Page 12 of Digging Deeper

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, then.”

With a nod, I cross over to him and push the footrest up so his feet won’t drag, then I unlock the wheels and push him across the room. He throws the note from the giant plant delivery onto his bed as we pass.

After about a minute, Drix asks, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

My eyebrows rise on my forehead. “Uh… yeah, it was fine.”

“What did you get up to?”

I shrug even though he can’t see me since I’m behind him. “Nothing much. I mostly cleaned. Well, I spent the night over your brother’s house on Friday, but I left Saturday morning so I wouldn’t be in Holds and Jameson’s way.”

“I highly doubt my brother would ever feel like you’re in the way.” His tone is off, but I can’t tell what’s wrong with it.

To lighten the mood, since it seems kinda heavy suddenly, I laugh out, “Yeah, right. You know Holds moved out of my apartment years ago because we were driving each other crazy.”

He tilts his head back, trying to see me. “Really?”

“Yeah. Why did you think he moved across the hall?”

He shrugs. “I thought he wanted his own place so he could… take guys home or something.”

I snort. “I’m sure that was part of it, but it was mostly because I wanted to do things my way, and he wanted to do things his way. I spent the night over his place all the time, but we had our own spaces. Actually, I wonder how that’s going with Jameson. Holds isn’t easy to live with; I’m sure he says the same thing about me.”

Drix shoots me a half-smile, but we arrive at the gym doors before he can respond. I turn the chair around and back into the gym so I can use my body to open the door, and once we’re inside, I push Drix over toward the elastic bands that are attached to the wall. They’ll have more resistance than he’s used to and offer different angles than in his room. There’s also an arm and leg bike that I can push him up to when we finish. The machine can move his legs for him and offers stimulation, and he can cycle his arms at the same time so he’s working on a new exercise.

He’s pretty quiet while we work, and I notice he’s purposely not looking around at the other patients. I was hoping a change of scenery might help him. While he’s quiet, I examine his facial features, still amazed that he looks so much like Holds, yet lately, I feel like he looks different, too. I’m really digging that scruffy beard thing he’s got going on. When his eyes lock on mine, the blue really stands out. “What?” His voice breaks me out of my daydreaming.

Trying to find something to talk about, I stammer out, “Will you… help me pick… which dog to get?”

“I thought you picked one out?”

“No, I keep going back and forth, and then I feel bad because I want to bring one home so they’re not stuck at the shelter, but then I feel like I’m being mean to the other one, so… I don’t know what to do. I need help.”

Drix tilts his head and examines my face for a moment as I continue working on his legs before he asks, “And you wantmyhelp?”

I blink at him. Do I want his help? Out of everyone, he’s who I’m asking? “Um… yes… I mean, this dog is going to be living in your house, right? So… yeah, I want your help.”

“How am I supposed to help you?”

I grin at that. “I took pictures and videos of each of them to show you.”

“To showme?”

“Yes, to show you.” I shrug because I guess itisweird, but I really did take the videos so I could show him, and I don’t really know why. Maybe to try and connect with him on another level so he’ll trust me. Hopefully. At some point.

“Okay, I’ll try to help.”

I smile widely at him. “Yay! Thank you! Then maybe I can finally bring one home. Since Holds volunteers there and everything, he helped me get the process rolling already, and he told the owner of the place that you gave permission to have a dog, but I think you might have to sign something. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” I realize with a start that he’s a little breathless from working his arms so hard, and suddenly, I find myself scanning his chest and arms. And his neck… that’s dripping with sweat. I wonder what that sweat would taste like?

Holy shitballs! Why am I even thinking about that?

“You alright, Gav?”

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