He was so fucking reasonable I wanted to punch him. Kind of. I wanted to do other things to him too, but most of all, I wanted to lean on him and absorb his warmth. To feel his heavy arm draped around me again so I could sleep off the rest of my pill buzz.
As if he’d heard my errant thoughts, Gus leant closer. His dark eyes flickered like glowing embers, and—
The receptionist called my name.
In slow motion, I swung my gaze to her, breaking my connection with Gus. A growl built in my chest, but he nudged me before my natural malevolence burst free.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this done.”
I’d almost forgotten why we were there. Gus helped me to my feet and steered me to the reception desk. He filled out forms for me and pointed at places I needed to sign. Somehow I still possessed my battered driving licence. The receptionist photocopied it and reminded me I’d need to return within the month with proof I was living at Gus’s address.
A month. Shit. I’d had plans to be gone two weeks ago, and yet I was still here, surgically attached to Gus’s side as he parented me through the simple fucking process of registering for medical care.
“He needs an appointment,” Gus said when the paperwork was done. “Is the sit and wait clinic running today?”
“Until half eleven. Take a seat.”
Gus towed me back to the hard plastic chairs we’d left behind.
“We don’t have to do this today,” I protested. “I can come back.”
“Or you could stay and get it sorted now.”
“Sorted?” I laughed without humour. “Don’t you think if there was a magic pill I’d have swallowed it by now?”
“I didn’t mean sorted in the literal sense. I know what it’s like to recover from surgery, dude. I know it takes time.”
Of course he did. He had a drawer full of meds leftover from knee surgery. Shamefully, I’d forgotten that too.Self-absorbed prick.“What happened to your knee?”
Gus sat down and gestured for me to do the same. “Slid down a ladder too fast. Landed bad. It was only cartilage damage, though. I can’t imagine what it was like to break the bones.”
Unbidden, memories of waking up to rods protruding from my shattered shoulder flashed through my mind. I couldn’t recall much with any clarity, but fuck, I remembered the pain. “It’s a weird thing,” I said slowly. “To realise your bones are fragile things, not something invisible that you take for granted.”
Gus nodded. “Like lots of stuff, I’d imagine. Can I ask you something?”
“Not if you’re about to compare my shitty bone-breaking analogy to my relationship with my brother.”
“I’m not.”
I nodded for him to continue. He folded his arms across his chest, dashing my hopes that he might touch me again. “What happened to your knuckles? I feel like I’m missing something really obvious.”
“Oh.” I sat back in my chair. “I already told you it’s stupid.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why, so I reckon it’s probably not.”
“Fucking psychic, are you?”
“Do I need to be to understand you?”
“Why do you want to understand me?”
Gus rolled his eyes. Just like he’d done at my reticent, closed-book motherfucker of a brother, and something inside me gave way. A wall I’d perhaps not known was there. I wasn’t like Luke. I couldn’t be, or we were all fucked.
All? Right. Cos there was a fucking army of people wanting to hear my tales of woe.
But Gus wanted to listen, and I’d run out of reasons not to let him.
I blew out a noisy breath. “I punch stuff when my shoulder hurts...like, really hurts. You know, the kind of pain that consumes every part of you until you can’t think about anything else.”