Blinking to clear his vision, he took in the scene. Nora was curled on the other bed, a blanket around her shoulders, knees tucked into her chest.
“Water.” Accepting the cup from Matisse, he took a sip. “How’s everyone?” he asked, leaning back and handing the cup to his friend.
Shrugging, Matisse glanced once at the still form on the other bed before speaking again. “Everyone’s worried about you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His long fingers twirled a dark strand of hair around and around. “Just get better.”
“Working on it.” He reached for the cup again, but Matisse beat him to it, shifting the table closer to the side of the bed. “Did I miss anything?”
There was a slight hitch in Matisse’s movement as he settled himself back on the chair.
“Matisse?”
“I was an ass. Nora forgave me. I think we’re okay now.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t necessarily want to share it with you.”
Ah. Cai cleared his throat. “Do the other guys know?”
“No.” The bed shook when booted feet propped themselves against the rail. “They know I did something and tried to serenade her, but they don’t know why.”
“Serenade?” What in the world had he done to merit a serenade? Matisse may look the part of a dark poet, but it wasn’t in his nature to make romantic gestures. Of all of them, he was most likely to show his caring physically, not with words or deeds. A serenade meant two things: an epic mess-up and he was in deep.
Maybe as deep as Cai.
He couldn’t be in his friends’ brains or hearts. All he had to go on was what he observed, what he saw.
Words could be twisted, manipulated. In the start of their relationship with Nora, they’d asked her to trust them, but his plan was to show her she could trust him. When they’d told her they wanted her, they were being honest. With each passing day, their words held more and more weight. Each action his friends made showed him they were dedicated to her and to this unique relationship.
Now, Matisse had messed up. Messed up big time if he was singing to her. And Cai couldn’t help it, but he loved it. He worried most about Matisse. Impulsive and distractible, it wouldn’t be the first time he fell in and out of love in less time than it took Cai to tie his shoes.
“She loves me.”
Opening eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, he peered at Matisse. “I know.”
“I love her, too.”
He couldn’t help the smile. His friend’s words were laced with confusion and astonishment. “You’re surprised.”
“She forgave me so easily,” Matisse mused.
Of course she had.
“Not used to forgiveness. I’m not sure how I feel about it,” he went on.
Barking out a laugh, Cai shook his head. None of them knew what to do with her easy understanding and love. “Enjoy it,” Cai answered. “Maybe after all this time, we deserve it.”
A crazy idea, deserving happiness, but there it was. If he could only make himself believe it, he’d be set.
“It’s slow going,” Matisse added. “Look at Ryan.”
Smiling, Cai glanced at Nora. Any hope Ryan had for the future had started with the girl snoring on the bed next to him.
“I don’t want to see him broken again,” Matisse mumbled.
Understanding shot through him. All of them had periods of darkness, times when the past was more real than day-to-day events. It didn’t take much to send any of them into a spiral of recrimination, and it never got easier to watch.
“Have you seen what he’s written?”
“No.” Matisse shook his head. “But I got the sense he put everything in there.”
“The good and the bad,” Cai added.
“Yeah.” His friend gathered his long, dark hair above his head before letting it fall to graze his shoulders. “It would be something…”
“For him to finally recognize the positive,” Cai finished before sighing and turning onto his side to stretch his legs.
“Go to sleep if you need to,” Matisse told him.
“This is kicking my butt.”
“It’s pneumonia and strep, Cai. It’s supposed to.”
“Your clock is still off, huh?” he asked, changing the subject.
Standing, Matisse began to pace around the room. “It is. Worth it though.”
“You tell Nora about the races?”
A hitch in his step brought him to a halt. “Should I? She probably wouldn’t even care. It’s not like I can do it in the snow.”
Yet another example of the genius being relationship-challenged. Rather than point out the flaws in his reasoning, Cai let it go. For now. There was something to be said for experience, and Matisse had always learned lessons best through action, not lecture.
“She said she loves me,” his friend whispered, going back to the window and staring out. “Like it was nothing. So easy.” Yanking his hair out of his face again, he groaned. “I’m going to fuck this up.”
“She won’t let you,” Cai answered, surprising himself. “She gets you. Gets me. I don’t know how; maybe we’re not as deep as we like to think.”
Snorting, Matisse put his hands on the glass, pressing against the window like he was holding back the world. “Yeah. She does.”
THIRTY-THREE
Pride
RYAN RUSHED FROM class to the hospital, a smile stuck dopily on his face. He caught the glances of a few students side-eyeing him like he was a wacko, and he tried to calm himself down. Look a little less…manic.
It was hard, though. Professor Bismarck had read his defense, then held him after class. Nervously, he had waited for the man’s judgment. He’d fully expected to hear: “Not good enough. Think about another career.” So when the professor had reached out and pulled him in for a hug, clapping him on the back before letting him go, he couldn’t believe it.
“Valore.” His voice had broken, then he’d started again, reaching for Ryan’s paper to hold in shaking hands. “I’ve never read anything like this. Anything. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been more proud of a student or more heartbroken for the young man who felt so dishonored he completed more good works in two years than I have in my whole life.” Chuckling softly, he had shaken his head. “You put me to shame.”
Unsure how to proceed, Ryan had waited, hoping Professor Bismarck would tell him what to do next.
“Student advisory council is tomorrow. I already sent this to the dean; they want you to attend.”
It was faster than he’d expected, but Ryan had nodded his head. “Sure.”
“I should warn you, Beau Curtis will be there.”
Here was Ryan’s chance. He could show Beau what he’d done, show him some good came out of the mess he’d made out things. Would it be enough? It couldn’t be, really. A thousand times he’d put himself in Beau’s shoes, and he recognized there was nothing he could do to give his old friend the two years he’d lost.
“Beau’s on the council?” he’d asked.
“No. Any student can bring a concern to the council, but if an argument is raised, they must attend the hearing. It is a law school, after all.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Defend yourself,” Bismarck had told him. “Be honest; don’t sell yourself short. This…” He held up Ryan’s defense again. “This is incredible. Tell them. If they deny you admittance after reading this, I’ll eat my hat.”
Buttoning his coat, Ryan had nodded. “Okay.”
Now he was racing across campus, barely holding it together, caught somewhere between glee and terror. Forcing himself to slow inside the hospital, the best he could manage was a power walk to Cai’s room.
Inside, Apollo, Nora, Seok, Cai, and Matisse played a card game.
Placing a card on the pile, Seok called out, “Uno!” and his friends groaned.
“Haha!” Nora laughed, slapping something down. “Draw four!”
“How long does this game go on?” Matisse asked. “We’ve already run out of cards twice. You just keep shuffling and playing?”
“Yup,” she answered, arranging her cards before spying him in the doorway. “Hi!” After tossing her cards on the table, she walked to him, enfolding him in a hug. “How was class?”
“Good.” He framed her face with his hands, kissing each cheek before nuzzling her neck. “Tomorrow is my meeting with the student advisory council at CCSL.”
She froze, her gaze searching his face.
“I’m good,” he assured her. “I’m good. Ready.”
“Can I come with you?” she asked.
“Good question,” Seok interrupted. “Can we?”
“Moral support,” Apollo added.
“Entourage,” Matisse snorted.
“I wish I could go.” Cai’s hoarse voice still managed to cut through their chatter. “Doctor wants me to stay another day at least.”
“I don’t know.” He pictured his group of friends and Nora at CCSL. Beau would be there, and as far as he knew, the man had no idea of Nora’s connection to Ryan. What if he saw her and took his anger out on her? Things would deteriorate rapidly. “It would probably be better if I go alone.”
Disappointment flashed across her face, but she tried to hide it. “I could wait in the car.”
It was tempting. If things didn’t work out, he’d need someone. She’d be right there.
“Let me think about it,” he allowed. “I don’t like the idea of you sitting in the car in the cold, even though I’d love having you close by. And I don’t know about— what if Beau saw you and got angry?”
Nodding her understanding, she embraced him harder. “Whatever you decide.”
He kissed the top of her head, found a chair, and dragged her onto his lap. “Now, tell me more about the doctor. What’d he say?”
Cai swallowed visibly, his throat working, and winced. “I’m still running a bit of a fever, and while I’m feeling better, they want me to stay a little longer. Make sure the infection clears up.”
“How’s your throat?” he asked.
Cai’s hand went to his neck, still covered in a bright red rash. “Okay.”
Pushing against Ryan, Nora stood. “Let me get you another popsicle.”
“Just ice,” he said. “Please.”
Walking to his side, Ryan watched Cai stare at her like he'd never seen anything like her in his life. Even with his friend looking like death warmed over, his eyes fever bright, he perked up considerably under Nora's gaze.
“Just ice?” she asked.
“Yeah. I'm purple popsicled out.”
Leaning down, she nuzzled his cheek. “Who knew purple was a flavor, right?”
His chuckle turned into a cough so harsh everyone in the room winced.
She waited until he caught his breath before kissing his cheek again and standing. “Don't stress him out.” Pinning Matisse with a glare made less severe with a wink, she went on, “Give him a break from Uno.”
Hand to heart, his friend pledged, and she left them.
“You sound awful,” Ryan observed.
“Thanks,” Cai replied wryly. “I hadn't noticed.” With Nora gone, all the energy left him.
“But you're improving?”
“My lungs aren't so...” His eyes searched the room as he struggled to find the word.
“Crackly,” Apollo offered.
“Thanks.” Adjusting the head of the bed, Cai sighed. “I feel like I got run over by a truck, and it's frustrating. I want to get out of here. Everyone at work is covering for me, and they have their own stuff to do.”
“You've covered for all of them,” Ryan countered. “I've heard your work cell ring at all hours; I know you go in for them when they need it. I'm sure they're happy to do the same for you.”
Shrugging, Cai stared at the blanket. “Doesn't matter. The kids count on me; the staff counts on me. I need to be there.”
“Dude,” Apollo interjected. “You're not going to get better if you keep stressing yourself out like this. If you force it too soon, you're just going to pay for it later.”
“I know!” he snapped before drawing a hand down his face. The back of his fingers brushed against his stubble, and he grimaced. “I know,” he said again, calmer.
“Ice!” Nora came into the room carrying a pitcher and a tray of snacks. “And pudding. They were just delivering this; I thought it might be a nice change from purple.”
Passing them out to everyone but Apollo, who held up a hand in refusal, they dug into their no need to be refrigerated pudding cups. Ryan watched Cai closely, noting he only took a few small bites before placing the food on his tray. Raising an eyebrow, his friend seemed to dare him to comment.
“I gotta go,” Matisse said, tossing his cup in the trash. “I'm going to go home to sleep, and I'll be back tonight. Nora?”
“I'll stay.”
“No.” Tiredly, Cai readjusted his position. “You've been here since last night.”
“I slept.”
“Not well. You and I both know it's impossible to sleep well here. Go home, Nora. Go with Ryan tomorrow and come back when he’s done. Tell me all about it.”
Ryan watched the two of them argue, unsure whether or not to step in. It wasn't a sure thing she would come with him, but he suspected his friend's argument was about needing space. He’d been packed into his hospital room along with them.
“Apollo,” Seok said carefully, leading him to believe he caught the same message Ryan had. “You have class, right?”
“But I can stay,” Apollo added quickly. “I don't mind skipping.”
“No. You go to class. Ryan will hang back with Cai a little, and Matisse and I will go home with Nora.”
“I—” she began to argue, but Matisse intervened, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the door.
“Come on, cher. Let the boy sleep.”
Her face darkened with guilt, and Ryan wanted to cuff his friend. From Seok's face, he did as well. The door closed behind them, and Cai released a huge sigh.
“I love them, but—”
“Sometimes you just need to be miserable on your own,” Ryan finished.
“Exactly.”
“I'll leave in five,” Ryan assured him. “But is there anything else you need?”
Closing his eyes, Cai shook his head. “Sleep. All I want to do is sleep. And be quiet.”
Taking the hint, Ryan settled into the chair next to the bed. “Go to sleep. I’ll leave in a few.”
Nodding without opening his eyes, Cai fell asleep almost instantly. Ryan watched as Cai’s cheeks became redder, and leaning forward, he touched his friend’s forehead. He felt warm again. Thank goodness he had insurance because with this up and down, he may be in here a while.
When Ryan left a little while later, he made sure to check in with the nurses, telling them to call him if there was any change in Cai’s condition.
Walking into his house, he immediately noted the difference in the atmosphere compared to when he’d arrived alone. Every light in the house was on, and loud voices emanated from the kitchen.
“Hi!” someone yelled to him.
“Hi!” Unable to stop himself from smiling, he dropped his things by the door and went toward the room. He was surprised to find only Matisse and Nora in there; they were so loud he’d thought Seok and maybe even Apollo were there.
Standing next to the stove, hands on hips, Nora glared at Matisse. Arms crossed, he merely watched her smugly.
“What’s going on?” Ryan asked carefully.
“We’re making dinner.” Her eyes cut to him, and she smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Chuckling and smiling, he edged closer. “So what’s the problem?”
“Jambalaya.”
“Huh?” Rubbing across his forehead, he felt tiny wrinkles along his skin. “What’s the problem with jambalaya?”
“Of the two of us, my friend,�
� Matisse answered. “Who do you think has the most experience with this dish?”
“Tisse,” she argued. “I believe you. But I had a plan. Let me do it.”
“Cher—”
“Fine!” Throwing up her hands, she turned around and winked at Ryan. “Ingredients are in the fridge.”
Ryan had never made jambalaya, but it sounded like a complicated dish for a bunch of exhausted people who’d just arrived home from the hospital. It wouldn’t be his first choice. Canned soup or toaster waffles was about all he could handle. Easy and warm. Done in minutes.
“Did you just play me?” Matisse asked when Nora sat.
“What do you mean?” Smiling sweetly, she took a sip of water. “You wanted to cook, and then you wanted to make jambalaya. I’m letting you cook.”
Ryan didn’t know what had happened before he got there, but he got the distinct impression Nora was teaching Matisse a lesson. At times, his friend was the equivalent of a backseat driver in the kitchen. Next time, he might decide to keep his opinions to himself if the result was cooking on his own.
“How was Cai?” Dark eyes met his. Placing the water on the table, she leaned forward. “What happened?”
“He was asleep when I left. I think he was exhausted.” Remembering Cai’s mild fever, he debated telling Nora but decided against it. “He’ll be better soon.” He reached for her hand, and she took it, squeezing before leaning back in her chair.
A clang from the stove made them both jump. “Need help?” she asked.
“Non.” The sizzle of oil and smell of cooking onions filled the kitchen.
“Is there anything you need to do to prepare?” she asked Ryan after a moment of staring at Matisse.
“I don’t know,” Ryan answered honestly. “I don’t know what the council will ask or what Beau will say.”
She studied him, and he shifted uneasily. After a moment, she stood and placed herself carefully in his lap, leaning her head against his chest. “I love you, Ryan. No matter what happens tomorrow, I am grateful for whatever it is that shaped you into you. Without it, I could be in jail. I most certainly never would have met all of you.”
Embarrassed, he shrugged, but she didn’t let him get away with his disparaging gesture. “It’s a big deal to me, Ryan. You gave me hope. A future. You gave me Matisse, and even though he’s burning the bottom of that pan while he eavesdrops, I am so grateful for him. For all of you.”
Finding Valor (The Searchers Book 2) Page 22
