14. Adam
CHAPTER 14
ADAM
“Uh… Huh…” After a few steadying breaths, I return to the conversation we were having before Hurricane Ava made landfall. “As I was saying, I’m a trained medic with over six years in the fire department. I’ve seen a lot of concussions and just want to ensure you are safe and?—”
“Adam, it’s all right.” Markus’s expression softens, and he smiles when he adds, “I trust you.”
Well that just blows my mind. He barely knows me, and while a lot of trust comes with the uniform I wear, this feels more personal. It definitely affects me more personally. I grin, feeling truly honored.
With a sigh and a slouch to his posture, he adds, “But I’m exhausted. Do you mind if I lie down for a bit?”
Oh. Shit. Right. Stumbling all over myself, I clear the path between Markus and his bedroom. “Of course. Yes. Rest. Heal. I’ll tidy up and make dinner a little later.”
Markus nods, stands with slow caution, and shuffles off to the bedroom, Rufus stalwart by his side. The dog presses against Markus’s leg like a guide dog steering his human on the right path. What a beautiful sight to behold, this man and his companion, and I watch them until they disappear into the shadowy bedroom and shut the door.
Then I turn around and stare at the kitchen-living room space where I’ve been left alone, not sure what to do next. In the end, I clean—my go-to stress reducer. My sisters are always trying to convince me to take my stress out on their houses, but in Markus’s case, it’s a pleasure to turn my nervous habit into something productive for him.
I clean every inch of the apartment, sweeping, scouring, and mopping it all. When that’s done, I go down to the clinic to leave a note in the window indicating that, “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we’re closed.” And while I’m there, I mop those floors too.
When I started, I feared I’d be snooping into Markus’s private space, but there is nothing private here. After a couple hours at it, the only personal items I’ve come across are a few pieces of forwarded mail with a College Station address. No photos, art, notes, or secrets anywhere. The dishes in his kitchen are yellow, and his towels are pale blue, which offers absolutely no insight into the man who rented this place fully furnished. There is a But First, Pray script on the kitchen wall, and I’m certain that came with the apartment too. Still, I dust it all the same.
By the evening, I have a stew simmering on the stove. It fills the apartment with the most amazing aroma, and soon enough it calls to Rufus and Markus to follow the siren scent and join me. Markus looks much better; that rest was good for him, putting some color back in his cheeks.
With a warm smile, he looks around at the place, then back at me. “You cleaned?”
“Nervous habit.”
“Are you nervous?” He raises a brow with the question.
It’s a very sexy look—especially with his sleep-mussed hair—and it does in fact set my nerves atwitter. I try to play it cool. “Idle hands, you know?”
He grins, then looks past me at the pot simmering on the stove. “Smells good.”
The subject change is a timely reminder to stop ogling him. Forcing my mind back within the bounds of our medic-patient relationship, I have him sit, then ask to see his stiches. When he nods, I pull up a chair close to him and carefully peel back the tape to take a look. The wound seems to be healing well. No redness or inflammation. I apply a new bandage from my kit, brushing his hair aside so it doesn’t get caught in the tape. The strands are so soft, and his skin is so warm…
Stop.
Turning my attention to my medic bag, I focus on packing it back up then stand and set it aside. When I return to the table, I bring the pot of stew, dishing out bowls for both of us. I sit in a different chair, the one across the table from him, safely out of reach.
Markus lifts a spoonful of stew up to blow across the surface before slipping it into his mouth. The expression he makes when he tastes my food is a sight to behold. I wonder if that’s anything close to the face he makes when he orgasms, because damn .
Stop!
“So your sister seems nice,” Markus says.
The mention of my sister takes me completely out of my nefarious thoughts, and I let out an awful noise, an obnoxious cackle. The sound startles Rufus, and I pet him a couple of times to assure him I’m okay. “She’s something all right.”
Markus nods thoughtfully and takes another bite. Rufus and I both watch but for seemingly different reasons. When he swallows, he asks, “What’s the rest of your family like?”
“Loud,” I answer with a smile. Markus smiles, too, but he remains silent, like he’s waiting for me to continue. And I should. He asked a big, broad question, and I gave him a tiny little answer. Frowning, I swallow the bite of food in my mouth then share some more. “Ava is my youngest sister. There’s Alice, Anna, Ava, then me.”
“You have three older sisters?”
“Yes.”
“That must be?—”
“Intense and nightmarish and amazing all at the same time? Yes it is.”
Markus chuckles at me, and his smile looks so natural, so easy. Damn, that little nap did a lot for him. He seems so much more comfortable in his own skin now, even as he smirks and casually mentions, “I’m an only child.”
“What was that like?”
Markus lifts his eyes to look at me as he considers for a moment, then he finally answers with one word: “Lonely.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing, watching him as he has another spoonful of his food. As he chews and swallows, his expression changes from something dark to light, like he’s preparing to lift the pall that’s fallen over our conversation.
“I’ll bet you’ve never been lonely a day in your life,” he says with a cheeky smile.
You’d be surprised , is the thought that comes to mind, but I don’t speak it aloud. Turning the conversation back to him, I say, “I’m guessing you’re feeling less lonely now, too, here in the nosiest small town in America, where the paramedics crash through your front door to render medical care you didn’t request.”
Markus laughs, and the sound is musical, a whole beautiful song of amusement. When the last chords sound, he pauses, and more somber now, adds, “To be honest, I haven’t felt truly lonely in a long time. After my parents had me committed for two weeks, they sent me to boarding school. That’s where I met my first boyfriend, and I wasn’t lonely anymore.”
I grin at the happy ending to such a horrific story, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I need know, “Where’s he now?”
Markus chuckles and looks away, running a hand over Rufus. “Last I heard, he went to MIT when I went to A&M.”
“The long distance thing didn’t work out?”
“No.” Now he’s fixed his full attention on Rufus, stroking him softly behind the ears. “I was far too focused on school. There was no time for a relationship in my life, especially long distance.” Now it’s his turn to ask the questions. I know it’s coming, but still flinch when he asks, “What about you? Any ex-boyfriends here in Krause?”
I can’t help the laugh that comes out. It’s a defense mechanism, a way to lighten the subject as I answer, “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
His brows raise in absolute shock. “But you’ve… I mean, you’ve…”
“Fucked? Yeah. I’ve fucked plenty of men, just no relationships.”
“Oh.” He blinks and his smile sinks a little. “Why?”
I can think of several good reasons to give him, but they all require long explanations, and that feels like oversharing. Which is absurd considering how much he’s shared with me. Still, the only answer I muster is a shrug.
“Hmm,” is all he says, but that little sound speaks volumes. He’s disappointed in me. We were talking and sharing, and then I stopped. He looks down at his dog again and talks to him now instead of me. “I’ll bet you need to go potty.”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s been a while.” I jump to my feet, feeling like a terrible caretaker for not even considering Rufus’s needs. “Don’t worry. I’ll take him for a walk around the block. You can go back to bed, get more rest.”
Markus nods, and Rufus and I watch him shuffle back toward the bedroom, the energy from our conversation drained out of him again. I set our empty bowls and glasses in the sink to wash when I return, find Rufus’s leash on a hook by the door, and take him out.
Sunset fills the sky with color: deep red, brassy orange, and feathery fuchsia. It’s beautiful, peaceful. And down here on the ground, it’s peaceful too. The town shops have started decorating for fall with pumpkins on their stoops and faux cobwebs in the windows. I wave at a few of the shop owners, realizing, maybe for the first time, how at home I am in this place.
Small-town Texas is not known for its progressive thinking. In general, it’s not an easy life to be gay in a place like this. Yet the people of Krause have fully embraced me. Still, I’ve never pushed the boundaries of their support.
My father betrayed me when I was ten, and Mom and my sisters chose me over him that day. Later that week, the people of this town chose me too. I know full well the reason for my acceptance here has everything to do with my Mom’s deep ties to this community. If I’d been a gay kid in a different family, how different would my life be? I don’t know.
Despite this town’s acceptance of me, I’m very careful not to strain that good will. And one of the ways I do that is by not dating in Krause. I can’t imagine the way tongues would wag if Krause’s only gay firefighter were to start dating Krause’s only veterinarian. I mean, sure, half the town has been actively trying to matchmake Markus and me, but what about the other half?
Back in the apartment, Rufus goes to the bedroom to join Markus, and I wash the dishes. When that’s finished, I sit on the couch, finally letting my exhaustion sink in. After a long, slow shift—punctuated with the nightmare of finding Markus bleeding on that county road—and my nursing duty here, I’m spent.
All I have the energy to do is stare at the wall, and soon I don’t even have the energy for that. I lie down. Just going to rest my eyes , I tell myself as I pull one of the throw pillows under my head and toe off my boots so I can stretch my legs out. Everything feels heavy. My feet, as I drag them up onto the couch, are like lead weights. With a deep sigh, I stretch and relax.
Just for a moment.