Sweet Surrender (The Den Boys Book 4)

by A. T Brennan

  “Caleb?”

  I jumped up as soon as Rosie called my name and followed her into the exam room where Dr. Howard was waiting.

  “Caleb, have a seat.” Dr. Howard spoke clearly as he motioned to the chair next to his desk. “I got your test results back, and they’re normal.”

  I breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded.

  A few weeks ago, I’d had a few dizzy and fainting spells, which wouldn’t be a big deal for most people, but as an epileptic, they could trigger seizures. Dr. Howard had ordered blood tests to check my sugars and an EKG to check my heart. He’d been worried about my blood pressure being high and wanted to make sure there were no underlying conditions to treat.

  “So what caused the dizziness?” I asked.

  “Stress, which is probably what caused the spike in your blood pressure.” He pulled out his blood pressure cuff and nodded to my arm. “Have you been under any extra stress lately?”

  I shook my head as he put the cuff on my arm and put the earpieces for his stethoscope in his ear. Dr. Howard was old school. There were no mechanical blood pressure machines in his office.

  “Your pulse is back to normal, and your pressure is back in the safe range.” He put the instruments on his desk and looked at me. “What do you do for fun?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fun. You work, but what do you do to balance that?”

  “Um...”

  “Caleb, with a condition like yours, you have to take extra precautions to balance your life. Work will give you stress, and so will sleeping off hours like you tend to. You need to have something in your life that’s fun.”

  “I game.”

  He shook his head. “That’s a start, but gaming is one of those activities that can be stressful in and of themselves. What about clubs or teams or taking a class? Something around other people?”

  “Um, not really.”

  “Think about it.” He smiled and looked at his computer. “I’m going to order another set of tests in a month, just to make sure you’re still in the clear. If you have any more spells, I want you to record them for me. Now, you want to tell me about your arm and face?”

  “I had another seizure.” I sighed and touched the small scab on my cheek. “Atonic. I wasn’t out long.”

  “I’m still worried about this new medication,” Dr. Howard said absentmindedly as he typed something into his computer. “Your seizures should have decreased more significantly than this.”

  “You want to change them again?” I asked wearily.

  Dr. Howard was a great doctor. I’d been seeing him for almost ten years now, but he loved to adjust my medications as he tried to get the optimal result. Switching always meant an adjustment period, and I was tired of having to get used to yet another medication.

  “We’ll keep on this one a bit longer, revisit it at your next appointment. You haven’t had a tonic-clonic seizure since we switched, so we’ll give it a bit more time. Make sure you tell Rosie I need to see you again in a month.”

  Effectively dismissed, I nodded my thanks and headed out of the exam room. Rosie made my appointment, and with my reminder card in hand, I left the office and headed toward the bus stop. I wasn't in the mood to walk home anymore.

  About halfway there, my eyes fell on the spot where I’d had my seizure yesterday, and I paused in front of the doors to The Den.

  I still felt like a jerk for running away from Rhys. He’d been nothing but kind, and I’d reacted to his offer of a drive home like he’d asked if I wanted to dig up some graves or BASE jump with no parachute.

  There was no harm in going in, seeing if he was working so I could thank him. I definitely wasn’t doing this so I could look into his crystal blue eyes again or ogle his muscles. Nope. I was doing this to be polite.

  I was still telling myself that as I pushed open the doors and walked into the bar.

  Rhys was there. He was behind the bar talking to a guy who could have been his physical twin, outside of the fact that this second man was dark haired and had tanned skin.

  Rhys looked over at the door as it closed behind me, and a small smile spread across his perfect lips as he saw me hovering.

  It’s good to see you again. He signed as I approached the bar. How are you feeling today?

  Good, thank you. I signed back.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” Rhys spoke as he signed this time so the other bartender could follow the conversation.

  “No, thank you.” I hoped I wasn't shouting at them. I had a hard enough time hearing myself speak when it was quiet, in loud atmospheres it was pretty much impossible, and I found it hard to regulate the volume of my voice. “I wanted to say thanks, again.”

  “Of course. I was happy to help.”

  “And to apologize for running away like I did.”

  “It’s fine. I’m sorry if I was too forward.”

  “You weren’t. It’s my issue, not yours.” I paused, not sure what else I could say.

  There was something about Rhys that drew me in. Yes, he was gorgeous, but there was something about him that made me want to stick around and get to know him better. I didn’t believe in auras per se, but it was almost like there was an energy around Rhys that I couldn’t seem to ignore.

  “I’m off work in about twenty minutes.” Rhys glanced at his phone before he spoke. “Do you want to stick around? We could hang out, have a chat.”

  “Um, sure. Thanks.”

  Was he flirting with me? I knew by the rainbow flag stickers in the window of the door that this was a gay-friendly bar, but was Rhys gay?

  It didn’t matter. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Gay or not, I wasn’t looking for anything more than a friend. I might be attracted to Rhys, but that’s as far as it could go.

  “What’ll you have? It’s on the house.”

  “Soda, please.” I slid into the bar stool he’d nodded at.

  “You can have a beer if you want. Or a cocktail.”

  “I can’t drink on my medication.” Yet another thing that made me pathetic.

  “One soda, coming up.”

  I appreciated how he didn’t ask any more questions or make a big deal out of it. Instead, he poured a soda, added a lemon wedge to it, and then slid it across the bar to me.

  “Thanks.”

  I have to go and finish the inventory, but I’ll be back out when my shift is over. Rhys didn’t bother speaking since the other bartender was currently talking to someone a few feet away.

  I’ll be here.

  Rhys smiled. I hope so.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, and thankfully Rhys just gave me a grin before turning to say something to the other bartender.

  Okay, that felt like flirting. But then again, he could just be friendly. Just because he was being nice and wanted to talk, that didn’t mean anything. That had to be it. He was just a friendly guy, and he absolutely hadn’t been flirting with me.

  I almost snorted as I took a sip of my soda. What had I been thinking? Of course a guy like Rhys hadn’t been flirting with me.

  Chapter Three

  Rhys

  WHEN I’D SEEN CALEB walk into the bar, a part of me was sure I was dreaming. This was the guy who'd literally run away from me the last time we spoke. But there he’d been, looking both gorgeous and nervous at the same time.

  I’d half-expected him to turn down my offer to talk, and even as I finished up the inventory, I was sure I’d walk out into the bar and find him gone. It was easy to see that he was shy and a bit unsure of himself, but there was also a hint of fear there that had me wondering what had happened to him. It could just be from me seeing him at a vulnerable time, but it felt like more than that.

  When the last of the boxes was broken down and put in the recycling dumpster out back, I quickly washed my hands and headed out into the bar.

  Caleb was still there

  He’d taken a seat at a two-person table that was in the back corner. It was far from the other pa
trons in the bar, and it was almost out of range of the speakers. He’d found the quietest place to sit.

  “He’s still here.” Tristan handed me a soda and my sweater as I came up to the bar.

  “Thanks. Blaze here yet?”

  “He’s talking to Evan in the office.”

  “You okay by yourself? I can stick around until he comes out.”

  “It’s fine.” Tristan waved off my offer and nodded to where Caleb was sitting. “I think you’d better get over there before he bolts on you.”

  “Probably a good plan.”

  I nodded my goodbyes and made my way over to Caleb.

  Would you rather sign or talk in here? I asked as I sat across from him.

  “We can talk if that makes you more comfortable. I can read your lips as long as you’re looking at me.”

  It’s not about what makes me comfortable; it’s about what would be easier for you.

  Signing would be easier.

  I smiled and took a sip of my drink. I’m glad you came by.

  I wanted to apologize for leaving like I did.

  You mean running away? I grinned to take the sting out of my words. It’s not the reaction I usually get when I offer guys a ride, but it’s fine.

  I was freaked out from the seizure... Caleb’s hands stilled as he seemed to search for a way to articulate whatever thought was going through his head.

  It’s fine, really. I assured him. You were in a vulnerable place. I’m a stranger. I was being too forward-

  No. Caleb shook his head as he cut me off. It was a kind offer. I just reacted the wrong way.

  However you reacted is the right way. If I freaked you out and you felt the need to escape, then that’s fine. You’re entitled to feel whatever it is that you did.

  Caleb stared at me for a long time, his dark eyes locked on mine.

  I’m sorry, I talk a lot, even when I’m not using my voice, I apologized, hoping I hadn't said something wrong.

  It’s not that. He worried his full bottom lip between his teeth, and I had to physically stop myself from reaching out to pull it free. If offering him a drive home had made him run, touching him without permission would probably send him flying through the emergency exit.

  What is it? I asked to try and distract myself from his lips.

  No one’s ever said that before.

  Said what?

  That I’m allowed to feel what I do.

  That statement was loaded, and I had a feeling that my next words would be critical in determining if this conversation moved any further.

  You’re always allowed to feel what you do and react however you need to. It might not be polite or proper, but as long as you’re not hurting anyone, then always be true to yourself.

  I must have said something right because Caleb smiled, and the transformation was incredible.

  His eyes lit up and almost sparkled, and he had the cutest little crinkles in the corner of his eyes. His grin was wide and genuine and a little crooked, which I thought was absolutely adorable, and even his skin flushed a light pink.

  That part wasn’t so adorable, because the first thing I thought of was if he’d have that same flush after a deep and long make-out session. That led me to think about how soft and full his lips looked and how incredible they’d feel against mine.

  Thankfully Caleb raised his hands to say something before my mind could take a complete detour into dirty town. What the fuck was wrong with me? It’s not like I wasn’t used to controlling my reactions to men I found attractive. I’d pretty much turned it into an art form by the time I was fifteen.

  Caleb was a beautiful man, but he was also shy and a little skittish. Openly flirting with him was not a good idea. It was time to rein in the hormones and focus on the topic at hand.

  Thank you again for helping me.

  Of course, and you’re welcome. How are you feeling today?

  Fine, a little sore, but there aren’t any lasting effects from a drop seizure.

  I paused, not sure if I should ask my next question.

  Go ahead, you can ask me.

  Are those the only kinds of seizures you have?

  No. I have tonic-clonic ones as well.

  He must have seen my blank look because he spelled the term out before continuing. I’d never heard of those before.

  They used to be called Grand Mal, if that helps.

  I nodded. That I’d heard before.

  Do those happen a lot? I asked, hoping I wasn’t getting too personal.

  My medication controls them pretty well. But they still happen.

  I noticed that Caleb seemed to relax the more I asked him questions. It was nice and prompted me to keep asking him about himself.

  He worked as a computer programmer, and I’d had to stop him about a half a dozen times to get him to spell out the technical terms he was using to describe what he did. I was about as computer savvy as the average octogenarian. I was good with my phone and could work my tablet, but other than email, Google, porn, and the odd cam show, I didn’t use my laptop.

  I was able to figure out that he was working on a video game, another thing I knew nothing about, and he seemed to enjoy his job.

  Then he asked about me.

  So you work here full-time?

  My normal answer would have been yes, and that’s it. But I had the overwhelming urge to tell Caleb a little more about myself and the full truth.

  I do now. I started about nine months ago.

  What did you do before that? he asked.

  I was an investment broker for my dad’s company. I started there right out of college and quit three years ago. After that, I worked on a road crew until I interviewed for a job here.

  Caleb stared at me for a moment as he processed what I’d just said. I expected a lot of follow-up questions, but he surprised me.

  Are you happier here than you were?

  I’m happier here than I’ve ever been. I answered honestly.

  Then that’s all that matters.

  Caleb gave me another one of those brilliant smiles and leaned back in his seat.

  What is it? I asked as he glanced over my shoulder.

  I have to get home so I can get my work done. I’m on a tight deadline.

  I’d like to meet up again, hang out. Is that something you’d be interested in? I asked impulsively.

  By the way his eyes widened and his breathing hitched, I knew I’d thrown him.

  As friends? he asked after a long pause.

  Yes, if that’s what you want.

  What do you want?

  I’d like to go out on a date.

  I’d never seen anyone embody the term “deer in headlights” until I saw Caleb’s look.

  A date, date?

  He hadn’t come out and told me he was gay, but I’d gone with my gut and asked him out anyway. Now I wasn’t so sure I’d been right.

  Or friends. We can always hang out as friends if you’re not interested in a date.

  It’s not that I’m not interested... it’s just that I don’t really date.

  How about this; we exchange numbers and get to know each other better. The offer of a date still stands, but I’m more than happy to start as friends and see how things go.

  You don’t mind taking things slow like that?

  Of course not. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  The truth was this was way outside my wheelhouse. I wasn’t a date kind of guy. Almost all of my interactions with men started with either Grindr or Chimera. I could flirt and tease and take a good selfie and a great dick pic, but none of that would work with Caleb. He was the opposite of what I usually went for, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get to know him better and move at whatever pace he was comfortable with.

  After another pause, Caleb pulled out his phone and unlocked it. He handed it to me, and I typed in my number. I waited as he created a contact listing for me, and when my phone vibrated in my pocket, I knew he’d texted to give me h
is number.

  I’m really glad you came back.

  Me too. He blushed as we stood.

  How about you text me when you have some time? Once your deadline is passed or whatever.

  Sure. He shifted from foot to foot as he bit his lip.

  Want to walk out together?

  He nodded, and we silently fell into step together. I waved to Blaze and Tristan when we passed the bar, and when we were outside, I turned to Caleb,

  Have a good night, Caleb.

  You too, Rhys. He gave me one more shy smile and headed down the street.

  My eyes fell on his ass as his jeans clung to his perfect bubble butt. While he was lean and tall, his ass was full and round and perky as fuck.

  I had no idea what was going to happen, if anything, but I was very happy he’d stopped by to see me.

  FOUR DAYS LATER, I wasn’t sure what to make of the radio silence. I knew Caleb had work to do, and we’d only had one conversation, so he didn’t owe me anything, but I was disappointed. I’d hoped he’d felt at least some of the connection that I did, but maybe I’d read the signals wrong.

  Plus there was that whole shy and slightly fearful vibe he had going on. I had no idea what was causing it, but it complicated things.

  When Friday rolled around and I had the night off, I was at a loss of what to do. Normally I would have gone to Chimera, but I wasn’t feeling it. I wasn’t in the mood to play the game, and there was no point going to a club alone if I wasn’t trying to pick up. Tristan and Layla were working, so there went my only other options to hang out.

  “Okay Netflix, entertain me.” I flopped down on my couch with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. I’d done my usual ninety-minute workout earlier, so I could have a few guilt-free drinks tonight.

  I was trying to decide between a gay comedy I’d been meaning to watch and reruns of an old sitcom when my phone pinged. I picked it up, expecting it to be Tristan, but it was Caleb’s name that flashed on my screen.

  Hi, it’s Caleb.

  The message was very succinct and open, and exactly what I would have expected from him.

  Hi yourself :) How have you been?

  Good. My project ran over, and there was a bunch of coding issues to resolve. But it’s over, and I can breathe again.