Page 31 of Lover
He shook his head. “No, Sis. Not yet. But given the time and the opportunity, I could be.”
“Then why the fuck are you here crying in your shot glass? You should be at the hospital with them.” She said the words like they were the most obvious choice, and he was an idiot for thinking otherwise.
Sighing he slid forward, stretching his long legs out and letting his head rest on the back of the chair. “Haven’t you been listening, Sis? First, I made a move on Rory, knowing he belonged to Shannon. Then I fucked up and didn’t do my job, so Rory got shot,twice. And don’t forget the cherry on top of my humble pie: Shannon walking in on me sitting on the side of the hospital bed holding Rory’s hand and apologizing to him for the aforementioned indiscretions. How could I do that to him Claire, to either of them? I know how bad it hurts to be cheated on. Technically we didn’t cheat, but the line is pretty goddamned thin.” He paused briefly, pulling a couple of deep breaths into his aching lungs.
“Shannon flinches if I move the wrong way when I’m around him, and Rory...well, he’s gonna hate me as soon as he’s awake for more than five minutes and hears I’m the reason he’s in that damn bed to begin with.” God, he was drained. “I’ve gotta go sleep, Sis. I think my body is shutting down.” He stood and stumbled toward his bedroom. Claire said something about a misunderstanding, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything aside from putting one foot in front of the other until he was close enough for the mattress to catch his body as he fell forward, out before his head hit the pillow.
***
Bleary eyed, he crawledout of bed the following morning, stiff as a board. He’d slept hard and long—damn near twelve hours—and needed coffee and a five-mile run. Settling for coffee and a hot shower, Rand was out the door to drive back to the hospital thirty minutes later.
Claire was there when he arrived, sitting in Connie’s lap, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls. Shannon was pacing the room, and Rory was gone. “Where’s Rory?”
Shannon turned when he heard Rand, smiled and walked over to him. “Hey, I was starting to think you might not come back.” Long arms wrapped around him, blond hair tickling his nose when Shannon laid his head on his chest.
“They took him down for X-rays or something.” Claire spoke, and it took him a second to put her response with his question. The lean body pressed up against him made him lose all conscious thought.
Shannon looked rested and was dressed in clean clothes, his hair combed off his face. He tucked the younger man’s head under his chin, inhaling the scent of lavender and mint he’d come to associate with the perky blond. “Why would you think I’d abandon you, either of you?” he whispered, refusing to release his hold on Shannon, even when he tried to pull away.
Leaning back, Shannon looked up at him. He was smiling, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes that Rand didn’t care for. “I was worried when you weren’t here this morning. And as the hours ticked by, you still didn’t come back. I thought...” Rand fought the urge to grasp Shannon’s chin when he ducked his head. “We need to talk, all three of us, but I know that this isn’t the time or place. I heard you, Rand, last night. I heard every word you said as well as the words you didn’t say.” Shannon released his hold on him, his hands pressing to Rand’s chest gingerly, not really trying to push him away. “I’m not making any promises or declarations, Rand, but obviously you and I feel something more for each other than just friendship. And from what I learned last night, the infatuation is mutual between you and Rory as well. And you’re right. Life is too short, and I think the three of us need to try and define our emotions instead of being pigheaded fools.”
“Ha!” Claire shouted.
“Shuddup!” Rand glared at his sister, growling at Connie, her hand planted firmly on Claire’s ass. “Do you two have to do that here? Show some respect. There are people dying somewhere in this hospital.” Both women fell into fits of laughter and Shannon giggled, gently shoving him away.
“What’s so funny?” Everyone fell silent, turning to the door. An orderly that looked to be about twelve years old and maybe a hundred pounds was pushing Rory’s wheelchair, the wounded man sagging to one side, favoring his wounded shoulder. His tone was ragged, sounding like he’d been gargling rocks for breakfast. Not wanting to overstep, Rand stayed put when the orderly slid his arms around Rory to try and help him back into the bed. Shannon sniffled, eyes imploring when he looked over.
“Let me help.” He moved quickly, grabbing the wheelchair and pulling it around, lifting Rory easily with one arm around his shoulders, the other under his knees. Their eyes met as Rand lowered him to the bed, the appreciation evident without words being spoken.
Shannon filled a small plastic cup with water, holding the straw to Rory’s mouth and he gulped it down. “Con, can you two give us a minute?” Rory’s partner nodded. She stood and took Claire’s hand, and the two of them followed the orderly out and closed the door.
Rory tried to sit up, to no avail, so Shannon grabbed a pillow. Nodding for Rand to lift Rory, he slid it under Rory’s head, both of them jerking away when the wounded man hissed in pain. “S’okay, just...give me a minute.” A few deep breaths and a cup of water later, some of the color returned to Rory’s face. “I heard you, both of you, last night. I was stuck somewhere between consciousness and sleep, so I couldn’t join your conversation, but I was listening. When did we talk, Rand?” Rory looked up at him; those fucking green eyes that had reeled him in from the start held so much hope.
Sucking in a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, smiling and shaking his head. “I needed to tell you that I was sorry for mauling you that night in the hotel, and it was easier to do it while you were unconscious, sorry.” He shrugged, not really sorry at all, not one damn bit.
“Yeah, right.” Rory quickly responded, no heat to his words. When he reached for Rand’s hand, then Shannon’s, it was surprising. “Shannon and I talked last night, and we’re in agreement that whatever this is, the connection that has drawn the three of us together? It should be explored.”
Smiling almost shyly, Shannon reached for his hand. They were connected for the first time, the three of them. And as tenuous as it was, it was still a bond, an unspoken understanding. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he fought the urge to grab the ugly hospital gown Rory was wearing and jerk his mouth close for a kiss. The need to taste him warred with the desire to feel Shannon in his arms again, the touches before void of the heat and promise that came with the fondness he felt for the younger man.
They both stared at him expectantly. Wait, was he supposed to say something? “Okay.” Rory and Shannon visibly relaxed with just one little word. Seriously, did he get swooped up in a tornado last night and dropped off in a fairy-tale land? And who would be the witch? The first name that popped into his head was Rory’s, and he couldn’t help it; he cracked up.
“What...” Rory looked at him like he’d lost his mind as did Shannon. “What’s so funny?”
It took him a minute to compose himself, wiping his moist eyes. “Okay, don’t get pissed, but this whole conversation is very surreal. So, I’m asking myself, ‘Who are these people?’ in a veryWizard of Ozsort of way. And I’m thinking, who the hell would the house fall on? Not Connie or Claire but maybe...” It didn’t take long for Shannon to catch on and start laughing hysterically. Brow pinched, lips pursed, Rory glared at him. “Sorry, but you have to admit, it’s the damn truth.” Rand smiled down at him. Rory valiantly tried to fight back a smirk, swatting at Rand with what little strength he had.
What surprised him the most was how easily the conversation flowed, the connection drawing them together already established. But he had to get the guilt off his chest, the poison seeping into the wound inflicted the night Rory had been shot. “Listen, I need to talk about the shooting, get some things off my chest or I’ll drive myself crazy.” Shannon opened his mouth to speak, edging back when Rand held up a hand to stop him. “Just, please, let me get this out, and then you two can dissect it and come at me.”
“Come, at you?” The hint of sarcasm in Shannon’s tone wasn’t lost on him.
Rory patted his hand. “Let him speak. It’s obviously bothering him, Shan.”
Jesus, I have to get this right. This could be a make-it-or-break-it conversation, Davis!Rand gave himself a mental smackdown.
“When I walked into your apartment and saw his hands on you, a knife at your throat, Shan, my fucking heart stopped beating for a minute. My sole focus was on getting you away from him at any cost. So when he lowered the knife and stepped away, I thought, ‘Damn, that was easy.’ But if I’d been actually thinking, I would have realized that all I was doing was playing the game Tuan Nguyen put in play when he got on that fucking plane in Washington.” He was pacing now, running trembling fingers over his head. Just the memory of the shooting made him nauseous again. “I wasn’t focused, at least not on Tuan, not like I should have been. I should have patted him down immediately, disarmed him, and cuffed him. Had I done my fucking job, you wouldn’t be in this goddamn hospital bed. It’s my fault, all of it. I was so distracted and, and...” Heart racing, Rand bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
Shannon was there, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, lifting him up. “You finished?” Exhausted and spent, Rand simply nodded. “Good.” Shannon took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, squinting at him. “My turn.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
