Page 47 of Constantly Cotton
They both nodded.
“So you’re going to ask Jackson and Henry for help,” Cotton murmured. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because the less we say, kid, the less we can be recorded,” Burton said smartly. “Now I’m gonna go take a leak and grab my duffel and see myself out.” He pointed a finger at Jason. “You may sit on the porch with a blanket and read.” And then, surprisingly enough, he pointed the finger at Cotton. “You may join him, take his vitals, and feed him. Both of you”—and the incriminating finger made an inclusive little circle—“rest, sleep, confront your demons gently, and fall in love in ways nobody will expect. That’s an order from Ernie to you. I’m out of here, because frankly, that shit makes me twitchy. Bye!”
Before he left he gave Jason one of those manly-man hugs, chest to chest, while Jason was still sitting, and then he disappeared into his room. A few moments later, they heard the porch door bang and Burton waved to him through the wraparound kitchen window.
“Alone at last,” Jason said dryly, stifling a yawn. “I think I’ll take my nap on the porch now, and if you like, you can take a hike around the lake. If we call up Briggs, one of the guys can come with you and show you around.”
Cotton frowned. “What kind of shitty nurse would I be if I—”
“Left me alone for an hour in plain sight while being watched over by one of the finest reconnaissance teams I ever trained? You’d be a sane one.” Jason’s eyes crinkled kindly at the corners. “Go put on those cross-fit sneakers in your luggage. They’re not hiking boots, but they’re sturdy. I’ll call Briggs.”
Cotton sighed and felt the physical restlessness that he’d been too exhausted to acknowledge in the last week. “I really could use a good run or walk or something. If you’re sure, let me take your vitals first and get you your meds and check your bandages. You’re right. I’dreallylike to move my body.”
TURNED OUT,Medina was the guy who accompanied him, and after securing water bottles to both their belts with some webbing, they were off. One of the features of Caples Lake was a great granite shelf that extended into the lake itself near the dock. Cotton wanted to take a look at it, to see if it was good for wading, which it was, but yikes! Walking on that thing in the early afternoon was like putting himself on a cookie sheet and setting it to bake. When they were done with that, they took a trail around the marina and along the water’s edge and walked in the relative peace and silence of the forest shade. They’d gone around probably half the lake before Medina broke the silence.
“So you were really just sort of lassoed into being his nurse?”
Cotton gave a brief laugh. “Yeah. Knew the right people, I guess. Didn’t have a job, and I can’t start school until next semester. I was pretty much the flophouse cook and maid as it was. That’s fine. Made me feel useful.”
“Were you really in porn?”
Cotton laughed, because he’d expected the question. Medina may have been all military on the outside, but he got the feeling that on the inside, he was his unit’s equivalent of Randy—his mouth always had a bullet in the chamber, and you never knew when he’d shoot it off.
“Yeah. Wasn’t bad.”
Because it hadn’t been, not really. Not when he’d discovered that sex as a commodity didn’t have to be cold and transactional. His first john—who never really gave Cotton his actual name—had taught him that.
“Were the chicks hot?” Medina asked, and Cotton couldn’t help the sound he made.
“Not that kind of porn.”
“Oh….”
They walked a bit more in the quiet, and Medina gave a hum. “Were you like that… you know, gay for the porn, or, you know. You like guys anyway?”
“I liked guys anyway,” Cotton said. “Some guys get in there and take some sort of boner drug and get it on, but I think you can tell who likes it anyway.”
“So all your roommates were…?”
“In porn,” Cotton answered, and while he’d once dreaded this kind of conversation, thinking a normal person wouldn’t get it, Medina was sort of fun. After Jason’s compassion and steady acceptance, Cotton was ready to hope for kindness a little.
“And you all slept together when you wanted to?”
Cotton shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes we tried to date. That usually sucked, though. Once a guy found out what you did, he either expected you to put out all the time, and no, or he expected you to bring clown cars and acrobatics to the table and, also, no, or he expected you to cheat all the time.”
“No?” Medina hazarded.
“No,” Cotton answered, surprised at it. He would have thought he had no sexual morals, really, but it turned out, with the exception of porn, he’d been true to every guy he’d dated.
“Why’d you do it?” Medina asked.
Cotton gave him the short version. “Because I got kicked out of the house for being gay, and I wasn’t qualified for anything else.” And while the words rang true, he remembered that Jason knew the long version and had just held him and told him he was sorry, and was warm and kind anyway.
“Why’d you quit?” Medina continued.
“It was time,” Cotton said, and again, the short version went to this cocky, fit young soldier, and it was okay. But the longer version sat with someone Cotton trusted, and that was important too.
