working.
“You two should get your own room. We’re using every inch of ours.” Myrna poked the five-inch strap-on against the back of Brian’s leg to remind him which inches they’d been using most recently.
Sed didn’t smile. If fact, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. Myrna didn’t know the man was capable of looking that miserable.
Sed took a deep shuddering breath and blurted, “It’s Trey.”
Myrna’s buoyant heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Brian sagged against her. She hadn’t expected Brian to need her to be his rock so soon, but she could be that for him. His rock.
Chapter Nine
The trip to the hospital was bad enough for Brian without him having to endure Jessica Chase’s presence in their taxi. Not only had the fight that put Trey in the hospital started because of her, the woman turned Sed into a complete asshole. Well, her leaving him had. And Brian was in no mood to be in the same country as her, much less the same vehicle. Perhaps he was focusing on his intense dislike for the woman—more precisely his hatred of the woman’s effect on his friend’s intellect—more than on Trey’s injuries because thinking about losing his best friend made him want to vomit. Or scream. Or cry. Or break something. Sitting calmly in the back seat of a cab wasn’t going so well for him.
A cold sweat trickled down the center of his back, and every muscle in his body ached from the tension about to destroy him. If Myrna hadn’t been gripping his hand, he very likely would have lost his mind.
When the cab stopped in front of the hospital entrance, Sed and Jessica hopped out immediately, but Myrna refused to budge.
He looked at her in question, needing to hurry.
“He’ll be all right,” Myrna said calmly, stroking the hair from his face. “I know this is tearing you up inside, but you can’t let Trey see you like this. He’s going to think the Grim Reaper is standing over his bed. You can fall apart later, I promise. But be strong for him now.”
Brian didn’t know if he could effectively hide his turmoil, his anguish, his fucking helplessness, but Myrna was right. He had to pretend to be confident that Trey was going to pull through unscathed, because the alternative was too horrendous to bear. Even the thought was crippling.
He nodded. “I’ll keep it together somehow.”
“I’m here. You can lean on me, okay?”
He nodded mutely. He wondered how she knew how much he needed to hear that.
“I love you,” she said, not waiting for his answering sentiment before she climbed out of the cab.
He’d really needed to hear that too.
Trey was in high spirits when they finally entered his room ten or twelve centuries later. The time blocks had probably been minutes, but each had felt at least a hundred years long. Brian pretended that Trey’s head injury wasn’t serious—grand mal seizures weren’t all that bad, were they?—and joked around with him only because any other action would have reduced him to a blubbering idiot. Trey hooked two fingers into Brian’s front pocket and clung to it the entire visit, so Brian was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one faking calm and collectedness. Brian managed to keep up pretenses until the brain surgeon shooed them out of Trey’s room and Myrna wrapped her arms around him in the waiting room down the hall.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“N-no,” he said. “I said it would serve him right if it turned out to be something serious, and now…” He swallowed the sob trying to choke him.
“You didn’t mean that, sweetheart. You know you didn’t.”
He hadn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d said it. And it had happened.
It had happened.
Oh God.
Brian crushed Myrna against him and turned to face the wall so no one would see the tears swimming in his eyes. He tried to stop them from falling, but his effort was as effectual as trying to stop the sun from setting. He did manage not to weep, by sucking air
“You two should get your own room. We’re using every inch of ours.” Myrna poked the five-inch strap-on against the back of Brian’s leg to remind him which inches they’d been using most recently.
Sed didn’t smile. If fact, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. Myrna didn’t know the man was capable of looking that miserable.
Sed took a deep shuddering breath and blurted, “It’s Trey.”
Myrna’s buoyant heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Brian sagged against her. She hadn’t expected Brian to need her to be his rock so soon, but she could be that for him. His rock.
Chapter Nine
The trip to the hospital was bad enough for Brian without him having to endure Jessica Chase’s presence in their taxi. Not only had the fight that put Trey in the hospital started because of her, the woman turned Sed into a complete asshole. Well, her leaving him had. And Brian was in no mood to be in the same country as her, much less the same vehicle. Perhaps he was focusing on his intense dislike for the woman—more precisely his hatred of the woman’s effect on his friend’s intellect—more than on Trey’s injuries because thinking about losing his best friend made him want to vomit. Or scream. Or cry. Or break something. Sitting calmly in the back seat of a cab wasn’t going so well for him.
A cold sweat trickled down the center of his back, and every muscle in his body ached from the tension about to destroy him. If Myrna hadn’t been gripping his hand, he very likely would have lost his mind.
When the cab stopped in front of the hospital entrance, Sed and Jessica hopped out immediately, but Myrna refused to budge.
He looked at her in question, needing to hurry.
“He’ll be all right,” Myrna said calmly, stroking the hair from his face. “I know this is tearing you up inside, but you can’t let Trey see you like this. He’s going to think the Grim Reaper is standing over his bed. You can fall apart later, I promise. But be strong for him now.”
Brian didn’t know if he could effectively hide his turmoil, his anguish, his fucking helplessness, but Myrna was right. He had to pretend to be confident that Trey was going to pull through unscathed, because the alternative was too horrendous to bear. Even the thought was crippling.
He nodded. “I’ll keep it together somehow.”
“I’m here. You can lean on me, okay?”
He nodded mutely. He wondered how she knew how much he needed to hear that.
“I love you,” she said, not waiting for his answering sentiment before she climbed out of the cab.
He’d really needed to hear that too.
Trey was in high spirits when they finally entered his room ten or twelve centuries later. The time blocks had probably been minutes, but each had felt at least a hundred years long. Brian pretended that Trey’s head injury wasn’t serious—grand mal seizures weren’t all that bad, were they?—and joked around with him only because any other action would have reduced him to a blubbering idiot. Trey hooked two fingers into Brian’s front pocket and clung to it the entire visit, so Brian was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one faking calm and collectedness. Brian managed to keep up pretenses until the brain surgeon shooed them out of Trey’s room and Myrna wrapped her arms around him in the waiting room down the hall.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“N-no,” he said. “I said it would serve him right if it turned out to be something serious, and now…” He swallowed the sob trying to choke him.
“You didn’t mean that, sweetheart. You know you didn’t.”
He hadn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d said it. And it had happened.
It had happened.
Oh God.
Brian crushed Myrna against him and turned to face the wall so no one would see the tears swimming in his eyes. He tried to stop them from falling, but his effort was as effectual as trying to stop the sun from setting. He did manage not to weep, by sucking air
Similar Books
