Page 5 of Digging Deeper

Roger jumps back, as Jameson says, “Hendrix, enough,” in the hard voice he uses on criminals.

Gavin, however, calmly stands from where he’s been slouching against my bed. He walks and bends over—dear god, almighty, that ass. Holy shit. Those luscious globes would fill my hands perfectly. I bet they’d be like biting into a juicy piece of—I jerk my upper body back into my chair as Gavin stands back up and walks toward us.

“...so no worries, Roger. But I appreciate you taking the time,” Gavin says.What’s he talking about? What did I miss?

“If you’re sure?” Roger asks. At the nod of Gavin’s head, Roger doesn’t even glance in my direction as he hightails it out of the room like he was just freed from a hostage situation.

“Do you want to help me get him back in bed?” Gavin asks Jameson.

“May as well,” Jameson says.

“Wait.” When they both ignore me and go to either side of me, I raise my voice. I know I promised to chill out, but what the hell? “What’s going on? You’re not going to manhandle me without my permission.”

I look from one face to the other. Gavin’s expression is unreadable, but Jameson has an eyebrow quirked at me, his amusement clear. “Manhandle you, huh? Interesting choice of words.”

Before I can answer him, Gavin is dangling the resistance bands off of his finger in front of my chest. “If you want to stay out of bed and eat your lunch with your best friend like a big boy, then you have to follow my rules.”

I open my mouth to blast the cocky little shit, when I hear Jameson whisper next to my ear, “Your brother’s best friend. He’s doing this as a favor to Holds. Watch yourself.”

Instead of responding out loud, I yank the band from Gavin, and say, “Then what’re you waiting for?” I keep my mouth shut, stewing in how irritating Gavin is as he works my lower body. There’s still no sensation, but I’m so consumed by the slight, aggravating man bent over me, I don’t even notice that he’s worked through the whole routine until he’s done.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I grunt in response, but he’s smiling at Jameson. “You can tell Holds that we had a great first day. I know exactly how to proceed from here, and whether he wants to or not, we’ll have his brother up in no time.”

“Hellooooo!” I say, clenching my hands around the plastic handles so hard, I’m scared they’re going to snap. “I’m the patient. My brother isn’t my parent. How about you tell me about this great idea you think you have.”

An evil grin flits across Gavin’s face. “Easy. When you act like a child, I’ll treat you like one. When you start acting like an adult, I’ll reward you like one.” My apparently broken brain fixates on reward. A vision of him riding me as I fill my hands with those ripped ass cheeks… Shaking my head, I turn my head from him and whatever he’s prattling on about.

“So what’s for lunch?” I ask Jameson, watching his green eyes darken in annoyance at my dismissal of Gavin.

Behind me, I hear, “Child it is, then.” Gavin’s laughter follows behind him as he moves toward the door. “See ya tonight, Jameson,” is the last thing he says before I’m left alone with my best friend.

“Go ahead. Yell at me some more,” I say as soon as I glance at the door and assure myself we’re alone.

Jameson crosses his large arms across his muscular chest. A cocky smirk slowly takes residence on his face. “Na. I think Gavin’s got this.” He moves his phone around and pulls out the containers Holds sent for us with our lunch and begins talking about the gym. Huh? That was easy. We have an enjoyable lunch, avoiding the topics of my recovery and work. It’s only with Jameson that I could spend an hour shooting the shit without talking about either of those topics. We’re into all of the same things—with the exception of my brother,eww—so we talk sports and about the latest show I’ve been binging on Netflix on my tablet.

“Thanks, Jameson,” I say as he gathers the empty plastic containers together to leave.

“For what?” He stops what he’s doing and tilts his head.

“Giving me an hour to talk about normal things. Not think about…” I wave my hand down my body.

He plants his balled fists on his hips. “Not think about how you’re purposefully not doing your PT so you don’t have to know for sure whether you can walk or not? Or the fact you’ve been shying away from hearing any details about work?” Then raising one arm, he taps his chin with his pointer finger. “Oh, I know, you're thanking me for not pushing the conversation about your brother moving back to Baltimore and how much you resent thinking he stayed for me and not you?” My blood pressure starts to skyrocket as he continues, my pulse beating its own rapid rhythm in my temple. Jameson holds up his hand. “Dude, I get it. No one knows as well as I do how hard you’ve worked to condition your body. Which is also why I’m so convinced you’ll walk again, by the way. But your job and brother mean everything to you, and you have to be scared. Scared you’ll never get back on the job; scared that Holds will decide he hates it here again, and leave; maybe take me with him. So I get why you’re not ready to discuss any of it yet. I do get it.”

He leans into my space, his face right in front of mine. Needing the heaviness in my chest to ease, I tease quickly, “Dude, you’re not going to kiss me, right? I know little bro and I are twins, but you should really be able to tell us apart by now.”

His brow scrunches. “Drix, this is me. No yelling. No bullshit. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you. But your problem”—he taps his finger against my throbbing temple—“is here, and until you let us in and you’re honest with yourself, at least…” He stands back up to his full height, towering above me while I’m stuck in this damn chair. “There’s not space for too many more elephants in this room, partner.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat, wanting to say something, anything. It won’t matter, though. I can’t bullshit Jameson. He does know me better than anyone else. Everything he’s saying is true. “Oh,” he says over his shoulder as he strolls toward the door. “If you don’t want to squeeze another large, thirteen thousand pound metaphorical elephant into this room with us, you better figure out how to explain that to your brother.”

“Explain what?” I ask softly, still reeling from how he nonchalantly just called me out.

“How you’ve gone your whole life forgetting to ever mention, to any of us, that as long as it’s a nice ass, all ass is appealing to you.” As my eyes widen, he winks, and is out the door.Well, hell.

4

Gavin

Isave the most annoying, frustrating, grouchy patient for last so as soon as I finish with him, I can go home and relax, or maybe have a drink. Because I’ll need it after dealing with him. The past few days have been a test of my patience with Hendrix. He’s making me a little crazy, and maybe it’s because I know him that he’s getting under my skin so easily because I don’t usually mind the grumpy patients. Actually, sometimes I like them since they’re more of a challenge to get to trust me.

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