Chapter 29
“Don’t you have a job?” Jamie teased as he adjusted his plinth back into place. JB hovered against the far wall, glaring at him.
“I do have a job,” he replied coolly, “but I cannot do that job if I am worried sick about you.”
A dismissive psh worked its way out of Jamie’s throat. “I was only an hour late for work, chéri.” The French word sounded a bit like Jamie had choked on his spit. “Also, does my plinth look like it’s been touched?”
Tilting his head side to side, he studied the little marble pedestal. The exhibit was only a few weeks away, and everything needed to be perfect for the staff run-through. Running a hand through his curls, Jamie stood and stretched his legs.
Leaning back and eyeing the plinth again, he nodded to himself. “Clarence definitely fiddled with it—”
“No one touched your fucking plinth!” JB’s tone snapped Jamie’s attention away from the exhibit. JB never raised his voice like that.
Why was he so upset? Sure, he’d rushed in late, stashed his bike, and immediately gotten to work on the display. There wasn’t much time left before the exhibit opened, and, as a curator himself, JB surely understood that.
Clearly, though, the man was miffed. His handsome, usually smiling face was pulled into a deep frown, and his suit looked wrinkled.
Jamie turned fully toward him. “Jean-Baptiste… are you really this upset that I was late?” JB dragged a palm down his face, muttering a curse in French.
“Use your head, chéri.” When he lowered his hand, his eyes were red.
Jamie’s heart dropped. “JB, what—?”
JB stormed forward and yanked out his mobile. “Have you even checked your phone?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Or what you’ve put your man through?” A sharp pang of guilt shot through Jamie.
“Well, I—” He patted his pockets and looked around. “I came straight here, I didn’t think—”
“Exactly. You did not think.”
Oh God. Of course JB would be worried about his first day riding his bike to work and showing up late. And Caleb. He’d asked Jamie to share his location, but he hadn’t thought—
“Fuck, Jean-Baptiste. I’m so sorry,” Jamie rushed out, realization dawning on him like ice water. “I’m a bloody idiot.” Turning toward the bench where he’d dropped his briefcase, he dug around for his mobile.
“Fuck.” Four texts from Caleb. Three missed calls.
Caleb:
J, why are you Tottenham Ct still? Did you stop?
Worried about you. Why aren’t you at work yet?
Can you call me?
Talked to JB. He said you got in. Have a good day at work.
The ball of guilt in Jamie’s stomach doubled in size. This was precisely the last thing Caleb needed right now, between work and the drama with his father. The two of them had been up until midnight, Caleb on the phone with his sister Bri about flying back to the States.
And then Jamie had to go and make him worry all morning, like a dumbarse. He stared at the screen, thumbs hovering uselessly over the keyboard. After a moment, he lowered the phone and turned back to JB.
“You talked to Caleb?” Jamie asked softly.
JB nodded, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’m so sorry, mate.” He walked over and placed a hand on JB’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just…” His voice wobbled.
JB’s eyes softened immediately. “Tell me what happened, Jamie.”
Fucking hell, JB always knew everything.
“I sort of… freaked out. On my bike,” he explained through the lump in his throat. A crease formed between JB’s brows. “I was fine at first, up until…”
“Tottenham,” JB finished quietly.
Jamie nodded. Saying that he ‘sort of freaked out’ was a gross understatement. Jamie nearly had a panic attack on the side of the road.
“I just—I was so excited to get back on the road, you know? I love biking.”
“I know,” JB murmured softly.
“Caleb bought me the perfect bike, and I thought I could handle it, but…” Tears burned behind his eyes as JB’s hand squeezed his shoulder.
“It is okay, my friend. It is okay.” He tugged off his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms into them. The familiar scent of JB’s fancy cologne surrounded him as he was pulled into a hug. Before he knew it, the dam in his chest burst.
Jamie sobbed into JB’s perfectly tailored suit in the middle of the museum exhibit. As his shoulders shook, JB said gently, “It will not always be like this. You took the first step, and that was very brave. Your body is still adjusting, yes?”
“I thought the adjustments were over,” Jamie hiccupped miserably.
“There will always be challenges.” JB brought a hand to the back of his head. “But there will always be friends here to help you through them.”
Jamie managed a weak smile against his shoulder, but it quickly faded. He pulled back slightly.
“Ugh, JB? Can you… not tell Caleb?”
JB frowned. “I already spoke to him. I told him you arrived safely.”
“Right, but… can you not tell him I freaked out?” Jamie wiped his glasses clean and slid them back onto his nose. “I don’t want him worrying. He’ll want me to stop biking, and I really want to work through this.”
JB eyed him skeptically. “I will not say anything,” he said slowly, “unless I am asked directly.”
Jamie nodded. That was good enough. The tension finally drained from JB’s shoulders, but Jamie still felt terrible for worrying both him and Caleb.
“Want to go to the museum café for a coffee?” he offered in a transparent attempt to make amends. JB rolled his eyes and headed for the door.
“The very least you can do is buy me an espresso,” he said dryly. “Making me worry like a mother hen.”
Jamie grabbed his bag and hurried after him. Over his shoulder, JB added, “Oh…and Clarence definitely moved that plinth.”
Jamie threw his hands up. “I knew it!”
Over the next few hours, JB helped Jamie set up the exhibit and make it absolutely perfect.
With a quick text to Caleb that he was leaving in the next hour, the two of them went back to their office to snatch up their things and walked out of the museum together.
As always, they took their time and chatted, maneuvering the museum crowds to finally reach the Staff Only exit.
Once outside, JB hiked his designer bag up his shoulder with a hesitant smile, eyes flicking to where Jamie’s hands were unlocking his bike.
“Want to walk to the Tube together?”
“No, it’s alright.” Jamie glanced at the path leading to the motorway. Traffic wasn’t too bad yet.
“I’m going to…” He indicated his bike with his eyebrows, making JB frown. Deciding this wasn’t a battle he was going to win, JB pulled out his phone and waved it at Jamie.
“Call me if you need me.”
Jamie grunted a thanks and plopped his helmet on his head before mounting his bike. The moment he straddled the seat, his heart rate kicked up. “Pull it together, Jamie,” he muttered angrily to himself. He stood like that, helmet on but going nowhere, for who knows how long.
Caleb crossed the room to grab the resistance bands Sally had used and stopped short when he realized they weren’t there. He stood there for a second, staring at the empty space.
“Caleb?” Angie called from the floor where she was doing calf exercises. “What are you looking for?”
“Uh—sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to the equipment bin. Apparently, he’d already put them away.
This was usually his favorite time of the day—after practice when everyone cleared out except the few women he was working with on recovery.
After his session with Sally, Ang had come in to do her exercises.
It was a nice routine, giving him extra time to catch up with them and organize the equipment room.
Today, he just stared at the rack of tape and foam rollers for a long moment before deciding it could wait until tomorrow. Feeling Angie’s gaze on his back, he walked over and settled at his desk. It had been a while since Caleb had felt this exhausted.
In college, he’d pulled a few all-nighters, which obviously wasn’t great.
And when Jamie was in the hospital, he’d probably averaged about two hours of sleep every night.
But that type of exhaustion had led to hypervigilance—Caleb had been go go go when Jamie got out of the hospital, making sure he had everything he needed, making every appointment, and was comfortable.
This felt different. It was like his brain had forgotten how to focus on a thought for more than thirty seconds. And when something did stick, his mind turned it into the worst possible scenario.
Sitting at his desk, Caleb stared down at the piece of paper in front of him. A training plan that he owed Sally for the pain she’d been having in her back. He’d made practically no progress on it.
Glancing across the room, he saw Angie lying on the exercise mat with her phone in her hand.
“Are you doing your exercises, Ang?” he called. “Or are you texting that hot cricket player?”
Angie rolled her eyes, and Caleb immediately recognized where Freya got that facial expression.
Returning his attention to his desk—deciding that he probably wouldn’t be making much headway on this training plan today—he pulled out his phone.
Like a fucking weirdo, he pulled up Jamie’s location.
The tiny J blinked at him from the British Library, indicating that Jamie was, in fact, at work.
Because why wouldn’t he be at work? It was fucking Tuesday.
Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push down the thoughts that immediately followed. What if he doesn’t make it home? What if the bike malfunctions?
He’d never dealt with this kind of anxiety before, and he had no fucking clue how to manage it.
His heart softened at the message from Jamie, apologizing for worrying him.
Notably absent was any explanation for why he’d been late.
Dread curled in his stomach as he pulled up the text thread with Bri.
Bri
The doctor’s confirmed it’s stage four. Dad’s refusing chemo.
Jesus fuck. Of course his father was refusing chemo. He had never met a doctor he trusted and had fought his mother tooth and nail when she’d gotten the kids vaccinated.
He typed back