24. Stasi
twenty-four
Stasi
“ Y ou look closer to death than me, and that’s saying something,” Iris grumbles. “The damn reaper might as well be breathing down my wrinkled neck.”
Snorting, I help Iris into her bed and lower it to her preferred height.
I’m trying not to think about the fact that she’s only got three days of inpatient therapy left.
She’s mobile with a walker now, and while I should feel immense pride in getting her to this point, I can’t help thinking about how empty this place will feel without her sassy presence and unfiltered mouth.
Iris touches a cold hand to my forearm, drawing me out of my head. Her expression becomes one of concern.
“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately,” I admit.
I don’t regret spending my weekends with Liam and Beau, but if things are going to continue like this, which obviously I want them to, I need to figure out a routine that doesn’t leave me dragging at work.
Either it’s time to up my cardio at the gym, or I need to silence my notifications at night to keep Beau’s texts and selfies from keeping me up late. Both men are night owls, something I can't be with a structured job.
Iris waggles her brows at me. “Dating two men wearing you out?”
With a soft laugh, I roll my eyes. “Don’t know that we’re dating.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
“We’re…figuring things out. No pressure.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “How can I leave this place without certainty that you won’t slip back into your hermit ways?”
I purse my lips. “My hermit ways?”
“You didn’t have plans before these hot men came into your life.”
Technically, Liam’s always been in my life, but I won’t argue that fact with her.
“Maybe I never told you about my plans.”
“You didn’t have any, dear.” Iris pats my arm.
I let out a laugh. “You are something else.”
“And you are something special. Don’t you ever forget it.”
The hollow ache of loss expands in my chest. What am I going to do without Iris in my life? Yeah, she’s my patient, but she’s also become a friend. A good one. A supportive one.
“I’m going to miss harassing you about your love life,” Iris says.
It’s my turn to reach out and pat her hand. “My love life really shouldn’t be the highlight of your day.”
She makes a show of looking around the room. “You see any flowers in here? Any cards or visitors lined up at the door?”
I scrunch up my nose. I haven’t actually, and that makes me sad. I wasn’t on shift when Iris was wheeled in, but I haven’t noticed a single visitor in the weeks I’ve been working with her.
Eyes itchy and throat tight, I ask, “Where will you go when your time here is done?”
“Back to assisted living with the rest of the forgotten old farts.”
Her bony fingers smooth over the sheets of her bed as she pretends not to care.
“Would it be overstepping if I came to visit you there?” I ask .
She wiggles into a more comfortable position on her bed and shuts her eyes. “I’ll take it personally if you don’t.”
Giving her hand one more little squeeze, I fetch her a cup of ice water and turn on her westerns.
As I’m logging notes and reviewing charts at the shared workstation, my phone buzzes with a message.
I debate not checking it—I have a growing number of voicemails from both of my parents I refuse to listen to.
I made the mistake of playing one of them a few days ago in which I was being lumped in with Hail as a sinner if I supported his “gayness.”
Technically, he’s bi. And technically, they’re ignorant assholes who would disown me in a heartbeat if they knew I was dating two bisexual men.
It’s an inevitability I’ll have to face, but right now I’m playing the avoidance game.
After I skipped out on a recent family cookout, Max, my older brother, texted me to make sure I still had a heartbeat—a very uncharacteristic thing for him to do.
However, there are people I do want to hear from, so I give in to the persistent buzzing of my phone.
I break into a smile at the photo of Beau in the studio, his hair piled atop his head from running a hand through it and his dimples out to play. Liam’s visible in the background, leaned over his digital mixer, attention focused on whatever track he’s perfecting.
Sleepover at Liam’s tonight?
I might be able to pencil that in.
I go to set my phone down, and it rings again, this time with a call.
“ Two phone calls from Liam Beckner in one lifetime? I’m starting to believe you actually enjoy talking,” I tease .
“Mmm. I enjoy conversations with the right people.”
“So only me, my brother, and Beau?”
“There are a few others, but you three are definitely my favorite.”
A soft laugh slips free.
“We’ll see you tonight, then.”
Like I would say no to anything that man offered. “I’ll be there.”
“And angel?” His voice drops into a huskier tone that speeds up my pulse.
“Yeah?”
“You had better be naked in my bed by the time we get home.”
Hot blood rushes through me. I check around me, answering in a whisper. “What will you do if I'm not?”
“Punish you.”
I’ve got my keys in my hand the second the clock signals the end of my shift.
To say I rush out of work would be an understatement.
I don’t bother stopping by my apartment.
I kind of hate the place. I thought I’d feel better about it after shoving those unpacked boxes into closets to hide them.
Turns out the empty space just makes me feel worse about the fact that I’m nowhere near being able to afford a house.
Hopping out of my car at Liam’s townhouse, a loud bark startles me.
Brown eyes stare up at me from a fluffy black body standing on Liam’s grass.
He looks like some kind of golden retriever mix, but I’m no expert.
I’ve never owned a pet. My parents said they were too messy, and messes weren’t permitted in the Koval home.
Seems my brother has been included in that category now.
Save a spot for me, big bro .
Truth is, I’m the messiest of my two siblings. And when I finally summon up the words I need to say to my parents, I fear it will be a twenty-year hurricane of emotions I’ve bottled up because I knew other kids had it worse.
Liam had it worse.
My fucked up idea of family revolved around that core thought. I had a roof over my head. I had food in the fridge. I had clean clothes and school supplies. I had parents who didn’t raise their fists at me.
But now I understand that their support is conditional. It doesn’t matter how many smiling family portraits hang on their walls. Ugliness can still fester under the surface.
The dog sits down next to my shoes, his thick black tail wagging at an impressive rate. Dried mud clings to its fur like it’s spent some time rolling around in mud puddles.
I lower myself down to his level. “Hi, buddy. Where’s your home?”
The dog enthusiastically pushes its head into my hand, and I laugh. “You attention-starved, too?”
I’m not sure how long I sat there petting the dog. Enough time to decide to clean him up and take him to a vet to see if he has a chip. Surely someone’s missing this friendly guy. He’s too sweet not to have a home.
When I open up the door to my SUV, the dog backs up and whines.
“It’s okay. I’m just going to take you to my place so we can wash you.”
He lies down in the grass, wedging his head between his front legs.
“Okay. Shit ,” I mutter, glancing at Liam’s townhouse. We’ve covered it in mud once before, and he didn’t kick us out. Plus, he told me to make myself comfortable while he and Beau finish up work. Don’t think he meant bringing a random dog inside his house…but semantics .
Patting my thighs, I lead the dog around the side of the house to the back door where Liam keeps his spare key. “Come on, boy. We gotta be quick about this.”
I usher him inside, cursing as he leaves muddy footprints on the wood floors. Not sure I’ve ever been accused of making good decisions. I’ll speed mop later.
Nails clack on the floor as the dog chases me upstairs to the main bathroom shower. As I turn on the detachable shower head, he sits down and wags his tail, looking up at me with far too much trust.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” I coo, scratching behind his ears.
I give him more pets and encouragement as I wash him. At one point, while I’m reaching for the bottle of Dawn dish soap I’d snatched from under the kitchen sink, he shakes water all over me. Bubbles get into my eyes, and I have to take the sprayer to my face.
“Stas?” Liam’s voice echoes through the house.
Panic floods me.
“You weren’t supposed to be here when he got home,” I whisper to the dog. He simply nuzzles his wet snout against my arm.
I debate locking the bathroom door, but I doubt I’ll be able to sneak the dog by Liam when I’m finished cleaning him up.
Before I can come up with a plan, the bathroom door opens. I’m met with Liam’s confused face. I’m fully clothed, covered in mud and bubbles, hugging a random scruffy dog in his shower.
“What the fuck is that?” he asks.
It’s the closest to upset I’ve seen Liam, but even with the evident annoyance on his face, he manages to speak in his normal, calm, low tone.
I’m not sure it’s healthy that he rarely lets go. No one should hold everything in all the time.
“How did that get in here?” I say weakly, glancing down at the dog .
The dog wriggles out of my arms, covering me in another layer of bubbles. It pushes open the glass shower door and sits down in front of Liam, trembling with excitement.
That’s right. Win him over, boy.
No, I shouldn’t be thinking like that. With how well-behaved the dog seems, some nice family is probably missing him right now.
Liam stares daggers at the dog as it whimpers for his attention. “Why is this thing in my house?”
“I think he might be lost.”
Liam continues his staring contest with the dog. With each little tap of its paws on the tiles, I see him losing his resolve.
“Do you think he belongs to one of your neighbors?” I ask.
“Haven’t seen any of them with a dog like this.”
He lowers into a squat, reaching out to scratch the dog under the chin. The dog launches itself forward, and Liam ends up catching him in his arms with a grunt. I bite down on my bottom lip to hide a smile.
“Hello?” Beau pokes his head in the bathroom door.
The dog clumsily jumps over Liam’s shoulder to attack Beau with sloppy kisses.
“Woah. Hey there.” Beau laughs as he pats the dog’s bubbled head. “When did you get a pet?”
Liam’s gaze cuts to me. “I didn’t.”
Shrinking, I mumble, “I’m sorry. I’ll clean up. I was going to take him to the vet, but now that I think about it, there’s probably not a place open this late…”
Liam steps into the shower with me, ringed fingers gripping my jaw and tilting it up. “Don’t do that. Don’t ever cower to me.”
“I…” Swallowing, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
“The thought of ever scaring you… ”
I stretch up to cover his mouth with my own. “You don’t scare me, Liam. Promise.”
He pecks another kiss to my lips and stands up.
“I’m guessing we want this guy back in there?” Beau asks, barely containing the wiggly, soaked dog in his arms.
“I would prefer that, yes,” Liam replies.
Beau places the dog in the shower. Liam acts as a barrier for the glass door, but the dog seems content to run between us and bite at the water.
By the time we’ve got him clean, we’re soaked through. Liam peels off his shirt and drops it onto the floor with a loud smack.
“I vote for the dog to stay,” Beau comments, drinking Liam in.
I keep my mouth shut since I’m not sure I’m in the clear with Liam yet.
“Let’s go, dog,” Liam orders.
The dog follows him willingly out of the bathroom, and Beau turns that bright smile on me, water dripping from the ends of his hair.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Butterflies take flight in my chest. “Hi, Beau.”
He moves closer to wrap me up and kiss my neck. “We should probably get out of these wet clothes.”
Smiling, I step away and lift my arms over my head. Blue eyes glitter as he grins back, moving his hands to the hem of my shirt. Heat spreads beneath my skin as he peels it from my body.
He caresses me with soft touches and kisses before dropping to his knees and helping me shimmy out of my shorts. His fingers sink into the soft flesh of my backside. He tugs me closer so he can kiss me over my lace underwear.
Once I’m naked, I return the favor. Undressing him, I kiss every patch of vitiligo and freckle I can find on his body .
Pressed together, we make out lazily under the stream of water until it runs cold enough to have us shivering. Then it’s an all out race to Liam’s closet to steal his clothes.
And to think, weeks ago I was afraid of this place.
A shadow falls over me as I’m rifling through Liam’s dresser drawers for a pair of sweats with a string tie. When I look toward the source, my pulse skyrockets at the sight of a looming, half-naked, tattooed figure in the doorway, blotting out most of the natural light from the bedroom.
Liam’s expression is ominous. “No clothes.”
Beau gladly drops the towel barely clinging to his waist. I remove my hand from Liam’s drawer, prepared to beg him for forgiveness and a little tempted to ask if he kicked the dog out. Somehow, I can’t see him doing that, though.
“I was clear about my expectations,” Liam says, fiery gaze searing into me.
My cheeks flush as I recall his words from our call. You had better be naked in my bed by the time we get home.
His eyes move to the hand I’ve got clutched around my towel. Slowly, he walks over and tugs it free. Cold air nips at my bare skin, but I’m hot all over from the way he’s looking at me.
“On your knees, angel.”
Wide-eyed, I ask, “Right here?”
“Right fucking here.”
Swallowing, I lower my knees to the hardwood floor where I’ve left a puddle of water. Liam brushes his fingers along my cheek. Then he tips my head up so I’m forced to stare back into pitch-black, hungry eyes.
“Bottom drawer of my dresser, Beau. Take out the rope.”