Everything Changes

by Melanie Hansen

  The medic’s face suffused red. “You don’t tell me who to take, asshole.” He shoved Jase away, and before Jase could go for him again, the platoon officer in charge jogged up, took the medic aside, and less than a minute later, Carey was being loaded onboard.

  As the helo took off, Jase cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “And he’s gonna make it, you got that? You’re gonna make it, Carey! You’re gonna fuckin’ make it! Fight, dammit. Fight like hell!”

  The OIC wrapped his arm around Jase’s shoulders and led him back toward the compound. “You did good, Doc,” he said soothingly. “You did real good.”

  Jase nodded, fighting back tears as the sound of the rotor blades disappeared into the distance.

  The smell of blood, of devastating injury, slowly faded, washed clean by the briny smell of the ocean. Wails from the frightened baby, from the women mourning their dead friend, also drifted away, replaced by the crashing of the waves.

  A cool breeze blew across Jase’s slick skin, his running shorts soaked with sweat, his legs leaden with exhaustion. He glanced around, realizing with a sudden jolt how far he’d come. Lost in his memories, he’d lost track of time, and where he was.

  Wearily, he turned around and headed for home.

  Nine

  The scratch of the key in the lock woke Carey from his doze.

  He sat bolt upright on the couch, disoriented. “Jase?”

  No answer, and when he glanced at his phone, he was shocked to see it’d been three hours since Jase had left. Had he really been running that long?

  Carey headed for the front door. “Jase?” he called again. “You okay?”

  In the foyer, Jase leaned against the wall, as if he couldn’t take one more step. Carey hurried to him, alarmed how hot and dry his skin felt when he took his arm.

  Leading him into the kitchen, Carey got him seated at the table before wetting a dish towel with cold water, which he laid gently on the back of his neck. Jase hissed, his forehead pressed against his folded arms.

  “How far did you run?” Carey asked, pulling him a glass of tepid water from the tap.

  “Dunno. Too far.” Jase took cautious sips of the water as Carey re-wet the towel several times.

  At last Jase dropped his head back to his arms, and Carey resisted the urge to rub his back, digging his fingers into his thighs instead.

  The silence stretched, Jase’s breathing so long and slow Carey wondered if he’d fallen asleep. He was about to get up and see if he could coax him to go lie down when Jase whispered, “What do you remember about that—that day you were hurt?”

  Instant memories washed over Carey. “I remember everything up to the explosion. After that, impressions mostly.” He paused. “Why?”

  Jase didn’t answer, and Carey patiently waited him out. It didn’t bother him to talk about that day, not anymore, and he was sensing Jase needed—something.

  At last he went on, “I remember feeling safe, when they carried me over to you. You were so calm, so steady, and I knew you’d help me.”

  A shudder passed through Jase.

  “I remember the FAST1,” Carey said, rubbing his chest ruefully. “That hurt. But whatever you hooked me up to made me feel better, like I was floating. I remember waking up on the helo and calling for you, but of course you weren’t there.” He chuckled. “Then I remember grabbing my junk. I guess to make sure I still had it.”

  It was his turn to shudder. At the ranch, he’d run into many a soldier and Marine who’d had their testicles blown off as well as their legs, and sometimes their penises as well, young men in the prime of their lives. He couldn’t resist reaching down to give himself a reassuring pat.

  “You called for me?” Jase’s voice was barely audible.

  “On the helo?” Carey nodded. “I did. I was confused at first, didn’t know where I was.”

  He was surprised to see a wave of anger pass over Jase’s face. “Did the medic—did he comfort you? What did he do?”

  Carey blinked, casting his mind back, unsure what was causing Jase’s distress. “Shit, I don’t know. Why?” The kernel of a memory, long buried, sprouted. “Wait. Did you fight with him?”

  A muscle rippled in his jaw. “Almost. That fucker.”

  The memory grew, and spread. Carey gasped. “I remember now. I remember you shouting. What happened?”

  “He wasn’t gonna let you on. He said—he said you weren’t gonna make it.”

  A bolt of anger shot through Carey. “What? That asshole!”

  “Right? I swear to God, you were getting on that helo if I had to tie you to the skids myself.”

  “Wow. I looked that bad, huh?”

  “Awful,” Jase agreed.

  “Like I was dying?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  They chuckled together, and then Carey reached for his hand. “Thanks for making sure that asshole didn’t let me die.”

  “Fuck him forever.” Jase gripped Carey’s fingers in his. “Thanks for not, uh, actually dying.”

  “You’re welcome,” Carey said drily. He rubbed his thumb lightly over Jase’s wrist. “It’s funny. Just when I think I know everything you’ve done for me, I find out something else. What’s up with that?”

  With a half-smile, Jase murmured, “Well, a good medic always takes care of his guys.”

  “Yeah?” Carey’s voice was soft. “And who takes care of the medic?”

  “Why, you applying for the job?”

  “I’m starting to think someone’s got to.”

  Beneath his stroking thumb, Jase’s pulse leapt. “Maybe.”

  “Why were you thinking about that day?” Carey didn’t let go of Jase’s hand, his own heartbeat spiking when Jase absently turned his palm up and linked their fingers together.

  “Mmm. I do that a lot, you know? Think about what I could’ve done differently. Better.”

  “Better? You saved my life. What’s better than that?”

  Jase’s lips flattened. “Um, saving your leg, too? Maybe if I’d—”

  Gaping at him, Carey exclaimed, “Are you serious? Look at me.”

  Shaking his head, Jase stared down at their joined hands.

  “Well, listen to me, then. My leg couldn’t be saved. There wasn’t enough of it left to save. To stay ahead of the infection, they had to take it.” He gave Jase’s hand a squeeze. “I know you know this, so why beat yourself up about it all these years later?”

  For a second Carey thought Jase wasn’t going to answer, and when he did, his voice was barely audible. “‘Why didn’t you just let me die?’”

  At a total loss, Carey was about to demand what he was talking about when the truth slammed into him with the force of a hammer blow.

  Oh, God.

  That night. Jase on the floor picking up broken crockery, his head bowed while Carey hurled words at him like poison-tipped darts—words like Why didn’t you just let me die? Desperate to escape his own pain, Carey had turned around and inflicted it instead on the one who’d least deserved it, and Jase, able to handle the physical tantrum, had been left exposed to the emotional one.

  His throat tight, Carey said, “Please look at me.” He tugged on their joined hands. “Please.”

  Finally Jase dragged his eyes to his. The remoteness in them scared Carey even more than tears would have. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for everything I said that night.”

  “I know…”

  “No, you don’t know, because I don’t think I’ve ever said it plainly, flat-out, that I’m so fucking sorry for every hurtful, untrue word that came out of my mouth that night.” Carey sucked in a fortifying breath. “And for not saying the words I should have said. Like thank you. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for fighting asshole medics for me. Thank you for coming to the hospital, for moving in with me, for working out with me, for—”

  “Stop.” Now Jase’s eyes held the glimmer of a smile. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, bu
t I do.” Carey grinned. “Except it’d take all day, because there’re so many things I’m grateful to you for. Like teaching me yoga. Fetching the mirror. Playing me songs. What I should do is make you sit here and listen to all of it—”

  “Carey, stop.”

  “—but how about I just kiss you instead?”

  The impulsive words shimmered in the air between them. Jase’s lips parted in shock. “K-kiss me?” Then he blinked. “Oh, ha ha. Like you could kiss that recruiter?” He rolled his eyes. “For a second, I thought you were serious.”

  “I am serious.” Carey’s voice came out shaky, even as his stomach hollowed out.

  What am I doing?

  Jase’s eyes narrowed. “Really.” He sprawled back in his chair. “Do it, then.”

  Carey stared at him for a split second, his thoughts in a jumble. He had time to turn this into a joke. Not a very funny one, but still…

  Jase lifted both palms up, his eyebrows raised as if to say “I’m waiting.”

  Firming his jaw, Carey stood and bent over him, his hands braced on the back of Jase’s chair. They studied each other, Jase’s eyes glowing with a vulnerability that tugged at him, that gave him the courage to lean forward and brush their mouths together once, twice. Carey lingered over the second one, their lips clinging, before straightening and stepping back, leaving Jase gazing up at him, spots of color high on his cheekbones.

  Jase licked his lips, like he could still taste Carey on them. “Wow,” he said softly.

  Then he got to his feet.

  Carey’s whole body tingled, his breathing going fast and shallow as Jase stalked inexorably toward him, backing him up until his ass was pressed against the kitchen counter. He didn’t cage him in with his arms, but he was close, so close that Carey could feel his heat.

  “Uh, don’t get me wrong,” Jase’s low voice was huskier than usual, “I enjoyed the hell out of that, but Carey, what’s going on?”

  Carey let out a shaky chuckle. “I wish I knew. That totally wasn’t planned.”

  Jase’s eyes searched his.

  “It’s just—” Carey swallowed. “For some reason, kissing you has really been on my mind lately.”

  There. He’d said it. His knees trembled a bit as he waited for Jase’s response.

  “Hmm.” Jase’s face didn’t change expression. “I do like the sound of that.” His lips tightened. “But not if it’s tied to trauma, or gratitude.”

  Carey didn’t answer. What could he say? Jase’s gaze pinned him in place, and he fought not to fidget. At last he sighed. “I’m sorry for the mixed signals. If I were you, I’d be sick of them, too.” He attempted a smile.

  Silence. Then Jase said, “Tell you what. Let’s go do something. Something fun, just the two of us. If, at the end of the day, you still feel the same way, we can, er, discuss it more. If not—” He shrugged. “We’ll chalk what happened just now to a walk down memory lane.”

  He turned away, leaving Carey weak with a combination of both relief and disappointment.

  Disappointment?

  Jesus. Had he wanted Jase to back him against the counter, cage him in with his arms and kiss the ever-loving shit out of him?

  The truth rocked him.

  Yes. Yes, he had.

  But Jase wouldn’t. He’d promised not to push Carey again, but yet Carey continually found himself pushing him. Why? So he could get what he wanted while also telling himself the decision had been taken out of his hands?

  No. Stop jerking him around like this. Grow up. Be honest with him, and yourself.

  From down the hall came the sound of the shower coming on, so Carey hurried to the guest room to get ready. He’d spend the day with his best friend, and he’d let himself feel it all—the desire, the confusion—all of it.

  And if, in the end, he found himself kissing Jase again…

  Carey’s heart gave a thud.

  Well, he’d deal with that when it happened.

  “What was it like, growing up in such a large family?”

  Jase glanced at Carey, who ambled at his side, hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo shorts.

  He shrugged. “Loud, messy, chaotic.”

  “Did you get along with them all?”

  With a bark of laughter, Jase said, “Sometimes. Depends on the day. I got stuck babysitting the little twerps a lot, which cramped my style like you wouldn’t believe.” He sighed. “But mostly I didn’t mind. Mostly.”

  “Where do they live now?”

  Jase snorted. “All within a twenty-mile radius of where we grew up. San Antonio.”

  “So you’re the only one who really flew the coop?”

  “Yep, just me.”

  “Were you that desperate to get away? I mean—” Carey made a helpless gesture. “Surrounded by a loving family like that, it seems like you’d want to stay close.” Then he winced. “I’m sorry. My perspective on things like that is a little skewed. I don’t mean to sound judgmental.”

  Jase’s heart gave a twinge. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t think you were judging me.”

  If anything, Carey had sounded wistful.

  Jase cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’d just started nursing school when my sister Sami, who’s a year younger than me, popped out her first kid. I suddenly saw my future, you know? Cool Uncle Jase, babysitting, nothing ever changing. I needed to find myself, so I decided to put a lot of distance between me and them. Don’t get me wrong, I love ’em all to death, but I needed some space, you know?”

  “I get it.” Carey elbowed him lightly. “So the hot recruiter didn’t have to do much more than look hot to reel you in.”

  “Yeah, baby. I was ripe for the plucking.”

  They laughed together, and Jase asked curiously, “How did you end up in the Marines?”

  Carey shrugged. “Well, Mr. Carter was one, you know, the café owner? We’d talked a bit about it over that year I spent there. He thought it’d be good for me, the structure, the camaraderie, since I hadn’t had much of that in my life.” He shook his head. “His experiences in Vietnam were—oh my God, the brotherhood. He still went to the reunions every year, and the whole thing really appealed to me.”

  Jase thought back. “You were twenty-one when I met you, though, and you’d just graduated from recruit training. You didn’t go in right after high school?”

  “Nah. Not ready.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Stupid shit.” Tilting his head back, Carey blew out a breath. “Drifted up to Phoenix, spent some time being homeless, lived with a couple girls. Drank too much.”

  A pang went through Jase. He’d aged out of the system, and had been cut loose. Wary and distrusting, he’d even turned his back on Mr. Carter…

  Once again it hit him, how precious the gift of Carey’s trust was. Fragile, not easily given. It made Jase want to guard it with his life.

  “But I finally made it in,” Carey was saying, “and it was everything I needed it to be. The structure, the expectations, the challenges, I soaked it all up.”

  “Me, too, actually.”

  Jase jerked his head and steered him toward a different path, the one leading to the world-famous Balboa Park lily pond. The mid-afternoon sky couldn’t be more brilliant. The breeze was cool, and the sprawling park was full of joggers, picnickers and families pushing strollers, the shouts of kids at play drifting in the air.

  Next to him, Carey chuckled. “Seems to me all you did was exchange one group of younger siblings for another. Except these ones got to run around with guns and get their legs blown off.”

  Now Jase laughed aloud. “Put that way, it’s so true.”

  “So the band stuff is perfect for you. A way to stay connected to the community and give back, but yet you’re getting to express yourself in a healthy, creative way separate and apart from the herd mentality of the military.”

  “Oh, no. Careful.” It was Jase’s turn to nudge him, smiling. “You’re sounding an awful lot like a peer counselor there.�
�

  “Good. ‘Cause that’s what I am. And I love it.”

  “I know you do.”

  They’d reached the lily pond by then, and Jase enjoyed the awe on Carey’s face as he first gazed at it, then over at the botanical gardens building. “It really is beautiful here. The weather, the beach…”

  “You should move here.” A little embarrassed at how fervent he’d sounded, Jase rushed on. “I mean, you’d mentioned asking Bill about a satellite operation. It actually makes sense, you know? The military is a big presence here. There’s a VA. There has to be a need…”

  He trailed off when Carey gave a noncommittal shrug, then pointed. “What’s over there?”

  Accepting the change of subject, Jase said, “The Spanish art center, and then the zoo a bit beyond that.”

  Carey started walking that way, and Jase followed. What had he really expected Carey to say—“Hey, yeah, let me just uproot myself and move halfway across the country”? His home was in Colorado, along with his job and his friends, and if nothing else, Jase knew change didn’t come easily for him, not after a lifetime of it.

  “For some reason, kissing you has been on my mind.”

  Oh, how Jase had wanted to pull him close in that kitchen just now and kiss him until they’d both been gasping for mercy. But once—just once—he wanted to feel Carey’s lips on his without it being driven by a need for comfort, or because of gratitude. He wanted Carey to kiss him simply because he wanted to.

  He huffed under his breath. Yeah, speaking of change…

  Coming to terms with his emerging bisexuality was something Carey would have to do in his own time, in his own way. The last thing Jase would ever try to do was influence him, or push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

  Something he might never be ready for.

  “Hey.” Glancing up, Jase saw Carey waiting for him. They fell into step again, silent until Carey said, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Since when do you smoke pot?”

  Jase’s breath froze in his chest. “What?”

  “I saw you out on your patio, that first morning. No judgment, just wondering.”