Rusty tried to leer, aiming a look around Cross’s groin. “I don’t mostly like you for your personality.”
That at least got a chuckle. “Right. I’m a sex object for sure right now, kid.”
Hot anger flashed through Rusty. “I’m not a kid.”
“Sorry. I know.”
“Do you?” He stood up and stepped to Cross’s bedside. Before he could overthink it, he set a hand under Cross’s chin, bent, and kissed him. Cross’s lips were dry, his mouth stale. Rusty made the kiss solid, but didn’t linger. “Do you really?”
When he straightened, Cross ran a hand across his lips. “We should probably talk.”
“Probably, but not now.” Rusty could hear that brush-off coming a mile away and he was going to dodge it as hard as he could. “Not while you’re in pain and on heavy drugs and your whole summer got rearranged in the span of thirty seconds.”
“I guess.”
“I know.” He ran his hand down Cross’s cheek, feeling the roughness of stubble coming in. “You think I’m young but remember, I know all about having your life rearranged in one crashing minute.”
Cross caught his fingers. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Mike and your parents—”
“Yeah, well, me too,” Rusty interrupted. “But it means I know how fucked up I was at first. I figure you are too. So no making big decisions yet, right?”
“I suppose.”
Rusty squeezed Cross’s hand. “Right. One day at a time.” He remembered how he’d felt, standing in front of his parents after they’d reassured him that he could be not-gay if he only tried. Remembered that moment when he told his mother he’d been gay long before his brother Mike even knew what his balls were for. The moment when he moved from their misled-but-loved son to someone so evil, so alien, he couldn’t even be allowed to say goodbye to his younger brothers.
He’d driven to Scott’s ranch on autopilot, and there’d been a moment when he almost drove on past. Almost kept going down the road until his gas or his money ran out, and he trashed hisfuture in that dark, blind pit. “I almost made some really fucked up choices at first.”
“I have a lot of resources you didn’t,” Cross murmured.
“Uh huh, but will you use them? Or will you tell me and Marie you’re fine and to fuck off, you don’t need us?”
Cross’s lips twisted, and Rusty bent for another kiss before either of them said something they couldn’t come back from. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I think you’re too independent for your own good, but I didn’t come up here to give you a hard time. I came to see if I could do anything, even if it’s just take your mind off shit for a while. You want to, I don’t know, watch some game tape, or tell me about when you were a green rookie and all the mistakes you made?”
Cross pulled his fingers from Rusty’s grip. “So I have to do all the talking in this scenario?”
“Nah, I could tell you a story.” Rusty sat in the chair and racked his brains for something to distract Cross. “Hey, I should tell you about this time Will took me with him to find a cow that’d figured out how to break fences by sitting on them.” He tried to make his inexperience and the wily cow’s adventure amusing. By the time he reached the part with the snake, he saw Cross’s eyes had shut. He paused, waiting for a nudge to go on, but all he got was a fluttering snore.
Good enough.
Obviously, Cross was worn out and Rusty hadn’t missed the crease in Cross’s forehead and the restless way he fidgeted on the bed that marked pain not even the good drugs were controlling. If he could sleep, that was a win.
Rusty searched for a pen or bit of paper to leave a note, and ended up with a fat marker from a ledge on the whiteboard on the wall, and a paper towel. Odds were, Marie might see his words so he didn’t want to write anything embarrassing. In the end, he put, “Good luck with surgery. Text me. R.” and propped the note up on the chair beside the bed. Then he eased out of the room, shutting the door as quietly as he could.
The guy in the chair outside the room gave him the same flat, disdainful stare as when he arrived. Rusty couldn’t help saying, “I didn’t smother him with a pillow, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He had a moment to regret the quip as the guy surged to his feet, but from down the hall, Marie called, “Rusty. Hey, you came.”
She gave the bodyguard a wave and the man returned to his chair with a grunt that Rusty was free to interpret at will.
Marie stopped in front of Rusty. “How’s RJ?”
“Sleeping. He just dropped off.” He didn’t want to tell her not to go in and wake him, but he tried to convey that idea. “He seemed really tired. Some of the Rafters came by earlier.”
“He probably needs his rest.” Marie tilted her head. “I’d love the chance to talk to you. Can I buy you a coffee?”
“Uh, I have to get going. I have a game tonight and traffic down the 5 will only be worse the later it gets.”
“Let me walk you out to your truck, then.” She turned back toward the elevator.
