“I won’t.”
I believe him. I knock my fist against his bicep and take my tea downstairs. Sometime later, I get the vibe that he’s gone out, so I keep my head down all night waiting for the fluttering sensation that tells me he’s back.
It doesn’t come. I shut the bar down, buy my guys a drink, then make sure they all have a ride. After one last check of the building, I head upstairs, already knowing Jax isn’t there.
The empty apartment still shocks me, though. I shake my head at myself and go straight to my room, leaving the door open so I’ll hear Jax when he comes home.
I don’t mean to fall asleep.
“I’ve never been up here without snow on the ground. I forget how green Vermont is.”
I look up from the bag of information pamphlets I’m sorting through. Honestly, it’s the worst part of my job, carting a shit ton of dead trees up a mountain to lecture city yuppies on the importance of preserving…yeah, you got it—the fucking trees.
But it’s better than digging dead climbers out of avalanches every winter, so I’ll take it. And I like this dude. He’s a retired neurosurgeon with a childlike fascination for nature. It’s cute enough that I don’t mind ignoring the fact that he’s flirting with me. At least, I think he is. My last job was testosterone central—it’s been a while since a man last legitimately hit on me.
The presence of surgeon dude’s long-suffering wife muddies the waters even more. She doesn’t seem to mind the bromance he’s trying to start with me, but as nice as the guy is, I haven’t got time to humor him. Besides, he’s twice my age and then some. Wife or not, it’s not happening.
I hand out the pamphlets and give the group time to read them while I make the rounds, checking that everyone’s hydrated and eating their energy bars. Then we set off on the last hike of the day before we make camp for the night.
It’s a long walk, but the terrain is pretty forgiving. The summer sun beats down on us, and after three years in mountains far fiercer than anything Vermont has to offer, I can dig it. I push the scratchy feelings in my brain aside and focus on my surroundings. Vermont is my home state and there’s nowhere more beautiful. The air is fragrant and pure, and the romantic in me sucks in lungfuls of it, imagining it can heal a man from the inside out.
Perhaps it can. I came home with a gaping hole in myself I didn’t know how to fix, but out here on the trails I walked as a kid, it hurts less. I breathe clean Vermont air, lead trail expeditions and teach survival skills, and somehow, I forget the hole is there.
We camp for the night at a spot I’ve laid my head more times than I can count. Surgeon dude’s tent is nearby. He winks at me. I roll my eyes and turn my back on him, settling into my sleeping bag with my tent unzipped. Sleeping in the open is my jam. I like the smell of the earth and animal noises. It calms me, and I’m halfway to sleep when surgeon dude’s wife comes to find me.
“Vic’s sugar levels are down. He’s taken his insulin and Gatorade, but they’re not coming up.”
I scramble out of my tent and follow her across the camp. For the first time ever, Vic doesn’t seem pleased to see me. He’s a doctor. He doesn’t need me to tell him how to manage a condition he’s lived with for half a damn century.
He adjusts his insulin dose. His levels begin to rise. I leave him and wife alone after making them promise to wake me if anything changes.
My sleeping bag welcomes me back. I fall asleep hard and dream of golden blond hair and strong hands. Of a voice that’s somehow gruff and melodic at the same time. I dream of a smile too, one that makes my brain go quiet and my bones feel light.
The face the voice belongs to comes into focus. It’s familiar and yet brand new. I lean forward, sucked in by killer blue eyes and a sunshine smile. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can draw breath, the face changes. Chiseled good looks become an older man with a gray beard. And his eyes don’t sparkle. They’re wide open and empty, and his wife’s bloodcurdling scream wakes me up—
* * *
Jax
I don’t know what wakes me, but suddenly I’m bolt upright on the couch, every sense on high alert.
Silence greets me. I shake my head to clear it, but the creeping feeling that something is wrong won’t quit.
My heart thuds. I rub my chest, as if I can quiet it with the palm of my hand, but it jumps against my ribcage, and a sound I can’t decipher swivels my head to the dark hallway.
Takes a moment, but I remember I’m not alone. Tanner’s asleep in his bed down the hall. At least, that’s where he was when I returned to the apartment after finally escaping the clutches of Jerry’s fishing buddy, AKA the most talkative person in the entire world.
I start to relax, then I hear a muttered curse, and the raw pain lacing the single syllable drives me to my feet. Tanner’s bedroom door is open, and in the darkness I expect to see him asleep, like I did earlier when I came home, curled up on his side with his back to the open door.
But he’s not asleep. He’s sitting on the far side of the bed, hunched over, with his head in his hands. Even from this distance I can see he’s breathing heavily. That he’s shaking.
Reason tells me that he probably wants to be alone with whatever this is, but I can’t make myself do it.I can’t walk away.
I get to him faster than I’m prepared for and sit on the bed beside him. He doesn’t look up, and he’s definitely shaking. I don’t know what to say. So I don’t say anything. I put my arm around his broad shoulders and hold him against me until he sighs.
“Sorry I woke you,” he says.
“You didn’t.”
