Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (37 page)

Once again, Tyler appreciated how Dr. Davis had gone out of his way to work Memphis in around his jam-packed schedule. As the surgeon headed down the corridor, for the first time, Tyler noticed the pair of cowboy boots peeking from beneath the blue scrubs, and he grinned.

His first impression hadn’t been too far off.

Memphis held his hand as they walked up the hallway leading toward the waiting area. As happy as his boyfriend had looked earlier, right now he appeared highly motivated to get out of the doctor’s office.

Tyler knew exactly how the man felt. “Are you in a hurry to leave?” he said with a smile.

“Hell yeah. I should have told Dr. Davis to just email me the list. I have things to do.”

“Such as?”

Memphis pursed his lips. “I want to schedule an interview with Thomas Brown. He’s Sean McDaniel’s rival at
The San Francisco Sun
,” he said with a grin. “Tom agreed to release the article just before the Bachelor Bid, providing a boost of publicity at just the right time. Better still”—his grin grew bigger—“it’ll piss Sean the card-carrying prick of a reporter off.” Their footsteps rang on the polished wood floor, and Memphis’s smug expression gave way to one of dread. “I also have to tell my family about my recent round of cancer. Jesus, Ty,” he said with a grimace. “They’re gonna flip out.”

Tyler squeezed his fingers, reminding him that he was
here
. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Mom has been yelling at me to bring you for a visit, anyway,” Memphis went on. “So I thought tomorrow we’d drive up to break the news to my parents.” He sent Tyler a hesitant look. “If that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay.” Tyler’s chest felt light. “It’ll be great to see them again.”

“Perfect.” The man hooked his arm around Tyler’s back and pulled him close, his voice low. “But first I want to get the fuck out of here and spend a nice, quiet, celebratory evening at home with you. In bed. Naked. Except maybe for the addition of a necktie, maybe two. And I think we should start the party”—Memphis glanced at his watch before sending him heated look—“right now.”

God
, yes.

The rapid-fire of Tyler's heart was distracting. They rounded the corner to enter the waiting room and stopped dead in their tracks.

So much for escaping.

Julissa sat on the couch, leaning against Noah. Tyler’s friend had his arm around her shoulders and a fluorescent pink bandanna covering his entire head and tied in back, black lettering across the front. And if that wasn’t surprising enough, Alec and Dylan sat on the couch to their left, Dylan with a Harley Motorcycle bandanna worn in a similar fashion as Noah.

What the hell was up with―?

“Whoa,” Memphis murmured before letting out a muted chuckle. “What’s with the biker gang?”

Tyler’s heart twitched at the sight of his friends even as the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. And he supposed Noah and Julissa’s budding friendship meant more mind-fuckery ahead, which should have scared Tyler senseless. But he didn’t care at all. Except he and Memphis were
supposed
to be on their way home to start celebrating.

Alone.

He turned to Memphis with an apology on his face. “If you want them gone, just say so,” Tyler whispered.

“And miss out on Noah giving you shit?” he whispered back. “Not a chance in the world.” Memphis steered Tyler into the room, his voice loud enough for all to hear. “Are we too late to join the party?”

There was a two-second delay in reaction as four sets of eyes landed on Memphis with concern, and then Julissa jumped to her feet. Even without makeup, her features were striking.

“What’s the news?” she asked.

“Thyroid cancer,” Memphis replied.

Silence.

“I don’t understand,” Julissa said.

The distress in her tone finally lit a fire under Tyler.

Get with the program, Dr. Hall
.
You have a job to do
.

Tyler adopted the same reassuring voice he’d used with Memphis. “It’s a result of his previous treatments. The cure rate is excellent, Julissa,” he said. “Ninety-seven percent.”

For two seconds, no one moved. Apparently being braced for bad news had the same effect on them all. Processing
good
news took time.

Memphis followed up with a soothing tone. “It’s much better than we expected, Jules.”

And then Julissa crossed the floor and threw her arms around her ex-husband, burying her face against his neck. Tyler wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her sniffling. Memphis shot Tyler a wink as he rubbed her back, murmuring comforting words. Tyler shifted his gaze to the left, hoping to give them a moment, and his gaze landed on the bright pink bandanna again. He frowned at Noah’s head as he finally realized what had been bugging him, other than the questionable fashion statement.

“What’s with the haircuts and the bandannas?” Tyler asked.

Dylan shifted on the couch and looked uncomfortable.

“I tried to talk them out of it,” Alec said, his lips fighting a smile. And failing. His blue eyes landed on Dylan with a fond acceptance honed to perfection over the past two years. “But Dylan blindly went along with Noah’s plan, as usual.”

Noah’s plan…

Paired together, they were the two most ominous words in the English language.

“Noah,” Tyler said slowly, drawing out the vowels in the name, “what did you do?”

His friend stood up. “Alec was sure the lump on Memphis’s neck meant cancer. So…” With the same flourish he applied to everything in life, Noah swept off his bandanna to reveal his shaved head. “Dylan and I are here to show our solidarity.”

Holy shit
.

Tyler stared in fascination at his friend, the man practically bald.

“That’s an awfully nice gesture,” Ky Davis said as he approached their group, a sheet of paper in hand.

Noah turned to face the doctor, and Tyler saw the double take in his friend’s eyes as he took in the very broad shoulders.

“Unfortunately,” the surgeon went on, “it’s an uninformed one. Mr. Haines won’t be losing his hair.”

Eyes wide, Noah said, “I…” The word ended on a high-pitched noise that sounded painful.

Tyler couldn’t tell which had flustered his friend more, the news he’d shaved his head for nothing or the doctor who stood before him, dwarfing Noah’s frame. Blinking, Noah slowly ran his gaze down the surgeon’s dark blue scrubs, landing on the scuffed leather covering his toes. And suddenly, he found his tongue.

“Oh, my
God
,” Noah said with horrified delight. “Are those cowboy boots?”

Tyler winced and wondered if his friend wanted to seduce the doctor or take him shopping.

Probably both.

With a glance at Noah, Tyler tried to infuse a subtle warning in his tone. “This is the surgeon, Dr. Kyland Davis.”

The hint of Texas in the doctor’s words grew stronger. “My friends call me Ky.”

After several beats, Noah snapped his mouth closed and covered his scalp with the bandanna, his fingers fumbling a little as he tied the knot in back. Tyler could just now make out the black lettering, the word “princess” in bold font stretched across Noah’s forehead.

“Ky?” Noah said. “Spelled K-Y, like the lubricant?”

Tyler wasn’t sure, but he might have groaned out loud. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as the surgeon gave Noah a long, blank stare and said nothing. He then turned and handed Memphis the paper.

“Here’s a list of doctors in the area specializing in thyroid cancer,” Ky Davis said. “I can also get you more information on the radioactive iodine treatment.”

“What kind of radiation?” Noah asked.

Christ, Noah.

Tyler waited for the doctor to say
none of your business
or for Memphis to look annoyed at the interruption. As usual, Memphis appeared to find Noah highly entertaining.

Ky Davis’s gaze briefly ticked to Noah’s bandanna. “Don’t get too excited…
princess
,” the doctor said dryly. “This affects thyroid tissue only. Mr. Haines still won’t be losing his hair.”

Noah opened his mouth, clearly about to speak again. Fortunately, Alec came to the rescue. He stepped forward, gripped his friend’s elbow, and dragged him back to sit on the couch. Tyler couldn’t make out the conversation that followed, but he heard Dylan’s, “Jesus, man. Why did I let you talk me into this?” followed by Noah’s, “For chrissakes, Dylan. It’s only hair.”

The surgeon spoke briefly with Memphis and then said good-bye, heading off the way he’d come. Tyler turned to apologize to his boyfriend for his friends, whose support was, at this point, highly questionable. Hands on his hips, Memphis was grinning as he watched the four people on the couch, the small group currently involved in a heated debate. They were discussing how long it would take Dylan’s hair to grow out.

After a moment, Memphis leaned in and whispered, “Think they’d notice if we snuck out for some alone time?”

“Eventually,” Tyler whispered back, amusement in his tone.

Memphis took his hand and pulled him toward the exit. As they went, Tyler could hear the ongoing conversation behind them as Memphis steered him out the door and toward the bank of elevators.

“Radioactive iodine, bro.” With a shit-eating grin, Memphis pushed the down button and the door opened. “I’m gonna develop freaking super powers,” he said as they entered the empty elevator.

Super powers? Seriously?

One glance at Tyler’s face and Memphis laughed and pulled him into his arms, leaning back against the wall. “Of all the looks you send me,” Memphis said, chin against his temple, his breath brushing Tyler’s hair, “I love that one the best.”

The doors slid shut.

“Which expression would that be?” Tyler said as he tipped his head back to look at Memphis.

“The one that says ‘you’re a moron, but you’re
my
fucking moron.’”

Tyler let out a huff of humor. “That pretty much sums them all up.”

Memphis’s hard body was distracting enough, but then he leaned in and took his mouth. A muffled, satisfied noise escaped Tyler’s throat, and he opened wide.

The first touch of a tongue came from Tyler, the gesture more of a plea than a demand. Memphis gripped the back of his neck and changed the angle of the kiss, giving him everything he’d asked for. Wet and hot and a little rough. The aggressive action cranked up the heat, fire filling every corner of Tyler’s body. When the stuntman slid his thigh between Tyler’s legs and pressed insistently against his hard-on, the whimper that rose from Tyler got lost in his boyfriend’s mouth. Tyler spent several seconds rocking his hips in search of friction.

Memphis broke their kiss. “Still my submissive bitch, huh?” he said, dimples flashing.

“Always,” Tyler said with a grin

Memphis’s face grew serious. “Love you.”

Judas Priest
…

Tyler’s heart expanded. Good thing he was leaning against the man, because the jolt of emotion almost did Tyler in. One minute his boyfriend was joking about super powers and submissive tendencies, and the next he was bringing Tyler to his figurative knees with the power of his words.

Memphis gave a small shrug as he hit the button for the lobby. “I didn’t know if I should share that before we found out about my chances of―”

Tyler covered Memphis’s mouth with his hand. He didn’t need to know anything else. He’d heard everything he’d needed to hear.

“Love you, too,” he said.

Tyler was so distracted by the warmth and the solid feel of his boyfriend’s body he almost didn’t feel the elevator lurch as they began to descend. He dropped his hand.

“You know,” Memphis said with a quirk of his lips, hooking his fingers through Tyler’s belt loops, “I think I finally figured out why I came back to life all those years ago.”

Although expecting a flippant answer, Tyler had to ask. “Why is that?”

“For a second chance with you,” he said simply.

Tyler blinked against the sudden pressure behind his lids. His pulse hammered, joy infusing every cell.

“Well”—Tyler cleared his throat—“you can spend the rest of your very long life being with me.”

“I like that plan.”

The massive smile on Tyler’s face made his cheeks hurt. “So do I.”

~~~ The End ~~~

By day, River works as a (mostly) mild mannered physician in a remote Alaskan town and has accumulated the wacky stories that come with the job. At night, her inner badass comes out to play. River likes to read and write edgy books that contain varying levels of humor and plenty of hot, steamy sex between two hunky men.

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