Page 48 of Heart Strain

“Um, I’ve seen him before he’s had his coffee, Drix.” At the quirk of his brow, I continue, “Because I pick him up every morning and we stop for coffee on the way here.” Technically, I’ve actually only had the pleasure of seeing him before he ingested at least one cup of coffee in the morning once, but I’m not thinking about that morning. Every time I do, it leads me back to how silky the strands of his hair felt in my hands, how soft the skin on his lithe body felt as I caressed it, or the way his cheeks and neck flushed in passion. All of which culminates in my dick going so hard I have no choice but to stroke one off, which then leads to guilt since he’s my friend and my best friend’s brother.

“What was that?” Drix asks.

“What?” I squeak.

“That face. What was the face you just made? Your face screwed up all weird and then I saw guilt. What’s going on with you and my little bro?”

“Nothing.” Before he can badger me, I say, “Stop giving the people here a hard time. You’re not going to be able to transfer to the rehabilitation center until their other concerns are gone. Everything they’re doing is to help you.”

“Sure, coming in making me squeeze balls and sit up and lean back is really helping me. Or my favorite, when they come in and make me follow the light with my eyes and ask me a series of questions. Obviously, my brain is still working. That seems a little unnecessary at this point. None of it’s going to get me up and walking. I’m bored and stuck in this bed with no privacy.”

“Drix, you’re being an ass. They’re working on the parts of your body that they can while you’re here. And whether any of us like it or not, you are still having trouble remembering. They’re only doing their job. Lay off.”

We both grow quiet and sip on our coffees. It’s strange being in an uncomfortable silence with him. We’ve always been able to talk about anything and everything. And of the two of us, I’m usually the negative one. It’s concerning to hear defeat in his voice—the underlying anger. Finally, he breaks the silence. “Have you been working out?”

“Sure, I mean, not a full workout at the gym or anything, but I’ve been hitting the weights and stuff at home before bed.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” I ask perplexed.

“Why aren’t you going to the gym and why are you working out at home before bed?” Neither of those answers are anything I’m ready to talk about. “Don’t bullshit me either, Jameson. No one knows you like me. I can always tell when you’re lying.”

“Fine.” I avoid eye contact with him, choosing to stare out the windows. Now that Drix is awake, the nurses have been opening his blinds when they bring in his breakfast in the morning. “I haven’t been going to the gym because I’m used to going with you, and if I wait to work out before bed, I fall asleep faster.” There’s no way I’m telling him the last part is so that I don’t spend half the night jerking off while picturing his brother.

“Hmm… take my brother.”

“Do what?”

“Take my brother to the gym with you. We’re twins; it’ll be like working out with me.”

Bile fills my throat. In no way do I associate the two of them. Of course, they resemble each other, but Drix is muscular with close-cropped hair. His body is impressive, but it doesn’t make my heart race or fill me with desire. Ew! But Holden’s lean strength, the way his hair cascades around his shoulders when it’s down… “Nah, your brother’s a runner. He won’t want to go with me.”

Drix remains quiet. Not daring to peek at him as the weight of his gaze is blanketing me, I try to think of something to say, but he beats me to it. “You know, Foxy, now that Holds is moving home, you may as well take him to our gym. I’m sure once I’m walking and I regain enough strength, he’ll be going with us anyway to keep an eye on me. Even if he doesn’t lift with you, he can at least hop on the treadmill.”

My brain scrambles. Drix did notice that Holds called me Foxy yesterday, which had never sounded so good to me on the one hand, but had worried me on the other that Drix caught it. And moving back here? Holds is coming home? “I… what?”

“Yep, my brother’s moving home.” He sets his coffee back down and leans back. “He’s checking out one of the clinics he saw advertising for a vet online yesterday right now. Once my brother decides to do something, he rarely wastes time.”

“Oh.” Nice, Jameson, very eloquent.

“Yeah, I’m psyched, so my suggestion for you is to take him to the gym and work out your frustration.”

“My what?”

“Uh-huh. The two people I love most in the world, who have spent weeks together holding each other up while praying I make it, are awkward and uncomfortable in the same room. They take turns staring at each other when they think the other one—or me—isn’t looking. You know all his favorite foods, and he knows yours. You keep his dog at your house all day, and apparently, with the introduction of my brother, the vet, into your life, you have kittens, plural. But for some reason you both expect me to believe that there’s nothing going on while I have no ability to get away from watching you dance around each other all day, short of maybe gauging my eyes out. Or wait… maybe you’re both trying to convince yourselves.”

Luwanna’s words this morning, sounding much like Drix’s, echo in my head. Pulling up my big boy pants, I really focus on Drix’s face. His eyes are still closed, but his face is peaceful. He doesn’t look angry or even concerned at the thought of me and Holds having… or doing… something. But it’s his brother, shouldn’t he be bitching me out or warning me away? And Holden didn’t tell me he was moving back. How can I deny whatever this is if he doesn’t leave?

* * *

“Why are we here?It’s a great idea, but you’ve never mentioned it before,” Holden says as we cross the parking lot toward the front of the gym.

“I don’t know. Drix brought up the fact he wouldn’t be able to work out for a while, and I’m hoping to get back to work soon, so… I thought it would be a nice change of pace.”

Holds laughs. “It really is. We spend so much time sitting in the hospital my butt is starting to flatten.” I grunt in response and hold the door open for him, pretending I’m not glancing down at his beautifully rounded ass while he passes me. It still looks good to me. Shit!

We decide to do a bit of what we both like. I agree to run with him on the treadmill, and he spends time in the weight room with me. His skin glistening with sweat calls to me. I want to lick it off him, make him even sweatier. I’ve never thought about hitting the showers in the gym to do anything sexual—I’m a cop for god’s sake and this is a public place—but for the first time ever, as I watch him do squats, the desire to haul him into the locker room and see him squat down to wrap his lips around my length is all I can think about. If I thought not fantasizing about Holds was difficult before, it’s nothing compared to how hard—pun intended—it is watching his muscles ripple with exertion.

As we finally make our way back to the locker room, I fight the images my mind’s been conjuring during our workout so that I don’t embarrass myself while we change. “Jameson, is something wrong?” he asks, grabbing my bicep and pulling me to a stop.

His touch breaks my resolve; honestly, it breaks my brain. Without saying a word, I turn to him and cup his face in both hands and stare into those sapphire blue eyes. As his pupils dilate under my intensity, his breaths become short and raspy, making him the only thing I see or hear. When he breathes out, “Foxy,” I can’t control myself any longer and lean in to capture his lips in a long, sweet kiss. My tongue is hit with the taste of the sweat that’s been dripping onto his lips, as I enter his mouth, an explosion of Holds—the coffee he consumes all day, the mint from the gum he was chewing before we got here, and something uniquely him—hits my taste buds. I pull back and pull him to my chest. We’re both sweaty and gross, but he lays his head on me and snuggles in for a moment before going to change.

Neither of us brings up the kiss for the rest of the night, no more than we’ve brought up the hot as hell sex we shared. Holds still hasn’t told me he’s coming home, and I left the hospital for a while earlier so if the brothers talked about it, it was while I was gone. However, just knowing he’s staying, I have some decisions to make.

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