12. LUCAS #2
“I...I’m not sure which part of that to address first,” he admitted, moving to check the AED. “Start with why this has been going on for more than a whole week and this is the first you’re mentioning it to me.”
I packed the jump kit back into its cabinet and started checking the glove supply. “I don’t tell you everything, you know. Some things are private.”
“No,” he said firmly. “Nothing is private when it’s something to do with you hooking up with your hot roommate. But forget that. Tell daddy what ‘everything’ you’ve been doing.”
I threw a glove at him. “What part of ‘everything’ isn’t clear?”
“Has he rimmed you?”
I blinked. “Ok fine, not literally everything. But pretty much everything besides rimming.”
“I’ll allow it,” he announced. “So if you’ve been getting laid regularly, where’s the problem? Sounds like your life is pretty good.”
I sighed. It was pretty good, until I started fucking thinking. Then it all went to shit. “What if,” I asked, glancing over my shoulder, “I wanted more than to just get laid?”
Rufus gasped loudly. “Oh my god you caught feelings!”
“Shut up!” I hissed. “But...maybe.”
“Oh, my sweet summer child.” He threw an arm around my shoulders, startling me. I hadn’t heard him approach. “The first rule of hookup club is that you don’t catch feelings. You especially don’t catch feelings for someone who’s transient. And your boy, my friend, is transient. Once he gets a job -”
“He’s still got the one he moved here for. And he’s working now.”
“Since he’s got a job,” he went on smoothly without acknowledging my correction, “he’ll be saving up money and then he’ll be out of there before you know it.”
“But -”
“Let me ask you this,” he interrupted. “How does he feel about you?”
I sighed and plopped down on the ambulance’s bench seat. “I have no idea. He...he kissed me this morning.”
He blinked at me. “And this is...unusual? I would have assumed that kissing is covered by your ‘everything’.”
Fucking joker. I gave him the finger. “It is. But this wasn’t, like, a hot kiss. It was an affectionate kiss.”
“How do you figure?”
I tried to think about how to explain how I knew it had been different. “He was leaving the room to start work,” I started slowly, “and he, like...leaned over and pecked me on the lips on his way out. No tongue, no chance of us having sex right then, nothing.”
“Hmm.” He tapped his chin with one finger thoughtfully. “And he’s never done this before?”
I shook my head. “I mean, we’ve kissed without immediately having sex before, but not just...as a casual hello or goodbye. Isn’t that more of a relationship thing?”
“Could be, could be,” he allowed. “Or maybe it was just an awkward moment. There’s really no way to know. Except if you…” He glanced sideways at me meaningfully.
“What?” And then it hit me. “No. Nope. I’m not having The Talk with him.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if it was just a...a thing? And he didn’t mean anything by it?”
He shrugged. “Then wouldn’t it be better to know that?”
“No!” Rufus raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me, demanding an explanation.
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
“If I don’t know for sure that he’s not interested in more, then I won’t be uncomfortable around him.
If he has to actually tell me he doesn’t want me, then we’re both going to be hella awkward for the rest of his time at my place. ”
“That…” He pried one of my hands away and started again. “That, my friend, is some weak-ass bullshit.”
“Gee, Ruf, tell me how you really feel.”
“That is how I feel,” he said placidly. “Either grow some balls and ask the guy out if you want him, or else break things off. You can’t just hang out in no man’s land forever.”
“I totally can,” I protested. “Watch me.”
He sighed heavily and sat down next to me. “Look, man, you make your own decisions. You’re an adult. But I’m telling you, you’re just going to start resenting him if you let your feelings keep growing and let him take advantage of that without giving you any of the benefits.”
“But he’s not taking advantage of me. He has no idea any of this is going on!”
“Doesn’t he?” he asked pointedly. “Because I gotta tell you, my dude, you are not the actor you seem to think you are.”
“Fuck.” I yanked the elastic out of my hair, shook the mass out, and started braiding it behind my head to keep my hands busy. “You think he knows?”
He shrugged. “I think it depends on whether he’s in his head about all this too. If he hasn’t got any feelings for you? Decent chance he knows. If he’s having the same freak out as you are, though, he’s probably just as oblivious as you.”
“Fuck,” I said again and dragged my fingers through the braid I’d just made, unraveling it.
He patted my shoulder consolingly. “I still think you should talk to him.”
I started braiding again. “I can’t just -” Before I could finish my thought, the shrill sound of our dispatch tones rang through the garage. Rufus slammed the rig check checklist into a drawer and we both jumped out of the back of the ambulance, heading for the front and whatever our call was.
***
I slogged into the apartment at 4:45 in the morning, my hair still half-wet from my post-shift shower.
It had been a slow night, which was both a blessing and a curse: blessing, because a night when we weren’t running nonstop was always a pleasure; curse, because it meant I had plenty of time to think in circles about Rufus urging me to tell Max how I felt.
I should dry my hair, but I decided I didn’t give enough of a fuck.
I’d sleep on it wet and just wet it down in the morning to get the poofiness out.
I stepped out of my shoes and yanked off my shirt as I walked down the hall, fed up with being clothed and with this day and with literally everything.
If I fell asleep quickly, I’d be able to get a good eight hours before I had to be up to take Max to his appointment.
Too bad I was too tired to be tired. Fuck my life.
By the time I got to my bedroom, I had my pants off, them and my shirt balled up in my hands, and was ready to faceplant into bed and toss and turn for a few hours before probably finally passing out around the time Max woke up. Yet another day of fucked-up scheduling. Sometimes I hated my job.
I opened the bedroom door and stomped inside, chucking my clothes in the hamper as I went, and then stopped short.
Max was asleep in my bed, his lax face looking angelic in the moonlight.
A breath stuttered out of me. He was beautiful.
Why was he in my bed? On nights when I was on shift, we usually slept in our own beds so we didn’t disturb each other.
Don’t read too much into it, Lucas, I told myself. It could mean anything or nothing.
Moving more quietly now that I wanted to be sure not to wake him up, I picked up the edge of the covers and slipped under them, stretching my whole body at the pleasure of being off my feet. I lay facing Max, allowing myself to take this chance to study his face, and smiled gently.
“Mmm.” Without opening his eyes, he tucked his head under my chin and snuggled up to me. “Hi.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you up,” I whispered, lifting a hand to touch his shoulder.
“You didn’t,” he mumbled into my shoulder. “‘M still asleep.”
I laughed quietly. He was not only beautiful, he was adorable. “Go back to sleep, love.” Fuck, what had I just said? I caught my breath sharply, but he didn’t react, already starting to snore quietly again. Bullet dodged.
I lay there for another two hours, my head spinning and my hopes high that he hadn’t heard me before he’d dropped back off to sleep.
Oh god, I really was going to need to talk to him, wasn’t I? Rufus would laugh his ass off when I told him he’d been right. Maybe I could put it off for a while longer. I wanted to enjoy this...thing...for as long as I could before reality came crashing in.