“Well, you know Keith was way more trusting than me. I’m not asking you to do anything wrong, am I? Tell me something about him; that’s all.” Jordan frowned into the phone as a vision of Lucas Conover came to mind. The man was attractive with his chestnut-brown curly hair and hazel eyes. So different from Keith’s golden-blond looks. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. What the fuck did he care if the guy was good-looking or not?
“No problem, Jordan. I’ll get the info for you, and maybe you’ll come over for dinner one night soon? I know Marie misses you.” Neil’s calm, unruffled manner brought Jordan’s thoughts back to the phone call and away from Conover.
“I’d love to. Your wife, aside from being gorgeous, makes the best eggplant parmigiana.” He chuckled. “If I weren’t gay, I’d steal her from you.”
“If you weren’t gay, she’d go in a second.”
They both laughed and agreed to a date and time for dinner the following week before ending the conversation. Jordan’s good humor remained, thanks to the conversation and his happy pills, until he entered the clinic. Nodding hello to Marly, the girl who manned the front desk, he smiled faintly as she hugged him and whispered, “I’m glad you’re back.”
Jordan suffered the hellos and welcome backs of the rest of the staff. Their excitement at his return touched him, but his reality was altogether different. Everywhere he went, Keith’s memory waited, lurking around each corner. In his office, he visualized Keith lounging back in his chair, eyes glinting with desire, those powerful legs spread wide, a seductive smile curling his lips. Love, regret, and loss slammed into him with a force so strong he swayed, then grabbed on to the door frame.
“This was a fucking bad idea,” he murmured to himself. “How am I going to get through this?”
“We’ll help you, man.”
He turned around to see Mike and Drew standing behind him, their solemn faces pale and strained. Unable to speak, he held out his arm, and Mike grabbed him, tugging him into a bearlike hug. Drew took his other arm, and as they’d done since they were kids on that playground long ago, they held each other, healing their hurts.
“It’ll be all right, Jordy. Every day might seem impossible, but look how far you’ve come.” Drew wiped the wetness from his cheeks. “Take it as slow as you need, but I think coming back on a schedule and keeping busy will help more than you know.”
Jordan desperately wanted to believe what Drew said was true. He needed to believe it because his grief was slowly strangling the life out of him. Realistically, he understood. Life went on. Keith wouldn’t want him to mourn forever, and he was young enough that he might meet another person to share his life with.
That was reality.
Emotionally, however, the thought of touching someone else and having another man’s lips on his made him want to curl up in a fetal position. The sudden brutality of Keith’s murder and the fact that he never had the chance to say good-bye or that he loved Keith crippled Jordan. But he couldn’t go on like this any longer. Only the knowledge that it would kill his parents stopped Jordan from swallowing a whole bottle of his pills before he went to bed at night. To think he was the one who used to make fun of overly emotional people, calling them weak and failures. Keith had always called him out on his cavalier snobbery and coldness.
For Christ’s sake, pull yourself together and grow a pair. You aren’t the first person to lose someone. Drew and Rachel lost their parents, after all.
“I’m going to try. I went to the financial adviser today, and we discussed the foundation Keith set up.” He pulled away from his friends and straightened his tie. “Have either of you ever met him?” A recollection of Lucas’s strong physique sent a wash of heat flooding through him. Desire and need pulsed strong in his veins, setting him back on his heels and unnerving him to his core.
What the fuck was happening to him?
Mike shook his head. “Not me. What about you, Drew?”
“Nope. Don’t see why we would’ve, either.” Drew stretched, groaning as he reached upward. “God, I think I need a massage. I had early-morning rounds at the hospital, then came here and had a bunch of girls walk in with lacerations on their faces and chests.” He grimaced. “A goddamn fistfight because one poor girl talked back to someone who called her fat. I’ve been stitching all morning.”
Jordan pushed his disturbing thoughts of Luke Conover out of his head and turned his attention to the files on his desk. The center had two young orthopedists who’d been hired in the past six months, and Jordan was impressed with their work as he viewed the X-rays. “These two are good. The breaks they’ve set are healing nicely.”
Drew cracked a smile. “High praise coming from you, who never thinks anyone’s work is good enough.”
Jordan twirled a pencil around and around his fingers to keep his friends from noticing how they shook. “Things change, right?” His smile stretched thin across his lips. He wanted a drink. He needed two. Anything to settle his nerves. Christ, he could feel his heart slamming so hard it was ready to explode through the bones in his chest. Before he forgot, he needed to refill his Xanax prescription.
“I have to call Dr. Meyers, and then I’ll look at whoever is here.”
Drew shot him an unreadable look. “Are you still seeing him?”
“Yeah. Once or twice a month now.” Better than the three times a week right after Keith had died.
“Are you”—Drew took a step forward, then seemed to think better of it and stopped in front of the desk—“are you dealing with it better now at all?”
Jordan watched Drew gnaw at his lower lip, and his anger escaped for a moment. “Sure I am. I’m learning to deal with how senseless his death was, why I have to move past my anger.”
“Who are you angry at, Jordy?” Drew’s pale green eyes stared unflinchingly at Jordan
He couldn’t do it. No matter that he wanted to rage, scream, and pummel his fists against the walls, he didn’t have it in him to hurt Drew like that right now. One day, there’d be time enough for the two of them to sit down and have that talk. Until they did, Jordan knew he’d never be able to resolve the divide in their friendship. It was his problem. His anger toward Drew over Keith’s death was another reason he’d been unable to move forward with his life. Up until now, Jordan hadn’t thought Drew had any idea what he was angry about. But the way Drew looked at Jordan right now? The time for that talk was approaching quicker than Jordan would like.
“Myself.” True as well, and a much safer answer. Besides, he really needed to get to Dr. Meyers and get another bottle of pills. He picked up the phone and, with a raised brow, waited until Drew took the hint.
Red patches streaked Drew’s pale face. “Talk to you later.” He turned on his heel and left with Mike.
