Jason is the only person in
the waiting room when the two guys enter. As the door opens, he
looks up from the magazine he isn’t reading and almost smiles
because the first guy is a kid his own age, early twenties, with a shock of
bleached hair hanging in front of his face. But when he shakes his
head, throwing the hair aside, Jason sees the hard green gaze
staring him down and his smile dies.
The kid steps into the room and stops, the way
a prospective buyer steps into a run-down apartment and studies his
surroundings—with an air of vague disgust, as if one can’t possibly
believe he might be interested in this place. He takes in the
overstuffed furniture in muted pastel hues that hint at color, the
leafy potted plants in the corners, the low wooden tables covered
in old issues of People and Sports Illustrated, and his expression
never changes. The glare in his eyes never fades.
He holds the door for the man
behind him. He’s older than the kid is, much older—the first
thought that pops into Jason’s mind is this is Dad, only there’s no
family resemblance between the two. The kid is tall and thin,
almost gangly, all elbows and long limbs, and while the man is
roughly the same height, he’s well-built, stocky in the places
where men over thirty-five usually are. An uncle then, a good
fifteen or twenty years older than the kid is. His skin is deeply
tanned and lined like old leather, his short, dark hair peppered
with gray. When he walks, he favors his left leg.
The kid frowns at the leg as the
older man passes him. “Does it hurt much?” he wants to know. He
speaks loudly, like he wants the whole waiting room to overhear,
then glances around to see if anyone’s listening. Quickly, Jason
drops his gaze back to the magazine open in his lap.
“It’s okay,” the man replies.
Jason hears the door latch shut and dares to look up again. Seeing
him, the man nods, a polite gesture that makes the boy with him
scowl harder. A thin hand takes the man’s arm possessively, then
trails down the sleeve of his bulky winter coat to lace through his
thick fingers. An uncle, Jason thinks again, as the kid guides the
man to the reception desk.
Before the nurse
behind the desk can speak, the kid tells her, “We have an
appointment.” No shit, Jason wants to say. He refuses to look up
from the magazine again because he knows that’s what the kid wants.
He can practically feel those eyes boring into him, begging to be
acknowledged. Jason isn’t playing the audience here. “At ten
o’clock,” the kid continues in his loudhear mevoice. “With
Doctor—”
“Sign in, please,” the nurse
interrupts.
Jason senses the
kid’s irritation. It radiates from him in waves like summer heat.
Jason ducks his head and raises the magazine to hide his
smirk.Put you in your place, didn’t
she?They’re both here for appointments.
It’s a freaking doctor’s office, for Christ’s sake. What, does he
think Jason’s just sitting here for the hell of
it?
“Wesley,” the man warns. His is a
deep voice that rumbles through the room, soft and commanding like
distant thunder. From his weary tone, Jason suspects he has to
reprimand the boy often.
Wesley sighs. “Sign in, she
said.”
Without raising
his head, Jason watches them over the top of the magazine. The man
signs the clipboard—left-handed, because his other hand is held
tight between both of Wesley’s own. The closer the kid leans into
him, the more Jason begins to think maybe an attraction stronger
than family binds the two together. His groin stirs at the thought,
because the boy is nice looking and the old man isn’tthatold, but then the
pain in his lower belly flares to life and he stifles the thought.
“Put my name, too,” Wesley murmurs, watching the man write. Even
when he’s trying to keep it down, Jason has no trouble hearing him
halfway across the room.
“I’m the patient here,” the man
replies. There’s a faint humor in his tone, as if he thinks
Wesley’s being cute. Silently, Jason agrees.
“I’m here with you,” Wesley
argues. “Put me down, too.”
Behind the desk, the nurse rolls
her eyes, annoyed. “Whichever one of you has the appointment,” she
tells them.
The man gives Wesley an indulgent
smile that lights up his brown eyes and takes years off his
weathered face. “Me,” he says. There it is again, something Jason
can’t quite place that hints at more than avuncular affection. The
eyes, maybe, or the fingers that squeeze Wesley’s own. With the
slightest tug, he starts to move away from the desk.