Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
T his was torture. Absolute torture.
When had he become that guy? The guy who checked his phone constantly in case he’d missed a text from a certain someone. And since when was that certain someone a guy?
Saint was a hot fucking mess, and he hated it. He was in his thirties, for fuck’s sake. Shouldn’t he have had his shit together by now, or at least have figured out his sexuality? Apparently not.
Instead, he kept thinking and dreaming about the damned fire chief.
Former fire chief. Being at home with nothing to do and nothing to occupy his thoughts meant Val was on his mind constantly.
It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d been at work because he’d have to focus on his assignment.
But being home with nothing to do but recuperate?
The first week Saint had been home recovering, he’d been happy to spend most of his time in bed sleeping.
Not that he would have been able to do much else, considering all the meds he’d been on.
It went by in a blur. He appreciated the guys at work taking turns checking up on him.
His freezer was full of delicious home-cooked meals, thanks to Red, who’d brought him enough to feed an army.
By the end of week two, Saint had been smothered within an inch of his life by what the Kings affectionately called “The Boyfriend Collective.” Personally, Saint had never come up against The Boyfriend Collective.
He’d been around long enough to see its inception and watch it go from its initial three members to six, the head of the Collective being Ace’s billionaire husband, Colton Connolly.
Before Gio got together with Joker and became part of the Collective, the Collective had decided Joker was a sweet puppy that needed feeding and coddling, which, quite frankly, Saint had found hysterical, considering the former Green Beret was the scariest and most volatile of the bunch.
But Joker had soaked it in and loved every minute, often using it to his advantage to drive his brothers up the wall.
The Boyfriend Collective was a force to be reckoned with for sure. They always got their way, and they’d set their sights on Saint. Thankfully, they used their powers for good. Even their meddling was done out of love.
Colton, Laz, Fitz, Leo, and Gio, in particular, didn’t care that Saint had been a SEAL or that he’d suffered worse throughout his military career. The Boyfriend Collective had been activated, and Saint knew better than to put up a fight.
Gio had insisted on getting him a nurse, at least for the first week, despite Saint’s protests that he’d be fine on his own.
Colton hired someone to clean his apartment and do his laundry.
Fitz “freshened everything up,” whatever that meant, though Saint had to admit the place looked and smelled nicer.
Throw pillows and cozy blankets had appeared on his couch, a vase of fresh flowers on his kitchen counter, and several outlets now had air freshener plug-ins with soft scents like Cherry Blossom or Summer Day.
An essential oil diffuser and several little bottles of oils and incense sticks had appeared on his dresser, courtesy of Laz, along with Epsom salt in his bathroom and little canisters of loose-leaf teas in his kitchen cupboard.
Saint had been a little skeptical of the teas at first, but once he’d tried them, he found them pretty tasty.
Leo had created movie playlists for him and filled his pantry with snacks.
He’d programmed Saint’s phone to remind him when to take a pill.
At night when he fell asleep, his TV turned itself off and a little speaker turned on to play soothing spa music.
It had scared the shit out of Saint the first night he’d heard it.
He’d been too out of it to figure out where the music was coming from.
It was sweet, but if Saint spent one more day in his apartment doing nothing but watching TV and eating, he would lose his shit.
He’d had a follow-up appointment with his doctor a couple of days ago and had been given the all-clear to resume normal, non-strenuous activities, which, unfortunately, did not include returning to work.
Though technically, he could have been assigned desk duty, Jay had called to notify him that King insisted he take some personal days.
Apparently, Saint had gone on long enough without taking time off.
Saint had never had a boss who wanted him to take time off.
“Are you sure he didn’t say anything?” Saint asked before stuffing a forkful of noodles into his mouth. His side was a little tender, but it was far from what it had been three weeks ago.
Ryden shook his head, amused. “What were you hoping he’d say?
Because you keep asking me that, and the answer hasn’t changed.
He gave me his number to give you in case you needed anything since you passed out before he could give it to you.
You were so stoned, man.” He frowned at the navy pillow next to him. “Are these new?”
“Bro, they’ve been here for three weeks, and you only just noticed them?” Saint snickered. “Fitz brought them. And I don’t remember most of my time in the hospital,” he muttered, which meant he had been very out of it. “Fuck, what if I said something weird to him?”
Ryden barked out a laugh. “Weird?” His eyes suddenly went huge. “Shit, what if you told him you wanted to touch his fireman’s pole?”
Saint almost choked on his food, and he smacked Ryden’s hand away when his asshole best friend tried to pat his back. The laughing didn’t help. “For fuck’s sake! Are you trying to kill me?”
“So you have been thinking about his pole.”
“Stop referring to his dick as a pole, you juvenile.”
“Still not denying it.”
Saint clenched his jaw, his face feeling like it was on fire. He opened his mouth when Ryden put a hand up.
“Whatever you’re about to say is bullshit, so don’t bother.” Ryden put his food container down on the coffee table. “You’ve been thinking about this and him for a while now. Since you met him. You’re questioning things. What’s the problem?”
Saint wiped his mouth and put his plate down on the table. Ryden wasn’t wrong. Saint had been battling with this since he’d met Val. Then again….
“This isn’t the first time I’ve had certain…thoughts about a guy. Of course, it never felt like this .” Like he couldn’t breathe, like he was on the verge of something life-changing but couldn’t quite figure it out.
Ryden didn’t seem surprised, but he didn’t reply.
“In school, I just brushed it off as my hormones being all over the place. After I married Alicia, I’d been attracted to a few guys over the years.
It was just….” Saint shrugged. “Easy to ignore, you know? That’s really shitty, I know.
Like, hey, I won’t choose to be bi when you never had a choice. ”
“First of all, ignoring it doesn’t mean you’re not bisexual.
Not having had a relationship with a guy doesn’t mean you’re not bisexual.
I’m the last person who’s gonna judge you.
Hell, I grew up in Texas and joined the military, so I get it.
It was easy for you to ignore because you were in love, happily married, and not a cheating asshole.
But what if you hadn’t been married? Can you say nothing would have happened with any of those guys you were attracted to? ”
Ryden wasn’t wrong. Saint might have wondered about the men he found himself attracted to, but he never would have acted on it. He’d loved his wife, and until she fell in love with someone else, he’d thought that was it for him.
“What if…what if I am bi?”
“I don’t think there’s a what-if, buddy.”
“Right. No, you’re right. What if I’m not ready to come out?”
Ryden’s expression softened. “Then you’re not ready.
Look, some people explode out of the closet like a glitter bomb, dressed in a sparkling unicorn onesie, waving a rainbow flag, and singing Lady Gaga.
Some people are more reserved about it. In between those two are a million other ways to come out, none of which are right or wrong.
It’s about you and your experience. No one gets to tell you what that is. ”
Saint nodded. He sat back against the cushions.
He’d recently had a similar conversation with Gio about how everyone’s experience differed.
Not everyone had it all figured out by the time they hit puberty.
It had been a confusing time for him, but he hadn’t exactly had anyone in his life then who would have understood or helped him through it.
“Come with me to Sapphire Sands tonight,” Ryden said, surprising the hell out of Saint.
“What?”
“You know. Club. Dance.” Ryden did a little shimmy on the couch, making Saint laugh.
“You’re such a dork. I don’t know. Besides, I’m not a member.” The Kings had company-wide membership since they held a security contract with Sapphire Sands, but the club was exclusively for men in the GBTQ community, so Saint had never registered as a member.
“You can come as my guest and decide if you want to register for your membership. What are you afraid of? That you might get hit on by a bunch of dudes, or that you might like it?”
Saint arched an eyebrow at his obnoxious friend. “I’ve worked jobs at Sapphire Sands. I’ve been hit on plenty.”
“Ooh, look at you, stud muffin.” Ryden squeezed Saint’s bicep. “I mean, what do you expect? You strut around the place with your big Navy SEAL muscles in that tight uniform, and the sharks are gonna circle.”
“First of all, I do not strut. Second of all, my uniform is not tight.”
Ryden hummed. “Okay.” He stood and stretched. “Well? What do you say? Might give you some of those answers you’re looking for.”