Page 16 of The Chemist

“I’m not going to bug him, just watch him sleep and make sure that the machines are working and stuff.”

Diesel’s heart was touched. It wasn’t very often that people cared so much about him.

“Okay, Dr. Jare. Have a good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.” There was the sound of wet kissing.

Blah. Get a room, boys. Preferably not his.

Diesel watched as Jared slid his massive body through the tiny crevice between the door and the wall.

Why wasn’t he opening it wider?

Because he’s trying to keep out the light so it doesn’t disturb you.

Oh, okay, that makes sense.

Tiptoeing like a creeper in the night, the muscled brunette grabbed the comfy armchair from the far side of the room and carried it over to the right side of Diesel’s bed.

Was he…?

Yup. Diesel watched as Jared plopped his massive frame into the chair and checked the IV bag still hanging from its spot by the bed.

He must not have noticed Diesel’s eyes open. This was too much fun to ignore. He closed his eyes, leaving them open just enough to spy on Jared and his secret dealings.

His best friend leaned forward and adjusted the sheet that was wrapped around Diesel’s torso, pulling it up higher to keep his friend warm.

That was… sweet.

“You know, watching me sleep is psychopathic behavior,” Diesel whispered, scaring the daylights out of his best friend.

“You’re awake!” Jared’s face lit up as he leaned forward against the bed once again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m made of sandpaper.” The IV would help with his dehydration, but it would take some time.

“Here, have a sip.” Jared picked up the glass of water on the nightstand and brought it close to Diesel’s lips.

Diesel lifted his head and took a few short sips. He still wasn’t feeling right. Knowing him, he had probably spent the last few days mixing party drugs and drinking God knows what.

Fuck. He hated himself sometimes. Why did he do such stupid shit?

Because you’re trash, and that’s how people like you behave.

He hated that voice deep inside him.

Jared placed the glass back down before leaning back in his chair. He was dressed in a tight white shirt that clung tohis massive chest—no doubt for Isaac’s benefit—and light-gray joggers that, no doubt, were probably also for Isaac’s benefit.

“You gave us all a scare,” Jared noted, his voice calm and non-judgmental.

Diesel lowered his gaze.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Where did you guys find me?”

Giving Diesel one of the coldest stares he had ever seen, Jared’s jaw tightened.

“Some drug den in Paris.” Diesel cringed. “Judging by the state of some of the people lying passed out around you, I’m guessing they’d been there for a while.”

“Was Matteo pissed?”

Jared just stared. “We wanted to take you to a hospital to get checked out, but M insisted on bringing you home. He was worried they would arrest you or throw you into another rehab clinic or something.”

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