“Um, Phillipe,” I heard Everett say. My father and I both turnedto see him standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen. From the stricken look on his face, there was no doubt he’d heard what I’d just said about Nash’s childhood.
Fuck, things were going from bad to worse.
“Charlie wants to show you some of the recipes we found,” Everett explained. “She’s printing them off now, but I thought you might want to go up there while Gage finishes getting… cleaned up.”
“Yes, good idea,” my father said as he stood. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Keep the ice on for another ten minutes.”
I nodded and watched him go. He dropped his hand to Everett’s shoulder as he walked past the other man, but he didn’t say anything.
“What shit?” Everett asked. He remained by the doorway.
“I can’t tell you that,” I said with a sigh. “I already crossed the line once by invading his privacy.”
“So that’s what all that was about?” Everett asked as he motioned with his head in the direction where the fight had taken place.
I nodded.
“Why?” Everett asked. “Why would you do that to him?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t,” Everett said as he stepped farther into the room, clearly frustrated.
I got to my feet and turned so I could see him better. “He saw us last night… on the couch. Or heard us, at least. I’m not really sure.”
I didn’t think it possible, but Everett went even paler. “How… how do you know?”
“Because I saw him after you left. He was standing in the hallway by the living room. He looked…”
“What?” Everett asked when I fell silent. “How did he look?”
“Done,” I whispered.
Everett shook his head as his agitation began to grow. “Done? What does that mean?”
I stepped toward him and was glad when he didn’t move awayfrom me. I hadn’t seen him since the previous night, since I’d left early this morning to visit Reese and attend his first physical therapy session with him. Everett’s son was still saying no to the offer to come stay with me while his father was here, but it hadn’t been as vehement this time around. And now that he’d experienced the pain of his first physical therapy appointment, I suspected he was starting to see how long it was going to take before he was back to being able to take care of himself.
I stopped in front of Everett and studied him for a moment. As badly as I wanted to taste him again, not only was I in no condition to do so with my split lip and bloodied face, but I knew it was the last thing Everett wanted. Between the events of this afternoon and last night, I knew I’d fucked up any chance I’d had with him.
Just like I had with Nash.
“Everett, will you do something for me?”
He seemed surprised by the question, but nodded.
“When you see Nash, will you tell him I’m sorry and that I’m done pushing him? I’d tell him myself, but I suspect I’m the last person he wants to see.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?” Everett asked, his voice full of worry. “I tried calling him, but he doesn’t answer. He… he always answers his phone, Gage.”
“He’s coming back. Trust me on that.” I reached up to cup Everett’s face with my hand, since I needed some kind of contact with him. “Everett, I need you to do something else for me. The next time you see Nash, look at him. Really look at him. No matter what he’s saying, or doing. Just look. And then look some more. At some point, you’ll see it.”
“See what?” he asked, clearly frustrated.
“You’re leaving tomorrow to fly back to D.C., right?”
Everett nodded. “It should only take a couple of days.”
“I’ll keep you posted on Reese. Have a good flight and I’ll see you when you get back.” I began to drop my hand, but Everett grabbed me by the wrist and held my palm against his cheek.
