by DJ Jamison
Did he? Yes and no. Trent had shown his true priorities once before and they didn’t include Xavier. He knew Byron’s death had shaken Trent and he’d come to Ashe to re-evaluate his priorities. But he was grieving. Xavier couldn’t be sure Trent would be satisfied in Ashe or committed to him once he regained his equilibrium.
“I don’t know. He really hurt me before. I’m a little afraid to risk that again.”
“That makes sense.” She rubbed his arm. “Has he apologized?”
“Yeah.”
“You believe him?”
“Man, I don’t know. I believe he has regrets. But it’s easy to say you wouldn’t make that choice again when you’re not in the same situation.”
Bella knew all about their break-up, but instead of nodding and agreeing as he expected, she took another approach.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bella said, “but did you ever think maybe you hurt him, too?”
Xavier rolled to the side to stare at her. “I hurt him?”
His mind boggled at where she got that. Trent had dumped him. Trent had told him he’d amount to nothing because he had no ambition. That he was a loser, and he didn’t want to date losers. Where in that would he have hurt Trent?
“You made all these plans to go to school together, and then suddenly the rug was pulled out from under him. Maybe he felt like you chose your family over him.”
“Well, yeah, I did,” Xavier said, his voice rising with his emotions. “They’re my family. My sister needed me. What was I supposed to do? Leave them to deal with it on their own so I could follow my boyfriend?”
Bella squeezed his arm. “Calm down, I’m not criticizing your choice.” She squeezed his bicep again. “Wow, you got muscles, boy.”
He flexed his arm and cracked up when she pretended to swoon. The levity broke through his irritation. The more he thought about Bella’s words, the more they made sense.
“Okay. Maybe he freaked and lashed out because I dropped a bomb on him. But he never spoke to me again. He never called. He just cut me out of his life with a few words, and that was that. So, why should I let him in now?”
“Did you ever call him? It’s a two-way street.”
Xavier cocked his head, thinking back to that awful summer. He’d wallowed in his bed for days before he could even confess to his grandmother what happened. She’d tried to talk him into going to school as planned, but he couldn’t leave. He was too worried about her, and he knew Twyla was overwhelmed.
“I tried once or twice, right after we broke up. But he didn’t answer or call back. Then I was too devastated to do anything but hide in my bed for weeks. I was so mad about what he said, but I also worried he was right. Maybe I was a loser destined for nothing great.”
“Aw, sweetie,” Bella said, “not true.”
“Kind of true. I took a decade to get it together and go to school. Somehow I turned that fight with Trent into a reason to avoid moving forward. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy for a long time. I was terrified of failing, and my family’s needs and then Trent’s words gave me tools to avoid putting myself out there.”
“That’s sad.”
“Yeah, so by the time I wasn’t angry with Trent— and I mean, I was always angry, but less angry— we’d been apart long enough that it seemed over and done. There was no point to talking to him. I figured he wouldn’t want to hear from me.”
“Maybe it’s not done.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, thinking of Trent’s wistful expression when they’d said goodbye.
“How’d you get so smart?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Beats me. I’m just a sappy girl who likes a good love story.”
He grinned. “Then you better go on that date and find your happy ending.”
She checked the time. “Shoot, I better do my hair!”
Bella jumped up from the bed and hustled into the bathroom.
“I’m heading out,” he called after her.
“Okay, thanks!”
“Keep it simple. Casual and cool. All my straight friends love the cool girl.”
She poked her head out the doorway. “Aha, the truth comes out. You’re like a spy. I’ve got my man on the inside to tell me what guys really want.”
He grinned. “Later, girl.”
His bed was calling him. After all those tension-filled nights and hectic workdays, he felt like he could sleep for a week.
Chapter Thirteen
February
Xavier didn’t set out to avoid Trent or keep him in a state of suspense. But life got in the way.
They’d exchanged a few text messages, but Xavier wasn’t able to take Trent up on any of his casual invitations for dinner or coffee. He honestly wanted a chance for them to talk everything out and get on the same page. But he had a lot on his plate.
He had classes, study groups and clinical hours— which were now in the obstetrics department, rather than the clinic. He and Trent no longer crossed paths at work, so he didn’t see his ex-boyfriend at all. That would have been great a few weeks ago, but now he kind of missed Trent’s intense looks and tentative smiles, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether Xavier would smile back or punch him in the face, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from roving all over Xavier’s body, just the same.
Then there was his other job, the one that actually provided a paycheck—skimpy as it was— to help him cover his expenses. With the winter season, the landscaping crew only worked a few hours here and there— mostly when inclement weather required it — or Xavier probably would have been fired by now.
He had some goodwill with the owner, who had known Xavier’s father, but when an ice storm blew in over the weekend, Xavier knew he had to pitch in and help or he’d lose the few hours he got. It wasn’t much, but it paid for groceries. Thankfully, he had grants and scholarships to cover most of his other bills.
Xavier hopped out of his beater of a car, with its one green door and rust speckling the fenders. He tugged on work gloves as he crossed the lawn in long strides, joining the small crew clearing limbs that came down from the weight of ice.
“You’re late,” his foreman observed.
“Sorry,” he gasped, a little breathless from the cold. “Didn’t hear my alarm.”
The man wasn’t happy, but he let it be, and Xavier bent to gather a pile of limbs the others guys had already chopped into a manageable size to haul off. He was exhausted after a late night of studying, and he had to be at the hospital immediately after this shift.
As much as he wanted to work out things with Trent, there didn’t seem to be space in his life for an ex-boyfriend with hopeful eyes. And gorgeous lips. And a fucking mouth-watering ass. Xavier shut down that train of thought, losing himself in the manual labor of clearing fallen limbs at their clients’ homes for the next couple of hours.
By the time he left, he was sweaty and tired and wanted nothing more than a good, long nap. Instead, he raced home and showered, so he could go to his other job— the one that would get him one step closer to realizing his own dreams. Dreams he had put off for too damn long. Dreams that couldn’t be put on hold to make time for Trent.
He just hoped like hell that Trent would wait.
***
Eric Holtz cornered Trent in the cafeteria.
He suppressed a groan as the medical director brought up his resume for the third time since he’d taken the clinic post.
“Dr. Cavendish! You tired of scribbling prescriptions yet?” he asked with a condescending smile. “I heard what happened on that rural Kansas trip. You picked up a scalpel.”
Ah, here we go.
“It was an emergency,” he said. “I did what was needed to stabilize the patient. He wouldn’t have made it to the nearest hospital equipped to treat him.”
Eric nodded along. “It’s admirable. We want you to use your skills. You know we have a gap in our surgical team—”
“I know,” Trent interrupted. “I have my reasons for leaving the OR.”
“I know you must,” Eric said, showing the first sign of understanding.
From the corner of his eye, Trent saw Xavier. He stood out from everyone else in the room, and Trent couldn’t say exactly why, except that his ex-boyfriend had that effect on him. He could immediately sense Xavier’s presence in a room.
Xavier wasn’t exceptionally tall at a somewhat average 5-foot-10. Trent had two inches on him with his six feet of height. Xavier was more built than the average doctor or nurse in the room, his biceps pushing the limits of his sleeves. Most people’s scrubs were baggy and far from formfitting. Xavier’s teal scrubs— a shade different from the regular hospital staff to indicate he was a student— hugged his muscled form. And of course, there was his gorgeous hair. Trent had a real love affair with Xavier’s dreadlocks. He never knew he’d find Xav so beautiful with longer hair, but he did. Even when it was pulled back in a loose bun at the back of his head, there were always a few dreads that came loose and hung down around his face.
Trent desperately wanted to get Xavier in club attire again and grind on a dance floor.
Xavier noticed him watching, and Trent waved him over, eager to get out of his talk with Eric. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Xavier in person since their work trip, and he was more than ready for some one-on-one time.
To his relief, Xavier approached, casting a curious glance at Eric, who was rambling about how Trent was wasting natural talent.
“So, will you?” Eric finished.
Trent tore his eyes from Xavier. “Huh?”
“Will you at least do a consult for me? One of our general surgeons has a patient, and the scans are a bit tricky. I’d feel better offering a second opinion.”
Trent hesitated, and Xavier spoke up. “You should do it.”
Trent eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”
Xavier shrugged. “Dr. Holtz is right. You’re talented. This is what you trained to do. Clinic medicine was never your dream.”
“It was yours,” Trent said.
Xavier nodded. “Yes. Our dreams have always been different, Trent. Go back to the OR. It’s where you belong.”
“I don’t think so,” Trent said firmly.
Something about Xavier’s sudden nudge toward the OR bothered him. It wasn’t the same as his encouragement in Pullman to save a man’s life. It was more like he was trying to push Trent toward surgery to add to the distance between them. A distance that was already too large, in Trent’s opinion. Xavier hadn’t said yes or no to giving their relationship a chance, but he’d been practically impossible to pin down since they got back to town. He knew Xavier was busy, but the man couldn’t possibly be that busy.
“Not even a consult?” Eric asked. He was a persistent man.
He wanted Eric Holtz out of his hair so he could persuade Xavier into a lunch date. The guy had to eat sometime, and they were in a cafeteria. It seemed like the best opening he’d get.
“Fine, I’ll do the consult, but don’t even think about twisting my arm on joining the surgical team.”
“Great!” Holtz said, clapping Trent’s shoulder. “Meet me in my office at 2.”
Now that he’d gotten what he wanted — or at least the first phase of what he wanted — he was quick to leave.
Trent turned to Xavier. “Clinic hours today?”
Xav nodded. “Afternoon shift in obstetrics.”
Even though they’d mostly just passed each other in the halls when Xavier did hours at the clinic, Trent missed seeing his face. He’d come to count on those small doses of his ex-boyfriend, whether they talked or not. The trip across rural Kansas had only further hooked him on the Xavier James drug.
“Babies are fun,” he said, struggling to keep the conversation going. He didn’t want to waste an opportunity to gain ground with Xav.
Xavier made a face. “Yeah, but do you know how many times I’ve had my fingers in a cervix already?”
Trent burst out laughing. He impulsively leaned close and kissed Xavier’s cheek. “You’re adorable. Have lunch with me?”
Xavier looked uncertain, but he nodded. “I was going to grab something before my shift.”
Trent grinned. “I hoped so. Hard to avoid me when I’m in the way of food, huh?”
He pressed a hand to Xavier’s back, nudging him toward the small buffet that was set up in the cafeteria containing hot food. Xavier didn’t resist, but he didn’t sound pleased as he responded, “I’m not avoiding you. My life is pretty fucking full right now.”
They each filled a plate and settled at a small, round cafeteria table with their mildly appetizing fair: Trent had gotten some kind of breaded chicken with marinara sauce and green beans and instant mashed potatoes on the side, while Xavier went for a simple turkey sandwich and chips.
“So, your schedule is full,” Trent said. “Too full to be with me? Is that what you mean?”
Xavier opened his mouth, then shut it. He seemed uncertain what to say.
“I haven’t made any decisions,” he said at last. “I’m crazy busy. I’ve got school, study groups, clinicals and a job. I haven’t been keeping up with Gran and Twyla and the kids either. I feel like shit most days, Trent. I’m so fucking tired.”
He looked it. Trent let go of his own insecurities for a moment and really looked at Xavier. The dark smudges under his eyes were less noticeable because of his skin tone, but they were there. His shoulders sagged, under too much weight, as usual. Xavier always had taken on the weight of the world. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all when Xavier put his family’s needs ahead of his future when they graduated high school. It’s what Xavier did.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to briefly squeeze Xav’s hand. “Look at me.”
Xavier lifted his eyes, fear and uncertainty and sadness intermingling in his heavy gaze.
“We don’t have to figure it out right now. I don’t want to add to your stress.”
Xavier lifted a brow, somewhat skeptical. Trent chuckled.
“Okay,” Trent admitted, “I want you to just cave and take me back, so I can help you, you know? I can be a shoulder to lean on. You can vent to me when you’re frustrated, and I can help you study.” He lowered his voice. “And you know that they say.”
“What do they say?”
“Sex is a great stress reliever.”
Xavier threw a chip at Trent’s face, but he was smiling, so Trent counted it a win.
It was clear they wouldn’t resolve anything in the fifteen minutes Xavier had to spare for eating, and his ex-boyfriend wasn’t ready to let him in. He was overworked, unable to find the time to sleep properly, much less think through their situation.
So, he let Xavier eat, and he kept up a stream of lighthearted small talk about the staff at the clinic and Marge’s condition— worsening but stable, she was officially on retirement and at home with her daughter, who was taking good care of her.
When they’d both scarfed down their meals, Xavier brushed a kiss on his cheek. “See you around, Dr. Dishy.”
Trent grinned at Xavier’s use of the nickname. He felt as if they’d closed a bit of the distance between them, even if Xavier hadn’t made any promises.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he said, resisting the urge to grab Xavier and squeeze him in a hug. God, but he missed the time and privacy they’d had in those motel rooms while traveling.
Xavier smiled, his eyes a bit lighter than when they’d first met up. “Never that,” he said teasingly before turning away.
Trent watched him cross the cafeteria and exit the door. He stared at the door long after Xavier was gone.
If he had to, Trent could wait until Xavier had the breathing space and emotional energy to commit to him. Even if it took until graduation day.
What were a few weeks in comparison to years apart? He felt responsible for the distance between them, and Xavier was entitled to as much time as he needed to give Trent another chance. He just really, really hoped it wouldn’t take that long.<
br />
Chapter Fourteen
March
Trent saw Eric Holtz again a few weeks later. He was on his way out of the clinic, and in no mood for another arm-twisting about joining the surgical team.
He’d done the surgical consult Holtz requested, and the surgeon’s opinion had been right on the money. He’d felt like an ass for strolling in and double-checking the man’s work like some middle manager.
It had been an obvious ploy to draw him into the surgical wing. Thankfully, Dr. Wright had been gracious about it when Trent apologized for barging in and explained that Eric Holtz was trying to lure him in and Wright had simply been bait.
“You left surgery for clinic care?” Dr. Wright had said in surprise. “That must have been some midlife crisis.”
Trent had laughed uncomfortably. No way he was going to explain his reasons to a relative stranger. “Guess so.”
“Did Dr. Holtz succeed in the wooing or are you in love with the colorful characters who come to the clinic?”
There had been something mildly insulting about his phrasing, but Trent let it slide. The man could mean a lot of things by colorful: the variety of patient types; the few drug addicts and mentally ill people who’d fallen through the cracks until they walked in; the few bold and brash patients who spoke their mind quite loudly when they weren’t pleased with his treatment. He’d rather not try to imagine his exact meaning.
“The jury’s still out,” he’d told him.
Fact was, Trent did miss surgery. He missed Xavier more, though. And clinic care was growing on him. He was making an impact, but it could be incredibly frustrating when it was obvious some of these patients wouldn’t take care of themselves when they left.
He didn’t know what he wanted — except Xavier James. That was his only constant.
So when he saw Eric Holtz again, he ducked into the bathroom in the hopes of avoiding him. No joy. Eric followed him in.
“Dr. Holtz, this is a surprise,” he said, opting not to use the urinal with the administrator on his heels. It might make it more obvious he’d only gone into the bathroom to hide, but Trent was not pulling out his dick right now. He hovered by the sink. “We don’t see you down on the clinic floor often.”
