Everything Changes

by Melanie Hansen

“Just one stubborn sumbitch, I guess,” he liked to say. “God had other plans for me.”

  Renewed rage toward the guy at the pub propelled Carey up the last few steps. Despite Bill’s unapologetic faith, he’d never once required the same beliefs from anyone, veteran or employee. In fact, one of Carey’s coworkers happened to be an openly gay man, an Army vet married to the father of a platoon-mate killed in Afghanistan.

  Bill had even officiated their Colorado Springs wedding. “My God doesn’t hate,” he’d said.

  Carey now counted Jesse Byrne as one of his closest friends. He and his husband, Trevor, had plenty of their own demons to fight, but Byrney was open and honest about their struggles. As a result, he’d already helped dozens of veterans find their own path to healing, either through the discussion groups he led for the battle buddies of those killed in action, or his arduous backcountry trips that recreated what so many former military members still craved—that feeling of full-body exhaustion that’d been a hallmark of their service. The feeling of being completely “smoked.”

  “I just wanna get smoked, man. Get me smoked.”

  Carey had heard that countless times, from both the men and women who signed up for Byrney’s trips, and fuck, the man delivered. Being filthy, hungry, and exhausted alongside teammates was familiar—and comforting—to many veterans.

  I’m so lucky, Carey thought, not for the first time. And he was, with a fulfilling job, great friends, and—

  He smiled. Right inside the apartment door, Jase waited anxiously for him, trying his best to not look anxious.

  Carey knew he was lucky to be alive, because of Jase and his tireless efforts, not only that day, but many times over the last four years. The huge surge of affection that swamped him took Carey by surprise, but he went with it, pulling Jase into an impulsive hug when he reached the door.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered belatedly in his ear.

  A quiver passed through Jase, and his arms tightened for a few brief seconds. “Stuff’s in your usual room,” he rasped. “Want a nightcap?”

  “Love one.” The sensation of Jase’s hard body pressed so tightly against his started up a weird flutter in Carey’s belly, and suddenly confused, he eased away.

  Jase let him go, his hazel eyes crinkling at the edges. “Go get comfy. Drinks coming up.”

  With that, Carey limped off, his heart tripping a mile a minute.

  Once inside his room, he dismissed the strange reaction to Jase and grabbed up the duffel he kept his stump supplies in. Perched on the edge of the bed, Carey pushed his jeans to his ankles before rolling the sleeve of his prosthetic down, hissing in relief as he eased his residual leg out of the socket. He dug out a small hand mirror and checked every inch of the scarred skin for the telltale red marks that might mean the start of a pressure sore.

  To his relief, he found none. Next, he squeezed out a dollop of softening cream and rubbed it along the puckered scar. A sudden memory reared its head, of Jase doing the same thing for him not long after his final surgery, his fingers strong and sure as he’d massaged in the cream and gently picked the scabs and dead skin from around the still-healing incisions.

  “Oh, gross,” Carey protested as he’d tried to push Jase away. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” Jase waggled his eyebrows. “It’s satisfying, kinda like popping someone’s back zits for them.”

  Carey had gagged, but he’d also laughed, which of course had been Jase’s intention.

  “Friends don’t let friends pick their scabs,” was Carey’s retort, but he hadn’t protested further, since Jase’s touch had felt so good…

  Now he blinked at the realization that he was drifting his fingers along the end of his stump almost dreamily, and with a grunt, he snapped the cap to the cream closed before yanking on a pair of gym shorts and his favorite T-shirt.

  Then he snatched up his crutches and hopped to the kitchen.

  Seated at the table with a tumbler, Jase took one look at him and burst into laughter.

  “What?” Carey asked crossly. “I have a booger hanging out my nose or something?”

  “No, the saying on your shirt.” Wiping his eyes on the hem of his own black tee, Jase wheezed, “‘Marine: Some Assembly Required.’”

  Wordlessly, Carey turned to show him the back, which read: “I had a blast in Afghanistan.”

  That sent Jase into peals of more laughter, the husky sound brushing like crushed velvet along Carey’s skin. “Glad you find it amusing,” he said drily. “Adele actually gave me this.”

  At the mention of the physical therapist who’d treated Carey at Walter Reed, Jase’s cheeks turned pink. Carey couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I know about you two. She told me.”

  “She did?”

  A perpetually cheerful woman anyway, Adele had had an extra spring in her step one morning as she’d bounced into the amputee clinic. “Had dinner with your friend Jase last night,” she’d said, eyes sparkling. “And also, you know, breakfast.”

  Carey had grunted, not in the least concerned about Jase’s sex life. “Can you spot me on the weight bar?” he’d asked, and that was that.

  Now he regarded Jase thoughtfully. “It amazes me, how you stay friends with all your exes.”

  An indignant look crossed Jase’s face. “What do you mean, all my exes? And Adele isn’t an ex, not really. That was mostly timing, comfort.” He shrugged. “Fun.”

  Carey lowered himself into a chair. “Well, she still asks about you when she comes out to work at the ranch. Gets this faraway look on her face.” He snorted at Jase’s smug glance. “Oh, you’re just that good, huh?”

  Jase lifted an eyebrow. “Wanna find out?”

  Even though Carey knew he was joking, a frisson of remembered heat flashed through him. He cleared his throat. “Nah. You’re the bi one here, not me.”

  Their eyes met and held before Jase murmured, “Hmm. Pity.”

  It was Carey’s turn to blush as a tingle of heat spread from his belly down between his legs. He risked a glance at Jase again, only to find gentle teasing on his face.

  Shaking his head, Carey shot him a rueful smile. “You goof. What would you have done if I’d said yes?”

  “If you’d said yes—” Jase got to his feet and poured Carey a few fingers from the bottle of Tennessee Honey liqueur on the counter. After he’d set the tumbler down in front of him, he leaned in close. “I’d have made sure you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. What else?”

  With a wink, Jase sauntered off to his bedroom, leaving Carey staring after him, his pulse pounding so hard he wondered if Jase could hear it.

  Three

  “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

  Carey cracked his eyes open. “Wha…?”

  Struggling to focus, his first impression was of sunlight glowing through the blinds; the second, what seemed like acres of bare golden skin. Then the smell of hot, fresh coffee filled his nose.

  “Mine?” he croaked. “My coffee?”

  “Yep, all yours. Sit up and get it.”

  Carey dragged himself to sitting while Jase helpfully stuffed some extra pillows behind him before handing him the cup.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like the dead.”

  “Figured.” The mattress dipped as Jase perched on the edge of it, his hip next to Carey’s thigh. “It’s ten a.m.”

  Fully awake now, he glanced at the bedside clock. “Shit, it is. I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You’re on vacation.” Jase’s eyes crinkled. “You’d said you wanted to go to the beach, though, and today’s gonna be gorgeous.” He got up and crossed the room to fully open the blinds. “Behold.”

  Instead of the sunlight now streaming in, Carey couldn’t take his eyes off Jase, who wore only a pair of cut-off sweatpants. They rode low on his hips, so low a slice of pubic hair peeked out over the waistband. That hair extended in a narrow strip up to his navel, then lightened to blond as it dusted lightly over his pec
s. Swallowing hard, he tore his gaze away from Jase’s ridged abs.

  “I’m, uh, totally up for the beach,” he rasped. “Lemme finish this and I’ll get ready.”

  “Cool.” Jase flopped on the bed next to him, grinning when Carey yelped at his sloshing coffee. “Here we are, the roomies, back together again.”

  With a snort, Carey swiped at the wet spot on his T-shirt. “God, that seems like forever ago, doesn’t it?”

  “In a way. In other ways it seems like only yesterday.” Jase flattened out on his back. “How many nights did I fall asleep on your bed just like this?”

  “Too many to count.”

  It was true. Unlike Carey’s first barracks roommate, Jase hadn’t been interested in blowing his entire paycheck at strip clubs while getting blackout drunk and then boasting how much ass he’d “gotten.” Instead, he spent most of his downtime studying all the tactical combat casualty care materials he could get his hands on.

  Many a night, armed with a six-pack of beer and some homemade flash cards, Carey’d quizzed him on his knowledge until one or both of them fell asleep, usually Jase sprawled out on Carey’s bed next to him.

  “You do realize those study sessions saved my life, don’t you?”

  His throat working, Jase stared up at the ceiling. “I thank God every day for those sessions. Every damn day.”

  “Me too.”

  Part of Jase’s job as platoon medic was to make sure his Marines knew how to tourniquet themselves. He’d drilled them relentlessly, making them do it one-handed, or with their eyes closed, as he tried to mimic every possible battlefield contingency.

  “I can’t always get to you right away,” he’d lectured them. “Your best chance of survival is for you to know how to treat yourself first.”

  As Jase’s study partner, Carey had gotten to do it over and over, plus learned all the wheres, whys and hows, so that day when the frag grenade had ripped into him, he’d acted out of pure muscle memory, which bought him precious time.

  The bed shook now as Jase heaved a ragged sigh. “Let’s go to breakfast. Then the beach, if you want.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After Jase had closed the door gently behind him, Carey wallowed on the bed for a while longer, remembering those long-ago nights in their barracks room.

  “For a lower leg wound, place the tourniquet two inches above the knee.” Jase’s fingers had brushed lightly over the spot on Carey’s thigh. “Upper leg, same thing, if possible, two inches above. Even up to here.” Pointing to the crease between Carey’s leg and groin, he’d inadvertently nudged his crotch with the back of his hand.

  “Whoops, sorry.”

  Wanting to tease, Carey had given him a mock leer. “I knew it. You’ve been looking for a reason to grab my junk.”

  “Ha, ha, ha, you caught me.” Jase had then sprung up from his crouch at Carey’s feet, his cheekbones dark red.

  “You know what? For a medic, you’re kind of a prude,” Carey’d said, laughing even harder at Jase’s muttered, “Shut the fuck up.”

  Grinning at the memory, Carey finished his coffee and scooted to the edge of the bed to grab up his leg bag. He performed the same routine as the night before—a mirror check and one more round of softening cream. As the cream absorbed, Carey donned a pair of brightly patterned board shorts, then crutched down the hall to the apartment’s one and only bathroom to shave and brush his teeth.

  On his way back, he caught a glimpse of Jase out on the tiny patio, sprawled in a chair, what looked like a joint in between his fingers…

  He stared in shock. What? Since when did Jase smoke weed? It suddenly rocked him, how much his friend had changed in the year since they’d last seen each other. What else was different? And why hadn’t he paid more attention?

  Carey watched him for a moment longer before shaking his head and continuing back to his room. Crossing to the window, he gazed out at the brilliant blue sky as he listened to the muffled scrape of the patio door opening and closing in the next room.

  Okay. So what if Jase burned one every now and then? He wasn’t in the military anymore, no piss tests. Plus, he was a grown man, and one of the most level-headed, responsible people Carey knew. The last thing he needed was someone worrying over him.

  Still, he needed to pay more attention to what was going on in Jase’s life, and resolving to do just that, turned his thoughts to the upcoming beach trip—sun, sand, water, and spending uninterrupted time with the best friend he’d ever had.

  He smiled.

  Yep. This was gonna be a real good day.

  Carey tilted his face up toward the sky, his eyes closed. “Fuck, I love it here.”

  Jase traced his gaze wistfully over Carey’s strong jawline and high cheekbones. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I keep hoping you’ll decide to ditch that cold, snowy shit and move here, too.”

  “Ha.” Opening his eyes, Carey sat back and picked up his glass of orange juice. “Every winter I tell myself I’m going to, if only Bill would start a satellite operation somewhere like here, or Hawaii. I wouldn’t complain about Hawaii.”

  “Me either.”

  They chuckled before applying themselves enthusiastically to the stack of pancakes the server set in front of them. Finally, Carey laid down his fork and gave a discreet belch behind his fist. “Damn, those were good.”

  Jase wiped his lips on his napkin. “This is my favorite place. The last time I was here—” Todd’s earnest face suddenly swam before him, and he broke off, wincing.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just—” Jase toyed with his crumpled-up straw paper before blurting out the story of the night before. “I feel like I’m using him, but I really don’t want a relationship.”

  “And you’ve told him that?”

  “Repeatedly.”

  “Then as long as you’re honest, I guess it’s on him if he keeps coming around.”

  “I guess.”

  They fell silent, and then Carey pushed his plate away and dropped his napkin on top of it. “Can I, uh, ask you something?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “When did you—” He swallowed hard. “When did you know for sure you were bi?”

  Jase blinked. “Um, any particular reason you want to know?”

  Carey shrugged, although his cheeks looked suspiciously pink. “No. No reason. Just curious.”

  “Well—” Waiting until the smiling server had taken their empty plates away, Jase went on, “It was my junior year of high school, actually. My girlfriend, Emily, had an exchange student from Spain staying with her. A senior named Javier.”

  Carey snorted. “You had the hots for the older Spanish exchange student?”

  “Oh, yeah. He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen,” Jase said, hearing the dreamy note in his own voice. “Tall, built, those eyes…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I discovered I liked kissing him as much as I liked kissing her.”

  When Carey’s eyes widened, he rushed on, “Not at the same time! I mean, Emily and I had called it quits before Javier and I ever hooked up.”

  “You slept with him?”

  Jase shrugged. “Sleeping didn’t have much to do with it, but yeah. Learned a lot from him, about myself, about sex.”

  Was it his imagination, or was Carey staring at his mouth? “Seriously, why do you want to know?”

  Carey snapped his gaze to his, then away. “Like I said, just curious. We’ve never talked about that part of it, even that night you came out to me.”

  “What?” Jase huffed. “I like the way you put that, ‘came out to me.’ You walked in on me and my date!”

  “Walked into my own fucking room,” Carey retorted. “Sure didn’t expect to see my roomie—”

  “On his back with his knees in the air?” Jase said wickedly. “You were supposed to be gone that entire weekend!”

  “Not my fault the stupid exercise was postponed.” Carey’s tone was adorably disgruntled. “Instead of crawl
ing around in the freezing mud, here I was, about to have a beer, sleep in my own bed, and instead I walk in on—” The flush on his cheeks was back.

  Jase grunted. “Well, just so you know, you really ruined the mood.”

  The guy, a closeted Marine, couldn’t get out of there fast enough. When Jase tried to text him later, he found to his chagrin that he’d been blocked.

  “Sorry,” Carey said, sounding anything but. “It was my room, too, asshole.”

  Still bickering, they paid the bill at the register and ambled down the sidewalk toward Carey’s SUV. As they swung inside, Carey blurted, “Has there ever been anyone, you know, special? Like, anyone you’ve ever been in love with?”

  Jase snapped on his seatbelt, determinedly looking anywhere but at the man he’d been in love with for going on four years now.

  But “No” was all he said.

  Four

  Crutching his way across soft sand was not Carey’s idea of a good time.

  By the time he reached the beach chairs, he was sweaty and out of sorts. Jase didn’t say anything or offer any help, and he was grateful for that. So many times people thought they had to “help,” not realizing they were being more of a hindrance than anything else. As a medical professional, Jase was aware of that, so Carey was able to catch his breath in peace as Jase busied himself setting their cooler and Carey’s leg bag within reach.

  “Gonna go get in that game, if that’s okay,” Jase said, nodding toward a volleyball match going on nearby. “Shout if you need me.”

  Carey nodded back, and Jase winked at him before stripping his T-shirt off and loping toward the group of volleyball players.

  They seemed to know him, several of them high-fiving him in welcome. Soon the game was back in full swing, shouts of competition and grunts of exertion ringing in Carey’s ears. Digging deep, he did his best to cast off the feeling of self-pity that crept over him at times like this, times when he had no choice but to sit on the sidelines.

  As a Marine, physical fitness had been his life. Just a few short years ago, he’d have been out there, too, diving, shouting, rolling in the sand…