Trapping Drake 02 - Setting The Trap Page 5

  “Just a second, Drake. He’s picking up. Jesse? Honey, it’s Jay. I’m fine. It’s Drake. He’s here at the ER getting some stitches. We need you to come pick him up and take him home.”

  The doctor, a tall angular man in his early thirties, entered the cubicle at that moment, and frowned sternly at Jay on the phone before turning his attention to Drake on the gurney. “Well, Mr. Fallon. Feeling numb, now are we?”

  Drake rolled his eyes and kicked his feet impatiently aginst the metal frame of the gurney. “My arm is. I don’t know about you. I’m hoping you aren’t too numb to sew me up.” The doctor wasn’t amused. Jay was though. He could tell by the renewed twitching of his lips.

  “Nurse, if you’re done with the phone, I could use some help here.”

  Drake stiffened at the asshole’s impatient tone. He might resent the fuck out of Jay right now for standing between him and Jesse, but damned if the doc had any right to talk to his lover like that!

  “Bite me, Clive.” Jay threw at the doctor. “I’m talking to his boyfriend about coming to pick him up. Stupid cop thought he could drive himself home after getting sewn up.”

  Indistinguishable squawking came through the receiver, but it didn’t sound like Jesse approved of that at all.

  “You’re lucky we have such a hard time finding competent staff,” The doctor taunted. He took over poking and prodding at Drake’s arm. Clattering instruments on a metal tray tried to distract Drake, but he pinned his gaze on Jay. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like he might get his pampering after all.

  “Half an hour, Jesse. I’ll walk him out to you.” Jay tucked the phone away and gave his whole attention to the smirking physician. “Don’t give me that bullshit about the top of the top. Your 4.0 doesn’t mean anything more than mine, except about sixty thousand dollars more debt. Your bedside manner sucks and you’re hurting him!”

  The codeine’s melty warm fog made Jay sound loving. Drake closed his eyes and pretended it was true. He could do that under the influence of drugs. Sober, he had to stay safe, to protect himself. Three months of hot sex and random dates had shown him that. The twins loved each other, and he was a novelty whose charm could wear off any time. A little emotional distance kept things right for all of them.

  And when he was past the weakness of seeing his empty life flash before his eyes, he’d remember that. For now, he wanted his boyfriends with him. “Hey, can you come too?”

  “Mr. Cahill has a shift to finish, Mr. Fallon.” The doctor’s grip on his arm tightened, and Drake glared. The needle piercing his skin didn’t hurt, but the pinch and pressure unsettled him.

  The tiny little sound of the thread pulling through rasped sickeningly loud in his ears. He took refuge from the nausea in aggression. Who was this asshole to order Jay around? “He’s supposed to have the day off today because he starts nights soon. This is supposed to be our time together, Clive.” He sneered. The doctor’s deft movements stilled.

  Drake kept glaring. Jay snorted in the background, hovering.

  “Your boyfriend isn’t enough company for you?” Now the doctor sounded pissy, his grip hard and uncomfortable, knuckles white in the fluorescent lights of the cubicle.

  “I want them both.” Drake sighed wearily. He let the tension fade. Wanting both was wrong. In that second his mind settled on Dr. Clive’s problem. His eyes flew open and he nearly jerked his arm out of the man’s grip. “You asshole! You want him too! You’re jealous!”

  Jay’s protest was indistinguishable in the background; all Drake’s attention was focused on the doctor’s pale brown eyes, his thick beetled brows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man blustered and tied off the string of stitches with a pair of forceps. “Your stitches are done. The discharge staff will have instructions for you, please see your physician about removing the stitches within ten days.” Without another word or glance in Jay’s direction, the white-coated doctor left the cubicle.

  Drake turned accusing eyes on Jay. “He wants to fuck you.”

  Sighing dramatically, Jay pushed up the sleeves of the thermal shirt he wore under his scrubs. “I don’t want him. I want you and Jesse. That’s plenty of men fucking me. A third one would just get in the way.”

  Ouch. “I’m a third.” Vulnerability seared a path straight from his heart to his brain, but it was too late to keep those words from being heard, and he couldn’t think of any way to make himself sound less pathetic after uttering them, either, so he went for a red herring. “It’s sexual harassment in the work place. There are laws about that.”

  Jay stepped in close to the gurney and started fussing with Drake’s clothes. “He asked. I said no, end of story. He doesn’t harass me; I don’t throw it in his face. You shouldn’t have, either. He wasn’t out of line.”

  “Wanting what’s mine is always out of line.” God damn drugs were going to do him in one way or another today.

  The fabric cubicle curtain was pulled aside with a rattle, and a cheery black woman stood there in red scrubs with bright yellow rubber ducks in clown regalia. Drake winced and closed his eyes. Clowns. “It just keeps getting better.” He mumbled.

  “I’m Jaycee, and I have your discharge papers. That’s as good as it gets around here!” The woman’s perky voice chirped right on.

  He signed where he was told, and trusted that Jay was listening to the rest of it. He just wanted to go home.

  Chapter Seven

  While Drake drifted in and out of sleep, the television played in the background, a variety of nature documentaries and reality television shows that seemed to make up the science channel programming these days.

  Drake was settled on the sofa, covered with a soft cotton Indian blanket in ambers and yellows and oranges. His injured arm with its bright white bandage rested on a beaded tapestry pillow from the garment district. His eyelashes rested in thick crescents on his tan skin.

  Jesse had expected the macho cop to balk at taking the pain killers the doctor had prescribed for the first twenty-four hours, but Drake had docilely accepted the acetaminophen laced with codeine and let Jesse settle him on the couch with a rueful chuckle. The codeine had made him mellow and affectionate, less guarded and more open. Every now and then his eyelids flicked open and he searched the room warily, smiling faintly when his glance landed on Jesse before falling shut again.

  The one time Jesse had left the room and Drake had wakened unable to find him, he’d nearly panicked until Jesse had called out from the bedroom where he’d been hanging up shirts the dry cleaners had delivered. He’d confined his activities to the huge comfortable family room for the remainder of the afternoon, so Drake wouldn’t have to wake up alone. Working out here wasn’t a hardship anyway. It was his favorite room in the house. The cheery yellow kitchen and family room were really one big room leading into the back yard entertainment area through huge sliding glass doors. The room was beautiful, but it was his favorite because he and Jay had practically built it themselves. It was how he pictured their lives together, bright. Open, lovely.

  One day, the whole house would reflect that. When they could afford more remodeling. For now, Jesse smiled at the man he loved. One of them, anyway. Drake had insisted that he wanted pampering, but had really required very little except Jesse’s company. Which was fine. Jesse had to make the lesson plans for several weeks worth of classes, and he’d decided on a new theme for the semester when he’d heard about Gerald’s accident. He wanted lesson plans that a bed-ridden boy would enjoy, that would teach his whole group of senior literature students something about family and what it meant.

  In between selecting essays, poems, short stories and novels to drive his point home, he had begun preparations for a dinner that would be easy on Drake’s stomach and filling. The home made chicken noodle soup simmered on a back burner, and Jesse sat peeling apples into lemon water for a fresh apple crisp. Served with ice cream it would be the perfect dessert.

  “I thought you were making a chocolate pie?” Ja
y slung two grey plastic bags from the grocery store onto the counter.

  Frowning, Jesse dropped his apple into the water bowl and began to unpack the bags. “It’s too rich; it’ll upset his stomach with the drugs, won’t it? Why didn’t you use the recyclable bags?” They had a stack of environmentally approved re-usable grocery bags in both cars.

  “Didn’t have the jeep. I had to take what they had. Just use them to reline the trash cans.” Jay leaned over the counter and kissed Jesse softly. “Missed you. How is he?”

  Flicking a glance at Drake, who hadn’t stirred for at least half an hour, Jesse pulled Jay back for a deeper kiss. “Mmm. I think he’s okay. He’s just been out of it all afternoon.”

  Jay’s thin fingers curled around Jesse’s jaw and his sweet breath just hinted at the acrid taste of tobacco as it rushed over Jesse’s mouth. “The codeine might make him queasy. Chicken soup was a good meal plan.”

  Jesse stared into his brother’s blue eyes, so pale and intense. “You were worried about him and me here alone?”

  Color rushed into Jay’s cheeks and he ducked his head. “No. I... Jesse, I have to tell you something.”

  Puzzled, Jesse pulled his chin from Jay’s hand and seated himself on a stool. “Okay. Do you mind if I peel while you tell me? I’d like to get this baked and cooled for dinner.”

  Jay nudged aside one of the stools to make room at the counter then leaned to the center to draw another paring knife from the butcher block. “I’ll help. I could use something to do.”

  He resisted the urge to protest. Jay wasn’t inept in the kitchen, Jesse was just a little bit of a perfectionist. “How about you peel and I’ll slice? Try not to peel too much fruit with the skin, okay?” That way he could control the size of the slices and... “Shit. I’m sorry. I’m such a control freak sometimes. The crisp will cook more evenly if the slices are all the same thickness, Jay. That’s all.”

  Startled blue eyes met his. “Huh? I didn’t say anything. I’m happy to peel.” And Jay began peeling, long thin ribbons of pale green apple skin coiling around his fingers to fall to the table. Jesse watched those strong hands, their nimble movements sure and unconsciously sensual. He shook off the allure and picked up the apple he’d peeled right before Jay arrived. He sliced it into neat, even pieces for the filling.

  “You said you wanted to talk?” He prodded when Jay sat concentrating on his apple peeling.

  “Drake came to see me for lunch today.” The fine fingers trembled a little, slowed in their motions.

  Some odd note in Jay’s voice brought Jesse’s gaze to his face instead of his hands. His twin’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes downcast. He swallowed hard, and Jesse thought it must have been a painful gesture, because his lips tightened and thinned.

  “I know, I told him to, remember?”

  “He brought me Indian food.” The splash of the apple Jay had peeled landing in the bowl of ice water followed the moody comment.

  Jesse paused in his slicing. “You like Indian food.” Why did it matter?

  “Yeah. We didn’t eat it.”

  Indignation on Drake’s behalf sparked. “Jay! When a man goes to all the trouble—”

  “Because we were too busy fucking like bunnies in the supply closet.” Jay threw the knife on the table and Jesse couldn’t guess what it cost his brother to meet his eyes at that moment.

  All he could read was shame, regret in the depths of Jay’s eyes. “Okay. That’s a problem? He didn’t hurt you did he?” He cast a glance at the dozing Drake. No way could Drake harm anyone. His stomach tensed and he put down his own knife. Covering Jay’s shaking hands with his, Jesse leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just... It wasn’t planned. Don’t be mad, okay?”

  “I’m not mad. I love you. I love him; I love the two of you together. It’s what I’ve wanted since we started this whole thing.” He studied his brother intently. “This isn’t a bad thing, Jay. You didn’t cheat on me. This is a step in the right direction, it’s where we need to go.”

  “Now, I guess since I’ve had sex alone with him, I should trust you and him alone, too, huh?” Jay’s voice was weak, and Jesse knew that whatever he said, he didn’t really trust Jesse and Drake without him.

  “You don’t have to. It’s not a quid pro quo type of thing, Jay. Drake doesn’t mind the two of us together when he’s not here, so we can make love any time. You and Drake, I like the idea of you two taking care of each other when I can’t be there, so go ahead. Fuck like bunnies in whatever locale suits you. It won’t hurt me.”

  “But what if I still don’t want you fucking Drake when I’m not there?”

  “That’s not really fair, is it?” Drake rumbled from across the room. “If it’s okay for us to pair off, then any pair should be good, shouldn’t it?”

  Jesse scowled at Drake as he pushed his way upright on the sofa. “I don’t mind, Drake.”

  Drake’s brow rose challengingly. “And what if I do? What if I looked forward to being alone with you?”

  “Then I’d say you’re an insensitive clod.”

  Drake stood, swayed a little, then caught his balance and strode over to the counter. “It’s not cloddish to expect equality in a relationship. We’ve been working with less than equality for months now, letting one person’s insecurity define how everything goes. I’m not the kind of guy who lets someone else control my life, Jesse.”

  “Fuck you, Drake. I might love you, but I love Jay too. He’s been the light of my life for longer than I can even explain, and if he needs more time to get comfortable in this relationship, then he gets more time!”

  “I’m tired of waiting and playing third wheel, Jesse.” The hard comment hurt, and Jesse’s fears were justified as he realized that Drake really wasn’t as patient as he’d appeared all this time. Well, if choices had to be made, there really wasn’t one was there?

  “Then why don’t you—”

  Again Jay interrupted. “I don’t think time is going to be what it takes to solve this, guys.”

  Both of them swung around to look at Jay whose voice had regained its vigor. His cheeks were still flushed, and his fingers twitched as he reached for his cigarettes, then jerked away to fold his hands in his lap.

  “Fine, that’s just fine. I knew this moment would arrive.” Drake grumbled.

  “You never had any intention of staying for the long haul, did you?” Jesse accused. He scooped an apple slice from the bowl and handed it to Jay to chew on. The act would distract his twin from the need for nicotine.

  “I planned to stay as long as you let me.” Drake glared outright now, his brows drawn tight, his arms crossed defensively.

  “You should move in.” Jay spoke through a mouthful of apple.

  “That’s not going to solve anything. How does giving up and moving on solve anything? We have something special here, but we need to take some time and work it out.” Jay’s words sank in and Jesse turned to his twin in surprise. “You said...”

  “I think Drake should move in.”

  “Damn right I should.” Drake frowned. “Wait... You want me to move in?”

  “I’m not going to get used to you being around if you’re never around. I’m not going to say I won’t call fifty thousand times when I’m working and you and Jesse are here alone. I’m not saying I’m going to suddenly be comfortable and the jealousy will disappear and I’ll trust you both to never leave me on the outside.”

  “We’d never do that, Jay love.” Jesse murmured, heart aching. “You don’t have to invite him in here like this if you’re not ready.”

  Drake had made his way over to stand behind Jay, and wrapped his arms around the trembling man. “You really don’t. I’d love to be here, to be with you both, whenever we all have the chance. This morning was a big step for us, and it’s enough for now.”

  “It’s enough for you. But it’s not enough for me.” Jay’s trembling eased, and he leaned against Drake. Was he leaching strength from
the stalwart man as Jesse drew strength from his twin?

  “What happened, Jay?” He wanted to understand, before he agreed to this, wanted to be sure what Jay wasn’t making some noble sacrifice that would tear him to shreds inside.

  “I saw that kid, Gerald, lying in that bed, with his housekeeper and his parents who wouldn’t come home to visit him. And he didn’t expect anything better, because it was their anniversary, see? And why should they leave their anniversary trip to come home because the child they gave birth to was nearly killed in a car accident?”

  The words spilled out in a breathless rush and Jay clutched Drake’s arm around his waist, his eyes lit with determination. “I don’t want to be that kid. Not expecting anything, alone. It may not be fair, but I expect you two to understand that I’m not ready for you to be intimate without me in a supply closet or anywhere except my home. It may not be fair, but I want to know that I’m coming home to the two of you, that you’ll be here, that you’re together waiting for me.”

  Jesse’s eyes met Drake’s and he knew the guy was going to play it off cool, even though tears sparkled in the corners of his eyes. His voice was a little rough, his lips a little tight. “I can move in. If me living here makes you more secure about me and Jesse, then I can do that. What can I do to make you more secure about me and you, Jay?”

  Jesse swallowed the lump in his own throat. That was the issue at the core of it all. Not trust, security.

  Chapter Eight

  Jay swallowed hard. Was he reaching at straws? Taking risks with the most important thing in his life? Or was he being brave and accepting? It didn’t really fucking matter, he wanted something, and as he’d worked this afternoon, he’d realized what Drake was after this morning. He wanted, and if he expected to get, he had to do something about it, starting with making his needs clear to his lovers.