“You don’t think like that now, do you?”
Max shook his head, his eyes fixed firmly on Jed’s foot. “No. Coming here changed me in more ways than I can ever explain. It was hard,reallyhard, but it gave me a way to start over, you know? I’m happy being gay now. I would never wish it away.”
“Me too.” Jed chewed slowly. The bowl was far from empty, but he knew he was done. “I was never ashamed, but I did spend a long time trying to ignore it. Sometimes, I guess I still do. Until I met you, it was easier that way.”
He set the bowl aside. Max looked as though he might protest, but he said nothing. Jed took a moment to compose himself. He felt sick, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He glanced around. His gaze fell on his laptop. “How did that get here?”
Max followed his stare. “You asked me to bring it for you.”
“Huh?”
“You said you wanted it.”
“When did I say that?”
Max checked his watch. “About five hours ago. What’s in that bloody IV? Rohypnol?”
It may as well have been for all Jed could remember. Most of the day was a blur. Max squeezed his foot. The sensation was unfamiliar but intimate, and gave him the courage to ask a loaded question of his own. “Do you remember the day your parents were killed?”
Max stilled his devilish fingers, his face drawn into an expression Jed had never seen before. He thought perhaps he wouldn’t answer, then Max let out a long breath, like he was lifting a weight from his shoulders. “Not really. I used to get flickers from time to time—sounds more than anything else—but not anymore. Now it feels like it happened to someone else.”
Max was lying, by omission, if nothing else, but this time, Jed let it go. Every man was entitled to his own nightmares.
“The worst part was not being able to go to their funerals. I was in intensive care, and everyone thought I was dead.”
Jed stretched out the kinks in his spine. “That sucks.”
“I know. I was awake, though. I got to choose the song for my dad. Kim told me they played it.” Max exhaled a shaky breath. “I cut my hair a week later. A nurse had put a radio in my room, and the song came on as I was shaving my head. It made me worry that he wouldn’t recognize me if we met in another life.”
A nurse came in. Max ducked his head. The nurse fiddled with Jed’s IVs and touched his arm. “Do you need anything? You look a little pale, honey.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She left. Jed pulled Max’s hands away from his face. “What song did you choose?”
“Hmm? Oh, a Cat Stevens one.”
“Which one?”
“‘Trouble.’ It was my dad’s favorite.”
Jed didn’t know that one, but then he didn’t know much about music, period. He tugged on Max’s hand.
Max looked startled. “What’s up?”
Instead of words, Jed pulled on Max until he got the hint and leaned close enough that Jed could kiss him. The kiss was light and sweet, like they were lying in the sun, touched by its warmth without a care in the world.
Then Max pulled away with a smile that broke Jed’s heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MAXRUBBEDa hand over the buzz of stubble on his head. He felt frazzled. His brain hurt. It had been two weeks since Jed lost his shit over the photographs in Kim’s art boxes, and only now was he beginning to understand why.
Jed had been in the hospital for a week, and over the past few days they’d fallen into a routine. Max came to the hospital at dawn each morning and stayed until Jed fell asleep sometime before lunch. Then he went back to the cabin, took care of business, and returned in the evening to sit with Jed until it was time to retrieve Flo from the children’s ward and catch the last bus home. Most mornings Jed was exhausted and had little to say, but the evenings invariably found him more alert and willing to talk, and tonight seemed to be one of those nights.
Max drew the photograph across the retractable bedside table acting as a barrier between them. He stared hard at the grainy image of a low-flying helicopter and tapped his finger on the dulled surface. “This is you?”
“The one and only,” Jed said dryly.