Page 35 of Lover
“It hurts like a motherfucker.” Rory hissed when Rand lifted him off the couch. “But it was so worth it.” He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.
Pushing the bedroom door open with his foot, Rand walked around the bed and sat Rory down then flipped the lamp on. Trailing his fingers up Rory’s arm to the bandage covering his shoulder, he gently pulled the gauze away so he could thoroughly check the wound. “Shan, sweetie, where are the supplies for his aftercare?”
“In the drawer right there.” Shannon pointed to the bedside table. “You’re worrying me, Rand. Is everything okay?” Shannon was on his knees, peering over Rand’s shoulder, grabbing Rory’s hand.
Smiling, Rand leaned back and kissed Shannon. “He’s fine...don’t you worry. I just think that the healing process is taking longer than I would like. Maybe it’s the antibiotics they’re giving you, Rory. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow and ask him to reevaluate.” Before he was discharged, Rory added him and Shannon to his HIPAA release, so that the doctor and physical therapist could talk to them about his care as well.
Leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, Rory held still while Rand cleaned the stitches and dressed the wound. “There you go...all better.” Rand kissed him, just a quick peck, before shoving the supplies back into the drawer.
“Will you stay with us tonight, Rand? Please?” Shannon smiled over at him, reaching for his hand. They’d shared something new that night, become more intimate and secure in the relationship. Continuing to refuse to sleep in the same bed with them, regardless of the reason, seemed selfish somehow.
“Okay,” Rand agreed.
Shannon climbed out of bed, disappearing down the hall. “Where’s he going?” Rand asked.
Rory reached for him, cupping his face, rubbing a thumb over Rand’s top lip. “It’s his thing. He checks all the doors and windows, makes sure everything is off, and grabs us each a bottle of water.” Rory glanced over his shoulder. “I’m hoping now that the ghosts of the past have all been exorcised, he’ll be able to let go of the fear he carries around.”
“Hey.” He stretched out on the bed beside Rory, trailing his fingers along the length of the tantalizing man’s arm. “Being cautious is never a bad thing. Maybe we can let him keep worrying about keeping us safe.” Grinning, he leaned over and tasted Rory’s lips. A gasp pulled them apart.
“Jesus, you two are fucking hot.” Shannon flipped the ceiling fan on, setting the water on the bedside table before climbing under the sheet, sliding into the small space between Rand and Rory.
It had been a long day and they were all tired, especially Rory. It wasn’t long before he and Shannon fell asleep. Rand propped himself up on one arm, watching the two men for how long, he didn’t know. Shannon resembled an angel, his blond hair iridescent in the moonlight streaming through the window. Bathed in shadows, Rory’s features were sharper, more angular, his long black hair spread over the pillow like the wings of a raven. Simply put, they were breathtaking. How lucky was he that he got to call the two beautiful men in this bed his, that he got to love them?
The fact that he’d fallen for Shannon and Rory didn’t terrify him as it once would have. After the implosion of his relationship with Grant, Rand swore he’d never allow himself to get close enough to another man, to open his heart and take a chance on getting it broken again. This time it felt different, right...complete.
Chapter Thirty Two
Shannon
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“God...dammit, I fuckinghate you!” Rory shouted at the physical therapist. Shannon chuckled, filling the kettle and setting it on the base to heat, so he could make them some tea. They’d been back home for three weeks now, and the physical therapist had been putting Rory through the motions, the exercises meant to strengthen his shoulder no longer causing excruciating pain but still very uncomfortable, leaving him winded, exhausted, and oftentimes cranky. On the worst days, Rory would shout loud enough to raise the roof and Shannon would let it go in one ear then out the other, realizing how hard it was for his man—having to rely and depend on others for the simplest of things. Rand, however, was not so accommodating. The newest addition to their coupling, the man that made them a threesome, had a bark far worse than Rory’s and a bite that required stitches.
At some point while they were still at the hospital, Taylor, Frank and Taylor’s parents along with Connie, Claire, and Blair had cleaned the apartment thoroughly. All the dishes and glasses he’d broken on Tuan’s head were gone, new ones in their place. The mangled coffeepot and busted blender had been replaced as well and, much to his delight, there were three candles sitting on the counter waiting when they arrived at the apartment the day Rory was discharged. The fridge and cabinets were stocked, and the freezer held a dozen or so containers with soups, pasta, and stews that only needed to be warmed. Shannon had locked himself in the bathroom while Rand got Rory settled on the couch the afternoon they arrived back at the apartment after he saw what his friends—no, his family had done for them. He wanted to cry in peace and didn’t want to worry Rory when the man needed to focus all his strength on getting better, not on pampering his boyfriend.
“Hey, I’m headed out. You should give him a pain pill, so he can rest. I was pretty brutal today,” the adorable little twink in scrubs told Shannon as he left the apartment.
Two mugs were already prepped with diffusers holding Rory’s favorite cinnamon plum tea and a dollop of honey—local, of course. He filled them from the kettle, grabbing a couple of spoons before walking to the bedroom. Rory was lying on his back, panting, a tear trickling down his cheek. “Oh, babe. Here, let’s get you situated.”
Ever so gently, he helped Rory scoot back until he was leaning on a stack of pillows against the headboard. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, babe. The Bureau said to take all the time you need. Stop trying to make your arm work overnight. It’s futile and causes you nothing but pain.” Shannon fussed with the blanket before reaching for one of the cups, turning and helping Rory wrap his hand around the warm ceramic mug. When he held the small, white tablet between two fingers, Rory opened his mouth and accepted it, swallowing the pill down with a swig of tea. He sat with Rory, both of them content to just be in each other’s company, until the pill kicked in and Rory started dozing off. Still, Shannon sat on the edge of the bed watching the man he loved sleep for a while, thoughts straying to the man in the other room that he was falling hard for as well.
Leaving the bedroom, he pulled the door closed to give Rory the quiet he needed. His socked feet padded softly across the room to the kitchen, and he set the mugs in the sink. He didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the section of the floor that had been covered in blood that night, Rory’s blood. Shannon swore sometimes he could still smell the stench of gunpowder and copper, the nausea threatening to divulge the contents of his stomach. His feet carried him to the drawer where he kept the lighter, the same drawer that held his knives, another reminder of that night. Would he ever be able to walk through his home and not think about it? Not remember the look of anguish on Rand’s face when he first ran in, the shocked expression on Rory’s when Tuan unloaded his gun, two bullets tearing Rory’s flesh from his bones? The silver lining was watching Tuan’s body land on the floor, like a fucking brick, after Connie put a bullet between his eyes.
No, this had to stop. He was not going to allow the past to dictate his future, not anymore. This was his home—his, Rory’s, and Rand’s, and he’d have to figure out a way to deal with it. Staring at the hardwood floors, an idea came to him. “We can sand them and apply new stain.”
Rand shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his head. “Hey, babe. Everything okay? Who you talkin’ to?” Voice still full of sleep, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink.
“Sweetie, what do you think about sanding the wood flooring in here and over by the bedroom? We can add a darker stain—maybe put one of those long, thin metal strips between the kitchen and the living room.” He was thinking out loud, surprised when Rand agreed.
“Yeah, that could work. And separating the two rooms could make the space seem larger than it is.” Rand shrugged.
Clapping, he danced on the balls of his feet. “It’s settled then.” Rand motioned him over and he went, smiling when toned, corded arms wrapped around him. The kiss they shared was chaste, at first, until Rand swept his tongue into Shannon’s mouth. God, he loved the way Rand took possession of him with just a kiss. He was considering climbing the man wrapped around him when Rory coughed behind him.
“Is it my turn to watch?” When he turned, Rory waggled his eyebrows and whistled.
“Actually, I was going to start dinner.” Shannon turned toward the fridge, shrieking when Rand smacked him on the ass.
“Party pooper.” Rory pouted.
