house, they pumped him full of pain meds, so he’s probably sleeping. I imagine that’s why he didn’t answer when you called.” Roman met Johnny’s stare. “He was really upset about missing your wedding. I had to make him stop apologizing. Congratulations, by the way.” As Wrecker and Johnny thanked him, Roman lost his ability to pretend any longer. He focused on Jessie. “I’m Roman. I’m a huge fan.”
A sweet-looking smile touched Jessie’s lips. Roman lost his breath. Jessie looked... kind. Roman never could have anticipated that. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad Brett has someone taking care of him. To be honest, I half expected to get here and find out he had checked himself out of the hospital. He doesn’t strike me as the type to tolerate any interruption to his schedule. No matter what.”
A laugh burst from Roman. “If I wasn’t here, you’d be right. He was half out of it this morning and he still managed to write me a list of work he needs done today while hiring a car to drive me home. I don’t know how he could see his phone with all the drugs pumping through him, but he has shit to do. He wasn’t letting this hold him down.”
John
ny released a loud sigh. “Yep. That sounds like him.”
Roman glanced between Wrecker and Johnny as they stepped off the elevator and onto Brett’s floor. “Aren’t you two going on a honeymoon or something?”
Wrecker nodded and answered for them. “We’re headed to Maine in the morning. I own a business and it’s not as easy to walk away from as I’d like.”
“What type of business?” Honestly, Roman was merely making conversation.
“The Back Porch. It’s a coffeehouse,” Johnny answered for Wrecker, sounding proud.
“The coffeehouse of L.A.,” the fourth man said, speaking up for the first time. “Everyone goes there.”
Roman focused on the guy. He was so damn big that Roman had thought he was probably only a guard. Roman realized he was being rude. “I’m sorry. I’m Roman,” Roman said, introducing himself again. “My mind is kind of all over the place right now. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner. Between getting hit by a truck, watching Brett suffer while they cut him from the car, and not really sleeping since, I’m barely functioning at this point.”
The huge dude nodded. “It’s cool. I’m Declan. My husband is one of Brett’s clients. He wanted to be here, but he ended up sick after the wedding and he didn’t want to bring any germs to Brett’s room. He made me come so I can tell him every detail. Plus, I have to keep Jessie safe.”
There was a lot to unpack there and Roman had questions, but they were standing outside Brett’s room. Roman realized he should probably warn Brett he was about to be besieged. “Just let me pop in and make sure he’s decent or whatever.”
Everyone nodded and it hit Roman. No one questioned his right to be the one in charge of Brett’s care. Even though each of them probably had more right to watch over Brett than he did, they accepted Roman as the most important person in Brett’s life. That was every bit as sad as it was moving. It was as if Brett had no one who considered themselves close enough to take care of him. That was okay. Roman wanted the job.
He opened the door and peeked in before stepping all the way inside. He smiled at the first sight of Brett. It looked as if the nurse had taken good care of him while Roman had been gone. His bed had been lowered again and blankets piled on top of him. His head turned Roman’s way as Roman slipped inside the room.
“Hey. That was a quick trip.” Brett’s voice still sounded rough.
Roman set his overnight bag aside. “I was in a hurry to get back to your gorgeous face.” Brett snorted. Roman didn’t let that slow him. “You have some visitors waiting in the hall. Is it okay if they come in?”
Brett eyed his mound of covers, as if checking to make sure his body was still intact. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
Roman glanced behind him. “You’re cool to come in.” He grabbed the bag he had brought and moved deeper into the room, making room for everyone. Roman made his way to the corner of the room and unpacked Brett’s laptop while they visited. He checked Brett’s list and found the password Brett had given him to unlock the device. In a matter of minutes, he was logged in to Brett’s computer. He worked his way down the list of rescheduling Brett needed. Roman emailed each client, introducing himself and explaining why Brett couldn’t do any upcoming shows. With that out of the way, he checked Brett’s social media accounts. Roman tuned out everything as he responded to well-wishers and updated his fans on his condition. He didn’t hesitate blocking accounts that said spiteful things. Roman lost track of time as he did what he did best. He charmed people, skating the thin line of keeping Brett’s personal business quiet while keeping people entertained.
“It was nice meeting you, Roman,” Jessie said, interrupting him and making him realize how long he had been lost in working.
“You too.” Roman nodded along as everyone said their goodbyes and wished Brett well. The moment they were alone, Roman set the computer aside and moved to check on Brett. He was barely awake. Roman readjusted his covers and pillows before refilling his water. He turned down the lights.
“Do you need anything?” Brett asked, sounding half asleep.
Roman kissed his cheek. “Yeah. I need you to rest. I have everything else under control.”
“Okay.”
At Brett’s barely whispered response, Roman moved back to the computer. He couldn’t believe, as injured as Brett was, he still asked about Roman’s comfort. While Roman might not have much to offer, he would make sure Brett was cared for in every way. He deserved that. Brett needed someone to keep his brand going while he recovered. That was something Roman could do. Roman wouldn’t fail him.
Four
Brett made a valiant effort to take back his independence once released from the hospital. Unfortunately, the pain, the meds, having one working leg, and Roman made that impossible. The moment he pulled into Brett’s garage, Brett knew he was fucked. Roman refused to let him attempt to hobble into the house. Instead, he had easily carried Brett to bed. The moment he was settled, a wave of exhaustion washed over Brett like he hadn’t been sleeping nonstop. He didn’t feel rested. Nurses and everyone else under the sun had been waking him up every five minutes since he had awoken two days ago. His bed felt amazing.
“I need a shower.”
“You can have a bath,” Roman fussed, sounding like he was the boss.
Brett definitely felt at his mercy. “Don’t you have a job to get back to or like bills to pay?”
Roman chuckled. “Falcon very generously paid off my house when he married Mason, since he stole my roommate. My car is twenty years old and is hanging on by a thread, but it’s paid for too. My savings account looks fine. I’m not needed anywhere else. As much as I know it pains you to admit it, you need me here. I don’t expect you to say as much, though. So, what would you like to eat? Eat first, then I’ll help you into the tub.”
A small growl slipped from Brett before he could stop it from happening. “I can do some things by myself.”
Roman cocked his head to one side. “Can you? Like what?”
Brett thought it over as he took stock of his body. “Bring me my laptop. I can work.”
A bright smile lit Roman’s face—like he found Brett’s words funny. “No.”
A small part of Brett wanted to rage at Roman’s high-handedness. The problem was that Roman looked damn sexy hovering over his bed and he had been too fucking sweet, doing everything for Brett. Brett wouldn’t make the man’s life harder. In fact, he needed to find a way to make this up to Roman.
“If you bring me my phone, I’ll order something to eat. You’ve been doing too much for me as it is.”
Roman’s smile didn’t falter. “Nope. I love cooking and I’m pretty damn good at it. You said I could use your kitchen, so... any food allergies?”
Brett bit back an aggravated sigh. “Nope. Have fun.” Brett shifted positions, trying to find a comfortable spot. A gasp escaped him.
Roman was trying to make him better before the sound died away. “Tell me how to help. More pillows? Less pillows?”
“Everything hurts.” Brett hated admitting to any weaknesses. Between the wreck and sleeping in the hospital’s hard bed, every bruise he had felt ten times worse today. “I really want to soak in a hot bath... and pray for death, honestly.”
“Okay. Give me a minute.”
Brett watched Roman head inside the bathroom with his heart in his throat. He didn’t know what he would have done if Roman hadn’t been with him. The guy had been a miracle. No one else would have dropped everything to revolve around Brett’s needs. That fucked with Brett’s head more than he wanted to admit. Roman reappeared before Brett cried. The pain meds made him weak.
“I don’t want to leave you alone and you get hurt, but I will turn my back while you undress and get in the tub. That way, you can call out if you need me.” Roman picked Brett up as he made the claim. The threat of tears was back at Roman’s offer. He didn’t understand why Roman had to be so nice. Roman confused him. Since the day they met, Brett had been certain he had Roman’s numbe
r. Now it seemed he played some game Brett hadn’t figured out. It left Brett off balance. No one was this nice for no reason.
Roman set him on the edge of the tub. “Is there anything you don’t think you can do by yourself?”
Brett thought it over. He had dressed himself, so he didn’t think he would have a problem undressing himself. The workout shorts and t-shirt he wore were baggy enough to be easy to remove around his bandages and splints. He could likely swing his right leg into the tub and ease himself in while keeping his left leg draped over the edge of the tub. Getting out would be harder, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. “No. I guess, once I’m in, if you could find me some clean clothes, that would be great, but I think I can get in the tub alone.”
With a nod, Roman turned his back and crossed his arms over his chest. Brett smiled again at the sight. The rigid way he stood screamed that he had no intention of peeking. If he had asked, Brett would have let him know he didn’t care. While Brett might not strip for a living the way Roman did, he was no prude. Nor was he ashamed of his body. It was too skinny and not at all as sexy as Roman’s, but his body wasn’t the worst. Brett managed a lot by standing on one leg and bracing his weight with his hands until he sank into the hot water Roman had readied for him. A relieved sigh fell from his lips as the heat enveloped him. Roman glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll find you something to wear.”
Brett wanted to make Roman sit still, but he needed the help, and he didn’t know how to convince Roman to do anything. He felt ridiculously uncomfortable. No one ever took care of him. He fought the urge to swing wildly between thanking Roman and apologizing. Brett agonized over it until Roman returned. Then Brett’s mind latched on to how gorgeous Roman looked and refused to budge. He didn’t want to believe Roman was as beautiful on the inside as he was the outside. That meant Brett had been wrong about Roman all along. Brett wasn’t the type to misjudge. He had always been great at weighing character.
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