Chapter 2
Blaze
The apartment was quiet when I stepped inside. The television was off, as were all the lights. But I’d seen Jaxon’s truck parked in his assigned parking space, so I knew he was home. Which meant if everything was turned off, he was having a really bad fucking day.
Shit.
Toeing off my shoes by the front door, I flipped the lock, then headed for his room.
The door was mostly shut, leaving only a crack, which was his invitation for me to come check on him if I wanted.
Since his injury that’d ended his football career and his diagnoses, he’d withdrawn from everyone, including me.
But he still did little things like this that told me he still needed me, even if he’d never say it out loud.
I’d never forget when that fucking asshole tackled him in the goddamn end zone.
Jaxon had already scored the touchdown. He’d already dropped the fucking ball.
And that asshole had tackled him so hard, the entire stadium had gone quiet.
I’d almost vomited at the way Jaxon’s head had bounced off the turf.
And when the other player had gotten up and Jaxon had not, hadn’t even fucking moved, I’d nearly fucking collapsed as I ran as fast as I could across the field.
Hunter had to stop me from attacking the other player. I’d thrown my helmet aside, ready to fucking brawl, but Hunter had pushed me to the sidelines while we waited for Jaxon’s verdict.
He’d been rushed to the emergency room, and we’d had to continue playing the game like our best friend wasn’t in the hospital by himself.
Samuel, Hunter’s boyfriend, had gone for us, to be there for any news or in case Jaxon woke up, but I’d wanted to be there.
I was his roommate, his fucking best friend, for fuck’s sake.
Still, I’d had to wait. But I’d gone immediately after the game was over, not even bothering to shower.
Shaking that horrible memory from my brain, I pushed open Jaxon’s bedroom door.
He was under the blankets on his bed, his fan turned on to blow directly on his face.
Only the soft glow of the night light he kept in the room so he wouldn’t fall in the middle of the night offered any kind of light to the otherwise pitch-black room.
Jaxon used to keep his curtains open to let in natural light, but when he’d come out of the hospital, he’d had his sheer curtains changed for the darkest black out curtains he could get his hands on, unable to handle the light with all his migraines.
I made my way to his bed and sat on the edge.
He slowly peeled his brown eyes open to look at me.
The corners of his mouth were pinched with pain, and it made my fucking heart hurt.
Jaxon didn’t deserve any of this. Didn’t deserve the constant pain.
Didn’t deserve to have his dreams ripped out from under his feet.
“Headache?” I asked, keeping my voice low and soothing.
Since his injury, our dynamic had somehow…
shifted. We went from being two best friends rooming together, constantly spewing shit at each other, taunting and teasing, to whatever this was between us.
I’d become his comforter, someone who soothed him and took care of him when his headaches were too bad or he was having a particularly bad day with his vision or studying.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Think it’s a migraine. I’m having trouble keeping anything down.”
I frowned and reached up to run my fingers through his hair.
It used to be super curly, to the point he constantly had to put product in his hair to keep it tamed, but not long after his injury, he’d gone to get a straight perm so he no longer had to bother with it anymore.
He’d recently gotten it redone, so it was super straight now.
“Let’s try some broth and crackers,” I suggested. “You need to eat, Jax. Can’t be laying here on an empty stomach. It’ll just make you feel worse.”
He groaned. “Don’t wanna,” he mumbled.
I chuckled. “Too bad.” I scraped my blunt nails along his scalp, then stood, already missing the way he’d sort of pressed against my hand like he needed more. “Try getting a shower, and then put some Vix on your temples. I’ll go get some broth warmed up.”
I was spooning broth mix into the boiling water on the stove when I heard the shower start in the hallway.
By the time he finished showering, the broth was cooling in the living room, I had crackers set beside the cup of broth, and the TV was on South Park with the volume turned low.
Jaxon made his way out of the bathroom—shirtless with only a pair of low-slung gray sweats riding on his hips, abs and broad chest on full display.
I forced my gaze away and focused back on South Park, trying my damnest to ignore the warmth surging through my lower region.
I was straight. Always had been. And no other guys interested me.
But my best friend? Jaxon? I was strangely attracted to him and had been since his injury, like seeing him in a coma had made something inside me shift, which seemed really fucked up.
But maybe it was because I’d been terrified of losing him.
Maybe that was what’d unlocked all these feelings inside of me.
Despite my newfound feelings, I’d never tell Jaxon how I felt about him.
He needed me to be there for him. To be his best friend and take care of him.
Because while his parents had absolutely zero issue taking care of him financially, they weren’t all that great at taking care of him where it really mattered, which was why he needed me.
I couldn’t fuck this up.
“Sit down and try to drink that,” I ordered, jerking my chin in the direction of his broth.
He flopped onto the couch beside me and grabbed the cup of broth with an annoyed sigh.
I didn’t say a word, just let him have his tiny tantrum because I knew it made him feel just a little better.
He managed to drink the broth and hold it down, even stomaching a few crackers.
And then, surprising the fuck out of me, he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapped it around himself, and rested his head on my shoulder.
I swallowed thickly, the scent of him—spice and eucalyptus—infiltrating my nostrils, along with the strong scent of Vix.
“You okay?” I quietly asked.
He nodded. “This may be weird, but your cologne helps my headache.”
Be still, my fucking heart.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and shifted so we were both a little more comfortable. “Okay,” I said simply. “Stay here as long as you need then.” Even if it damn near fucking kills me.