Everything Changes (24 page)

Over the next week, he’d run into her frequently coming and going, and before he knew it, he’d asked her out for dinner. They’d had a wonderful time, finding out they had a ton of things in common, including a love for a certain TV show about the zombie apocalypse. That led into marathon sessions watching Carey’s DVD collection of the seasons, both at her place and at his. Bill didn’t have a policy about fraternization amongst his employees, but it was understood that while they were living on the property, there would be no overnights. And strangely, Carey hadn’t felt tempted in the least.

He thought about it as he waited for Jodi to come down to his place for pizza and zombies. She was everything he’d always thought he wanted in a woman: funny, intelligent, quirky, and with a fresh girl-next-door prettiness. There was absolutely no reason for him not to be attracted to her, but he just… wasn’t. He knew she was attracted to
him
; they always hugged at the end of their evenings, and when he pulled her close, she clutched him a little more tightly each time, her breath hitching. He thought about kissing her but never did.

Jase’s phone calls had grown more infrequent over the past few weeks, dying away to almost nothing. Carey knew from Layla they were busy hammering out contracts with their lawyer and the label that wanted to sign them. The whole band had been busy with meetings, rehearsals, songwriting sessions, and more meetings. Carey hadn’t asked about Jayden, and Layla didn’t volunteer.

He was thrilled for Jase and his chance at success, but Carey found himself thinking more and more about how he missed his friend. At first he’d missed the sex too, but now that part didn’t even really register. He missed the connection they had, the conversations, the laughter. It was what he’d been afraid of when they’d started a sexual relationship, losing what they’d built up over the years.

You didn’t “lose” it, asshole. You
chose
to walk away from it. It was all yours for the taking, all yours.
Jase had offered all he was to Carey on a silver platter, and Carey had walked away. Now he was questioning the wisdom of that decision, the rest of his life without Jase stretching out endlessly before him.

A soft knock on the door sounded, and Carey jumped. His life didn’t
have
to be empty, did it? Here was an absolutely lovely woman, a woman Carey knew could be perfect for him, and she certainly didn’t seem averse to taking their relationship to the next level. He would kiss her tonight, Carey decided. There just
had
to be the spark of something there; even six months ago, he would have been all over her. The fact that she didn’t make a big deal of his amputation was huge
,
and Carey thought wryly that he could fall in love with her over that alone.

You already had that with Jase,
his stupid brain reminded him.
Jase never babied you, never treated you as anything more than capable. And your stump never bothered him in bed.
A flash of heat went through Carey as he remembered how Jase loved to kiss him there before trailing his lips and tongue up Carey’s thigh to his—

Carey ruthlessly shut the voice off as he opened the door to Jodi with a smile, discreetly adjusting himself before taking the pizza boxes she held out and kissing her cheek as she walked by. She smiled with pleasure, a slight flush rising to her face that made her brown eyes shine. She looked very pretty, and Carey was captivated.

For the next hour, they ate pizza and watched their show, laughing and debating and analyzing, and at some point, Jodi ended up lying back against his chest while he had his arm around her. It felt friendly and cozy and warm, just not… exciting. He could feel her heart racing beneath his palm, and he sighed inwardly. He could do this.

After the episode ended and the credits rolled, he lifted her chin gently and kissed her. Her lips were warm and soft, and he touched his tongue to her bottom lip, encouraging her to open for him. She did, and his tongue slipped inside. She turned her body so she could wrap her arms around his neck, and her full breasts pressed to his chest and he felt… nothing. Her kiss was very sweet, and Carey couldn’t wait for it to end. After a decent interval, when it didn’t seem like he was tearing his lips away from hers, he ended the kiss and gently eased her back. She gazed at him, her lips parted and moist, her breathing fast. Her eyes sharpened suddenly.

“Not happening for you, Carey?” she asked, her voice not accusatory, just matter-of-fact.

He flinched inside, but he couldn’t be anything less than honest. “No,” he said with true regret. She looked at him expectantly, and he knew she deserved more of an explanation than that.

“There’s—someone else.” She caught her breath, and he rushed to clarify. “No, not someone I’m seeing right now! Someone I thought it was over with, but I don’t think it is.”

Her eyes darkened with hurt and she started to stand up, shaking his hand off of her arm angrily. “Well, she’s a lucky girl.”

“It’s not a girl,” Carey blurted. “It’s a guy, my best friend.” He cringed, figuring she was about to either kick his ass or get up and storm out. Or both. But once again she surprised him. She had frozen halfway to a standing position, but now she sat back down on the couch with an “oof” and stared at him in shock.

“Wow. Way to just… put that out there,” she said in a bemused tone.

“I’m sorry,” Carey said. “My brain-to-mouth filter is usually better than that.” She continued to gape at him until her face gradually softened. She leaned back against the couch, her arms crossed over her chest.

“So,” she said. “You’ve got the hots for your buddy, huh?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Carey said a little more fervently than he’d intended. She snorted as he felt his face flush.

“Now
this
I gotta hear. Let’s grab some beers, and I want to hear all about it.”

Carey thought about putting her off somehow, but then he thought,
what the hell
. Maybe it would help to hear someone else’s take on the situation. He got up and grabbed a couple of beers, popping the tops off of each and handing her one. He took a few large swallows, then licked his lips, noticing Jodi watching his mouth with a faintly regretful expression on her face. He felt shame go through him, and he touched her arm gently.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on.”

She smiled sadly. “You didn’t. You’ve been a perfect gentleman from day one. It’s my fault if I developed some foolish hopes.”

“I didn’t do anything to discourage them,” Carey said. “And I did it on purpose.”

“To prove to yourself that you aren’t gay?” She watched him carefully as she sipped her beer.

“I’m not gay,” he argued. “I’m just—”

“A person in love with your best friend?” she said gently.

Carey closed his eyes. “Yes. I think I am.”

“Who happens to be a man?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Tell me about him,” she encouraged, so Carey did.

He told her about meeting Jase, their time in Afghanistan, his injury and the aftermath, the years that followed. And he told her about his week in San Diego, when his and Jase’s relationship had taken that sharp turn. He didn’t hold anything back. What was the point? And he was finding that it was cathartic to talk about it.

When he’d finished, Jodi got up and went to the kitchen, getting them fresh beers. They both drank, and then Jodi said, “So why aren’t you with him right now?”

“Because—” And he couldn’t think of a single reason.

“Does it bother you that you have these feelings for another man?” she asked.

“A few weeks ago I would have said no, that I was more open-minded than that,” Carey admitted. “But now I’m starting to see that is a lot of it.”

“Explain,” she ordered, softening that with a smile.

“Because.” Carey floundered. “Because I met you, and you’re everything I’ve always wanted in a—”

“In a woman?” she said perceptively. He nodded miserably.

“But you already had
all
of that with Jase.” Her voice was gentle. “Everything you’ve ever wanted, you already had. But you had it with a man.”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“You and I could have that too,” she said suddenly. His gaze snapped to her. Was there going to be a scene after all? “We could have that,” she continued, “after four years of friendship, some life-altering experiences, emotions that have grown from loyalty and trust and many trials by fire.”

He stared at her, thunderstruck.

“Carey, I think there’s potential here”—she waved her hand back and forth between the two of them—“the potential for a very deep friendship I’m positive one day could turn to more. But why wait years for that when you already have it on a much deeper level than we could ever achieve? Because you and I will never be you and Jase. You seem to have something with him that is deep and real and lasting. We could achieve a weak imitation of that someday, sure. And we might even be very happy.”

Carey swallowed, a burn starting in the back of his eyes.

“You would deny yourself a chance for happiness with the love of your life because somehow a weak imitation with me would be okay since I’m a woman?”

The truth slammed into Carey like a hammer blow. It was true, and he couldn’t deny it anymore, that no matter how many times he and Jase had talked about labeling and putting people in boxes because of what they had between their legs, it had not sunk in, and Carey had pushed away the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life because they happened to be of the same gender.

He hung his head, overwhelmed suddenly with grief and guilt. How he had hurt Jase. His best friend. And, he now knew, the love of his life. It was true, wasn’t it? Their friendship
had
caught fire.

He pulled Jodi to him on a half sob, half laugh, burying his face in her neck and feeling her put her arms around him and hold him tight.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back. “Now tell me you’ve got some hot friend in your life who’s desperately looking for a woman like me.”

Carey hugged her tight. “No, but it’s now my mission in life to find one.”

They laughed as they clung together, and Carey felt that tightness around his chest ease at last. There was only one more obstacle to overcome, and then he was going to make things right.

T
HE
NEXT
morning Carey sat in the conference room with his one and only counseling session of the day. The Army major in the wheelchair before him had been severely burned in a tank explosion and was missing both his legs and one of his arms. His face was extremely disfigured, his body shrunken. An oxygen cannula was taped under where his nose used to be, now just slits for nostrils. He couldn’t speak much since his lungs and vocal cords had been so damaged by inhaling superheated air and gas from the explosion. His wife was devoted to him, checking on his comfort frequently, her eyes warm with affection and love. He gazed up at her with adoration, and it was obvious they shared a deep connection even catastrophic injuries couldn’t break.

Carey had known them now for a couple of years. They came to every marriage retreat, and he knew Kyle’s body was weakening under the strain it was under. The sad truth was it was likely he would pass away before too much longer. The couple had come to the retreat to spend some quality time together amongst people who understood their struggles, and they weren’t really with Carey for counseling that day. They were friends, and Carey knew this might be the last time he saw them together.

As he and Desiree chatted, they both noticed Kyle had drifted off to sleep in his chair. Desiree got up and adjusted his neck pillow, gently touching his cheek as she resumed her seat.

Suddenly she started shaking with anger and grief. “My uncle asked me the other day if I would be ‘relieved’ when Kyle passed. I almost decked him.”

Carey took one of her hands between his own, patting it. “I don’t know him, of course, but Des, maybe he was saying in a very awkward, asshole-ish way that he knew that Kyle’s suffering would be over,” he said gently. “Of course it wasn’t something that he needed to say at all, but it could be his intentions were well meant.”

“I’ve heard variations of that over the years,” she said bitterly. “People implying or outright coming out and asking why I didn’t put him in a rehab center so that I could ‘go on with my life.’ And I won’t judge people who have made that decision for themselves. It hasn’t been easy caring for him.” She pulled her hand from Carey’s and leaned over her husband, fussing with the oxygen tube, checking gauges.

“Des, he’s fine,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, slumping back in her chair, exhaustion on her face. “He doesn’t sleep more than maybe forty minutes at a time. I’m always worried that when I look at him next, he’ll have stopped breathing.”

“Do you have any respite care?”

“Of course, yes. I couldn’t function without it. A home health aide comes and takes care of him at night so I can sleep. Our two children need me too. But every second that I can, I want to be with him and do things for him and with him.”

Desiree closed her eyes, a couple of tears tracking down her face.

“When he left for Afghanistan, I was worried that he wouldn’t come home. The day he left, I prayed to God to just let me see him again, even if it was only for one more day. And he did come home, Carey. He came home
alive.
I got my one more day. No matter what condition his body is in, he’s still Kyle. He’s still my husband and the man I married. The way he looks at me, the way he talks to me. We can still laugh. His mind is there, and he’s still the man I love.”

She paused, and Carey noticed at the same time she did Kyle was awake and listening to every word. Desiree got up and knelt next to his wheelchair, looking up at him.

She continued softly, “And every morning when I kiss him hello, I whisper to him, ‘Just give me one more day. And if that’s all you have to give me, is just today, I’ll take it.’”

Carey felt a huge lump take up residence in his throat as Desiree laid her cheek against her husband’s chest. Kyle’s voice was raspy and painful sounding, but the words were clearly understood as he said, “I love you, Desi.”