His Best Man

by Elle Keaton

  “That’d be great,” he managed to grind out.

  At some point someone had dropped off street clothes so Rod wouldn’t have to leave St. Joe’s in a hospital gown. He felt like an old man needing help to put on the loose cotton shorts, T-shirt, and zip-up hoodie, but finally he was dressed. The doctor had already signed his discharge papers, and Rod had listened carefully to the instructions from the physical therapist.

  “Tell me about this house you helped Travis find,” Rod demanded.

  Cameron grinned again. “It’s near downtown, about six blocks from the Booking Room. Another friend knew about it, so me and Trav got first dibs looking at it. It’s pretty small, but two bedrooms, single bath, the kitchen was redone a few years ago, and it has a huge backyard. Oh, and a full basement.”

  “And why is Travis going to all this trouble?”

  Cameron raised his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappeared into his hairline. “The two of you have got to be the most frustrating—”

  Cameron didn’t finish his sentence because, as if he had been summoned by the devil himself, Travis appeared in the doorway, a huge smile on his face too. Rod couldn’t help but smile back. It was infuriating how his body and soul responded to this man.

  “Ready to go?” Travis asked.

  Both Travis and Cam were vibrating with excitement, and it was beyond Rod’s pay grade to be a bastard when they were both so hyped up.

  “Fine, let’s do this thing.”

  Cameron walked next to the wheelchair while Travis pushed Rod toward the car. In the ten days Rod had been in the hospital, spring had officially arrived in Skagit. Being outside felt incredible, in spite of the clouds overhead and the steady mist. Mother Earth had been hinting around about spring when he and Theo were hiking before the accident.

  Theo. Crap. He’d completely forgotten about Theo.

  “Do you guys know what happened to my phone?” He figured it was gone, but…

  “If it was in your truck, it’s gone,” Cameron said.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” Travis and Cameron chimed together.

  “Nothing.” Rod was not going to bring up Theo right now. He’d figure out some way to get ahold of him.

  They arrived at Travis’s behemoth truck. Rod stared up at the thing. Somehow he’d forgotten how big it was. He was going to need help getting into the passenger seat. The initial joy at being out of the hospital dissipated as the reality of his recovery and general helplessness hit home.

  “You couldn’t have driven something more practical?” Never mind that when he got around to replacing his truck it would be just as big. The accident had been ruled the other driver’s fault, and once the insurance companies finished bargaining, Rod would get a check toward a new truck. If he was lucky, it would be enough for a down payment.

  “If I’d driven something more practical, you would have told me there was nothing wrong with you and asked why I changed rides.”

  It seemed Travis knew him pretty damn well.

  Rod had to admit he liked the house—but only to himself. He’d be damned if he said anything out loud to encourage Travis any further. It pained him. He knew he would get attached to living in it, and in his head he would be playing house with Travis: his fantasy come to life. And at the end of the day Travis would go back home, leaving Rod to try to put his heart back together. Again.

  A small voice in the back of his mind pointed out that Travis had rented the house. Travis had not gone back to Walla Walla. He had not mentioned Lisa or anything about a wedding. In fact, Travis had been studiously ignoring any references Rod made to the subject. What, exactly, was going on, Rod wondered.

  Rod couldn’t listen to that voice. He just couldn’t.

  “Check this out.” Travis led Rod carefully across the small living room to the dining area, where a large window looked out on a backyard that appeared to be populated with fruit trees. What kind, Rod wasn’t sure.

  Spring had arrived in full force while he was in the hospital, and the trees were dense with pink and white blossoms. A breeze blew into the yard, and a multitude of petals drifted to the ground in a mini snowstorm.

  “Beautiful.” That was the only thing Rod could say, because it was. Absolutely beautiful. But his leg was starting to throb more insistently. “I should sit down.”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. I just wanted you to see that.”

  Travis helped him over to the couch, making sure his leg didn’t bang into any of the boxes or furniture strewn across the communal space.

  Rod stopped and stared at a couch that was definitely not the one he had bought secondhand a few months ago. This couch had a dark brown, soft-looking leather cover and was large enough for three big guys to sit comfortably, or two guys to lie on without their toes touching the armrests. He wanted to hate it. He didn’t hate it.

  “What happened to my couch? It was a perfectly good couch.”

  “I found a better couch.”

  “What was wrong with the couch I already had? I can’t afford all this new stuff!” God dammit, now he was angry. Angry that he’d been in a car accident and stuck in the hospital; angry that he couldn’t do anything for himself, not even go to the bathroom. Pissed off that Travis had gone and bought a couch that was clearly very expensive. Furious that he was helpless right now and had no idea what the hell was going on. “I didn’t need a better couch, or a bigger couch. That other couch was just fine.”

  Travis, annoying man that he was, refused to be upset by Rod’s attitude. He grinned, his stupid teeth white and brilliant. “Quit trying to pick a fight with me. It isn’t going to work. I needed a bigger couch, so I found one. Sit down.”

  Rod had no choice. He lowered himself down. The god damned couch was even more comfortable than it looked. Travis helped him lift his injured leg up onto the cushions and positioned him so he was lying back.

  “Trav, we need to talk about what’s going on, why you’ve done all this.” Rod tried to make his voice firm and businesslike, but he was pretty sure he sounded whiny and petty.

  Travis crouched down by the side of the couch so he was basically eye level with Rod.

  “We do.” His blue eyes offered a promise Rod was afraid of. It felt like the first time he’d jumped out of a plane, except then he’d been confident he could do it, that the parachute would deploy and he would land safely on the ground. With Travis he didn’t know where he would land.

  There was a knock on the front door.

  “And we will, dammit,” Travis muttered as he stood up. “That must be Cameron.”

  Cameron had left them at the hospital with a cheery wave and a promise to see them later. Rod hadn’t realized he meant later that day.

  His mind focused on what Travis had been about to say, Rod regarded Travis thoughtfully as he stood and opened the door.

  It was Cam and a few other guys. One of the other men was Ira, Cam’s artist boyfriend. The second was Marcus, a friend of Cam’s who worked with him at the Loft, and the third was TheoG1988. Rod felt his eyes go extra wide and his cheeks flush. It wasn’t as if they had done anything, but—he darted a glance at Travis, who was acting perfectly normal—he felt awkward.

  Theo made a beeline for Rod, stepping nimbly through the stacked boxes and other moving paraphernalia.

  “Rod, I am so glad to see you are, well, mostly okay.” Theo looked him over before starting to sit on the edge of the couch. “I totally invited myself over, but I promise I won’t stay. Is this all right?”

  Rod nodded, feeling tongue-tied in front of Travis and Cam.

  “Let’s take a look around,” Ira said to Marcus. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Rod shook his head and watched the two of them disappear down a hallway to his left. Marcus, as usual, was wearing an outrageous T-shirt, this one fuchsia-toned and emblazoned with “Always forward, never straight.”

  “Gosh, honestly, I thought maybe you were ghosting me.” Theo beamed at Rod, his smile brilliant. �
�Finally I slunk into the Loft, because I remembered you telling me the only other person you knew in town was the bartender. Cam took pity on me and told me what happened.” It occurred to Rod that it might be a good idea to at least let his parents know he’d been in an accident but would recover.

  “Hi, I’m Travis Walker.” Travis had been watching the exchange but now came over to the couch and stuck out his hand for Theo to shake. A weird expression slithered across his handsome face before he masked it with a smile.

  Theo hopped up and shook Travis’s hand. All the oxygen had been sucked from the room. At least, none was making its way into Rod’s lungs. He was injured, recovering, far too emotionally vulnerable. Please, please, he begged Theo silently, do not say anything. Rod hadn’t known him long enough to gauge if he was a spiller or not.

  “Theo Gutierrez.” There was a short silence; Travis was waiting for something more. “Uh, new to Skagit, met Rod a month or so ago. Rod’s friend Travis, of course. I’ve heard about you.”

  Rod winced. This was not what he needed. Opening his eyes, he watched the inevitable train wreck that was his life. Cam was watching with amusement, not cutting in or changing the subject. Traitor.

  “Oh?” Travis, who normally looked like the stereotypical All-American guy, put a dangerous edge on the word. Cam disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, following Ira and Marcus. Rod could hear Marcus exclaiming over the size of the yard.

  “All good things, of course.” Theo’s gaze darted over to Rod, who probably looked panicked. On a good day he had a very good poker face, but today was surreal. “Anyway,” Theo perched on the edge of the couch again, “quick, give me all the details, and then I will get out of your hair.”

  Ten minutes later, Travis was shutting the door after Theo as Ira and Marcus sauntered back into the living room to stand with Cam. Surely it could not have taken that long for them to tour the tiny home. Rod narrowed his eyes at Cam, who grinned and raised one elegant eyebrow in response.

  “How was Theo?”

  “Theo was fine,” Rod muttered, scowling.

  “Did big bad Travis scare him off?”

  Cam, Ira, and Marcus cracked up, Travis stared at them like they were loons. “You guys are a bunch of comedians.”

  “All right then, let’s see about getting the rest of the furniture inside and set up,” Ira announced.

  A new couch wasn’t the only thing Travis had purchased. There was a coffee table, a table and chairs for the kitchenette, and several large boxes that went in the direction of the bedrooms. Exhaustion overtook Rod. The work his body was doing healing took a lot of energy, plus sleeping in the hospital had been almost impossible. He let his eyes fall shut, barely stirring when a blanket was draped over him as he lay on the couch. He heard quiet whispers and the door opening and closing when the three visitors left, but he was too sleepy to say goodbye.

  12

  Travis paced around the house, impatient for Rod to wake up and scared as shit about his reaction when he did. Travis harbored a tiny shard of uncertainty about Rod’s feelings toward him, but if that Theo guy’s reaction had been anything to go by, Travis was on the right track. Maybe. To be honest, he didn’t know up from down right now. All he did know was, he was going to do everything possible to get Rod to understand he wasn’t kidding around. Travis was here to stay.

  Seeing Rod huddled on the couch, the yellowing bruises and healing scrapes still covering his body visible because he’d kicked the blanket off with his good leg and his T-shirt had ridden up exposing his abdomen, still terrified Travis. An icy fear had settled deep in his gut as he drove like a man on fire to get to Skagit. It had been like nothing he’d ever experienced.

  Regardless of Cam trying to reassure him that the worst was past, Travis had imagined all sorts of terrible things, each worse than the previous. The worst of all was the thought that he might never be able to tell Rod he loved him. That he was a complete and total fool for not recognizing it earlier.

  Rod was scruffy, something he generally tried to avoid. Travis didn’t care what Rod looked like; having him alive and whole was what mattered. He’d been complaining that his face itched and the nurse in the hospital couldn’t shave right. Travis had promised they would shave the offending scruff off today. His hair had grown out too; normally Rod kept it cut very close to his scalp, but now it was sticking up in uneven clumps. Travis would never tell Rod, but it made him look adorable.

  There was nothing like coming far too close to losing Rod, the best person in his life, to make Travis realize he needed to get his ass in gear. Nothing was going to change if he didn’t make an effort. Maybe assembling furniture would go toward proving his devotion. Travis snickered quietly as he started to open a box.

  After half an hour, Travis gave up trying to follow the instructions for the Ikea entertainment center. He may have graduated top of his class, but the instruction manual was defeating him, possibly because he couldn’t focus on it. Collecting the empty boxes, he hauled them out to the side of the house where he broke them down for recycling.

  When he came back inside, he knew Rod was awake even though his eyes weren’t open. His body was no longer relaxed into sleep.

  It was now or never. Travis’s palms were sweaty. Jeez, he’d never been this nervous with anyone he’d wanted to be with before. He supposed it had never been this important before.

  Rod’s dark eyes opened slightly when Travis came through the front door, tracking him as he crossed the room to hover near the couch . Now or never, Travis repeated to himself, now or never.

  If Travis had been a betting man, this would be the moment where he pushed all his chips into the middle of the table, Ocean’s 11–style. He and Rod had watched that movie and its sequels so many times they both knew all the lines.

  “What now? You have a look on your face,” Rod muttered.

  “You were right earlier, we need to talk. But first, I want to do this.” Actions speak louder than words. His dad had told him that all his life.

  He leaned in—faster than he intended, because he was scared as shit—and brushed his lips against Rod’s, nearly smacking him in the teeth. Rod gasped, his lips parting under Travis’s own. Yes! a victorious voice shouted in his head. Trying to be mindful, he pulled away, intending to ask permission for more. Before he could, Rod grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him closer. Travis slipped to his knees, kissing Rod as he’d never allowed himself to want before.

  Rod’s lips were a little dry, and his beard was scratchy. None of that stopped Travis from first licking Rod’s lips and then delving inside to taste him, to slide his tongue across Rod’s, to suck on his plump lower lip. Was there a name for a heaven you didn’t know existed but, remarkably, found right in front of you? Maybe. For Travis it was Rod.

  He didn’t know how much time passed as they explored each other’s mouths, surprisingly calm, as if it was something they had been doing forever. The kiss was languid and hot, a mid-August day when the promise of an afternoon thunderstorm loomed. It was home. Lazy and reckless at the same time.

  Eventually they broke apart, both breathing hard. Rod looked at him, eyes wide with wonder and a little apprehension.

  Travis spoke first. He might as well go big; there was no point in holding back. He brushed a hand across Rod’s forehead and healing wounds, then down his cheek, feeling the warmth and vitality that made up his best friend. This was a moment he would never be able to repeat. It needed to be done right. Travis may have been slow on the uptake, but he knew that what happened next was more important than the kiss they’d just shared. “I hope that was okay.”

  Rod nodded, but Travis saw hesitation in the movement and questions in his eyes.

  “Why?”

  There was no middle ground where Rod was concerned. Travis couldn’t declare “I love you” and then change his mind—if he did, everything between them would be destroyed. There would be no friendship left. Rod gave with his whole heart, Travis understood that
. Rod wouldn’t try to pepper spray him; he would shut Travis out and never speak to him again.

  “I’ve always loved you, Rod. I didn’t recognize it for what it was until recently. You know, sometimes I need things spelled out for me. This was one of those times.” He mentally thanked Abigail again for opening his eyes.

  “You kissed me,” Rod stated.

  “Yeah, and you kissed me back.”

  “You love me?” Rod whispered.

  “Yeah, I do. I’m stupid, but I guess you know that.”

  Rod struggled to sit up, wincing as his bad leg tapped against the floor. Travis shifted and scooped an arm around him so he was sitting up and his leg was carefully propped on the coffee table. Rod patted the couch cushion next to him. Travis squished in as close as he could.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Rod said. “This is weird.”

  “Why is it weird?”

  “It just is. It’s one thing to fantasize that the person who’s been your best friend forever is going to realize he might possibly be in love with you, and it’s another to be sitting next to you on this brand-new couch, my face stinging from whisker burn because we made out for ten minutes.”

  “Was that ten minutes?”

  “Focus, Travis.”

  “You fantasized about me?”

  “Travis.”

  “Okaaaay.” Travis wanted to be done with the talking part and get back to the kissing part. It was going to be incredibly hard (ha-ha) to keep things light while Rod’s leg healed. Now that he’d finally kissed Rod, Travis wanted to strip him naked and explore everything about him. He wanted to wake up in the morning with Rod next to him in bed. He wanted everything.

  “You found a house. You,” Rod swept a hand out at the boxes and furniture in the living room, “bought stuff, permanent stuff. You moved me here—without asking me, which is another conversation—I guess after all this time it’s difficult for me to believe?”

  “Even when we were kissing just now?”

  “When we were kissing, I wasn’t thinking about anything. This doesn’t feel real. I’m sorry. I think… I don’t know.” His voice trailed off. “I think I don’t know how I feel.”