Page 41 of Heart Strain

16

Jameson

Iwake up to the sound of Peanut yipping on the other side of my bed. Holds startles and begins stretching, stiffening when his movement is restricted by my body being wrapped around him from behind. For an instant, he relaxes back into me, but then I feel him tense. Not wanting him to be uncomfortable, and not sure how to act myself, I release him—after one last discreet smell of his underlying clean, fresh scent, now mixed with the smell of our sex—and go straight to my drawer so I can slip on a pair of sweatpants. Hearing my movement, Peanut runs around the back of the bed toward me, spinning in a circle. “You want to go out, boy? Come on. I’ll take you.” I grab a t-shirt and follow him as he takes off running.

I hear a faint, “Thank you,” from the bed and I mumble, “No problem,” as I’m slipping the shirt over my head.

Peanut wastes no time doing his business as soon as I open the door into my back yard, but I stay outside with him for a few minutes to give Holden the time to come downstairs and get dressed. The morning after is usually uncomfortable for me when I sleep with someone I’m not dating, but sleeping with Holden—having sex with Holden—my best friend’s brother, is unnerving on so many levels. What was I thinking?

But the night before was already intense before we’d received the call about Drix. For some reason I can’t explain even to myself, I’d pushed Holden to talk. Nothing had changed at that point, we hadn’t seen signs while we were at the hospital of Drix getting better or worse, and yet, I’d had to know Holden’s intentions. If I’m completely honest with myself, it wasn’t just about how long he’d be here for Drix, but for me, too. It’s been… nice... having another person to talk to. Picking up Peanut each evening and coming home, well, coming to my house, and then eating and spending time with Holden, Peanut, Simba, and Nala has been special, even with the shroud of worry surrounding us.

Fairly confident I’ve given Holden enough time to get himself together, and really needing to hit the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, I enter the back door into the kitchen. Holden is bustling around feeding Simba and Nala with both of my babies slinking around his ankles. “I don’t think they liked you not feeding them right away. They were meowing up a storm, so I figured I’d feed them. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no problem. Thank you.” He only nods, so to cover the silence, I say, “It’s still crazy to me how fast Peanut can get around on three legs. It’s incredible how he hasn’t let his disability hinder his life at all.”

Holden bends down to pet Peanut who’s hanging at his feet waiting for his daddy’s attention. “He really hasn’t. He’s a special little guy.”

“I’m sure having a great daddy has helped.”

Holden doesn’t acknowledge my comment, but coos to Peanut who begins licking his face. The two of them are adorable together. Before I can think of anything else to say, or bring up last night, Holden says, “Can we go to the hospital soon? I already checked my phone and there weren’t any more calls, but I’d like to see him for myself this morning.”

“Me, too. Let me run up and get dressed. I’ll make it fast.”

“Okay. We’ll have to go by my parents’ house so I can change, too. We can drop Peanut off while we’re at it,” he says.

I’m already walking out of the kitchen toward my stairs, then hesitating, I stop and turn back to Holds. The idea of what happened last night changing our usual routine hurts my chest, so I suggest, “Why don’t we leave Peanut here today? I’ll take you home and wait in the car while you get dressed, then we’ll go to the hospital for the day, but it seems silly to drop Peanut off just to pick him back up on our way here for dinner.”

Holden’s shoulders sag with relief and a small grin appears on his face. “That would be great. Thanks. I think after all the time the three of them have spent together lately, he probably likes the company, anyway.”

I hurry through a shower—after last night, there’s no way I can go without one—and throw some clothes on so we can get going. Holden is waiting for me on the couch with all three of our pets cuddled up to him; Peanut in his lap, Simba tucked against his right thigh, and Nala on the back of the couch wrapped around his neck. I snap a picture before he looks up.

The car ride to Drix’s house is silent. Part of me wants to ramble on to fill it, but I’m not sure how to broach what happened last night, and while it may make me a coward, I’m good with not discussing it if Holden is. “I need to shower before we go.” Color floods Holden’s face. “Do you want to come in?”

“No, I’m good. I have some emails to answer, so I’ll wait out here and do it from my phone.” The last thing I need is to be sitting in the house picturing his trim, lithe body wet and soapy in the shower. “Holden,” I say as he opens the door. “Take your time, okay. I don’t mind waiting.” He gives me another small grin while he nods his head, then he’s out of the car and headed toward his front door.

Checking my email, I find the confirmation for my next visit with the precinct shrink tomorrow. We’ve met twice already, but the first two times I was still so torn up about Hendrix being in a coma that we focused on the guilt I felt seeing him get shot and the guilt I’m feeling now. I know if I want to get released back to active duty, I’m going to have to discuss my shooting the perp, but I haven’t been ready. I can’t even wrap my head around the fact I actually killed someone while I’m so worried about Drix.

Holden is back out in record time, and as I pull into the Dunkin Donuts, he asks quietly, “We’re stopping for coffee?”

“No reason not to,” I reply. “Hendrix is fine. We know he is or the hospital would’ve called by now. This is like any other normal day.”

He doesn’t reply but turns his head to look out the passenger side window. Hopefully, my comment hasn’t upset him, but I want things to go back to normal; before I accused him of abandoning his brother, or Drix scared the crap out of us, and even more importantly now, before we had sex. Ugh. “Hey, guys, we missed you yesterday,” the girl says as soon as we pull up to the window to collect our order.

“Missed you, too,” I reply, winking at her.

Holden turns his head toward the drive thru window. “You know, you guys really give us a nice boost to the day.”

“Well, the same goes here.” She passes our order out to me. “You’re both always so polite. Believe me when I say, not everyone is as kind as you two first thing in the morning.” Then she giggles, causing Holden to laugh for the first time all day, then smile over at me. Phew! I think we’re going to be okay.

As soon as we get to the hospital, we arrange what the nurses now call our game table into its spot, position our chairs, and I pull out the cards. The doctors pass through and assure us that while Drix may not have woken up yet, he’s not worse after the scare the other night. Holden’s eyes cloud as he stares at Drix, and for the first time in days, he doesn’t take one of his hands off of Drix’s hand all day. Apparently, we’re really not going to address what happened last night, so we launch back into teasing each other, and when I finally win a hand, he claims it’s because his cards are basically visible with him trying to play one-handed and his cards balanced in his lap.

All of a sudden, Holden startles, his eyes swinging to the bed as he jerks up and leans over Drix.

“What’s going on?” I jump up, pushing the table back, letting the cards scatter so I can get next to Holden.

“He moved, Jameson. I’m sure of it. His hand moved under mine.” His body is vibrating next to mine. Then leaning toward Drix, he whispers, “Drix, hey, are you done being lazy, yet? It’s been weeks. Can you wake up now? It sucks being home without you to talk to.” Then I see it. There’s no question that Drix’s eyelashes flutter. “Did you see that? Did you?” he asks, voice escalating. He’s bobbing on his toes, one hand now covering Drix’s chest as the other squeezes his hand.

Drix’s lashes flutter again, but there’s no other sign he’s awake.

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