Page 28 of Slam Dunk
“Everything he’s had, we’ve had to force down his throat.”
A loud groan burst from Jathan. “Damn it, German! If you’re always going to be this big of a tattletale, we’re going to have problems.”
“Sorry, not sorry. You’re the one who has me listening at doors to make sure Quince is safe. He deserves to know you’ve been killing yourself like that’ll solve anything.”
Jesus. The guy was a busybody. Why had he let Quince talk him into hiring security? “Were you this big of a meddler when you were a bodyguard? Don’t answer that. Of course you were. You’re bossy as hell.”
Quince huffed, making Jathan smile. He had missed their banter with every fiber of his being. “Look, sometimes celebrities have to be told to eat. You tell me why you all won’t take care of yourselves.”
“I’m not a celebrity.”
Quince and German snorted at the same time.
Jathan growled. “If you’re going to be living here, you two can’t be ganging up on me all the time. It’s bad for my complexion.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
Jathan lifted his head again, worried he had played too much for Quince’s health. He was so much larger than life. It was easy to believe he was better than he was. “Are you okay?”
Quince stared hard at Jathan—like his insides had frozen and he waited for Jathan to thaw him. “What’s wrong? Do I need to get the nurse?”
Quince didn’t respond.
Jathan panicked. “Grab a nurse, German.”
“No.” Quince spoke loud enough for German to hear. He cleared his throat. “No. I’m good.” Quince lowered his tone, keeping their conversation between them. “Do you really want me to live here?”
Jathan realized his mistake. He had gotten so used to Quince being there, he had forgotten Quince had a life outside of him. A life he probably couldn’t wait to get back to. Jathan tried hard to sound normal—like his chest wasn’t caving. “Sorry. I guess I forgot for a second that I can’t keep you. You have a house you built specifically for yourself and whatnot. Your job is waiting. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Jathan rolled from the bed. He tried hard to hang on to his smiles. This whole situation with Quince sacrificing himself and Jathan taking care of him—it made things feel more intimate than they were. Jathan was more than a little embarrassed. He had warned Quince he got too attached to people. “Have you eaten? What would you like? What are the nurses saying you’re cleared to eat? Never mind. I’ll ask them. You’ll probably try to trick me into a steak.” Jathan walked away, moving faster than normal. He probably looked like he ran. “What about you, German? Have you eaten?”
“I’m good.”
Jathan nodded and kept moving. He couldn’t breathe. When he made it to the kitchen, out of sight, he covered his face. Jesus. What was happening to him? He pinched the spot between his eyes and took a deep breath. Quince was awake now and Jathan had slowed down enough for the stress to catch him. He stood at the kitchen counter and stared at nothing. It was okay. Things were fine. They were good. Perfect, actually. Jathan had no reason to be upset. In fact, he wasn’t. Quince was on themend. He would go home soon, and they would simply return to being a normal couple, dating. That was how this worked. He just needed a Xanax or something. Jathan had been wound tight for too long now. Too many things had been on his plate at once, wearing him down. He needed to just take a breath, eat something, and then this pressure sitting on his windpipe would go away. This was not at all a panic attack.
“Jathan.”
Jathan nearly jumped out of his skin at Quince’s voice. He spun. Quince was in a wheelchair. “What in the fuck are you doing out of bed?” He sounded so enraged, even he blinked at his tone. “Sorry. I don’t know why that came out like that. Should you be up and moving around like this yet?” There. Adult like, but not psycho. Maybe a little breathless, but Quince had startled him.
“I’d still be in bed if you hadn’t run away.”
He sounded so calm. Jathan felt twice as dumb. He wanted the last ten minutes back. “Did you decide if you want something to eat?”
“I want you to talk to me.”
Sitting there in his white T-shirt and red pajama pants with his hair all a mess, Quince was so beautiful and reasonable. Jathan couldn’t breathe looking at him. He sucked air. Jathan literally couldn’t breathe. It was like everything he had barely held at bay hit him. He bent at the waist and tried like hell to draw a singlebreath. Nothing happened. Only a loud, wheezing noise escaped him.
“Holy shit. German!”
In a distant sort of way, he heard feet stamping toward him. Everything went black around the edges of his vision. No matter how hard he fought, the weight on his chest wouldn’t let up and his mind was in full meltdown mode. Then there was nothing.
Quince couldn’t sleep. Maybe he had just slept too much in the past month. Mostly, his brain wouldn’t shut down. He couldn’t stop staring at Jathan or running his fingers through his hair. Jathan looked so peaceful. Not at all like a man ready to be committed like this morning. Quince felt helpless. That feeling was twice as strong since he literally was useless until he regained his strength. Now they were both down, and Quince wanted to scream.
They had been so happy this morning. Then Quince had to fuck things up by pointing out what Jathan said about him living here. He had been caught off guard—more so by the immediatedesperation he felt for Jathan to be serious. Quince had tried so hard to hide his hope, so Jathan wouldn’t feel pressured. He didn’t know what happened. Jathan just fell apart. That was on Quince in a thousand ways. Between the playoffs, finals, a stalker, and Quince almost dying while also leaving his own injuries untreated, Jathan had been doomed to eventually break down. According to German, Jathan was much worse than he pretended since Quince woke. Apparently, a guy had played extra dirty all through the finals, taking full advantage of Jathan’s injuries. But Jathan had been so on autopilot, he had just played his God-given talent and won while completely checked out. He said Jathan had barely eaten and only slept in short bursts next to Quince’s bed. No matter what anyone did or said, it was like he couldn’t hear them. He just stayed with Quince.
Thanks to chatting with Jan, he also had more insight into the Isaac situation. It seemed Isaac was a ball boy for the team. He had easy access to Jathan right under everyone’s noses. Isaac hadn’t stolen the sensor from Jathan’s car. It was worse than that. He had cloned Jathan’s phone and had even spent some time actually living in Jathan’s garage. The guy had problems, and Jathan had been the kind person that he was. It was no one’s fault, really. Sometimes people’s brains just turned against them. It was terrifying, actually. It was something that could happen to anyone. No one was immune. Part of Quince wanted to hate the guy, but he was barely more than a kid and that gunshot had done something to his relationship with Jathan. It was like they had been ramped up by a million degrees. The way Quince felt was almost ridiculous. He just wanted to be right here with Jathan until his heart was satisfied. Quince also needed to send that Steven guy a lifetime supply of Twizzlers.Quince hadn’t realized it was armed security that guarded the neighborhood. It made sense when he thought about it. Jathan wasn’t the only famous person on the block. Steven had just gotten off work but decided to make one more sweep of things. If he hadn’t, there was no telling how far things would have gone. Of course, that was on German too. It seemed he was the perfect hire.
Jathan had dealt with all the things alone. Everything came at a price. Quince fucking hated this.
“I wish like hell you’d given me five minutes to say I want to be here. Or you at my place or even buying a different house together? But yeah, wherever you sleep at night, that’s where I want to be too.”
