Will & Patrick Fight Their Feelings (#4) (7 page)

Warmth cracks through Patrick like sweet lightning. He wants more of this feeling for as long as he can have it. He can call it whatever he wants: happiness, oxytocin. Screw it; he can even call it love.

Whatever the name, it’s addictive as hell.

“Ditto,” he whispers back.

Will smiles again and the goes to work. It’s the work of minutes to bring Patrick to the edge. He grips Will’s hair hard, staring down into his dilated, eager eyes. Shuddering, he touches Will’s hollowed cheek, feeling his cock move in and out of his sucking, greedy mouth. His balls ache and he closes his eyes, trying to stop himself from feeling. But it’s too late.

“Will! Honey! What happened to your face?”

Will sighs. He’s been working from home—well, the Tallgrass—today and he’d dared to dart out to Brown Gargle for all of ten minutes. Of course he’s managed to run into his mother.

“Mom, hey.” He rubs his chin self-consciously and shoots Jax a look of wide-eyed panic.

Jax snorts and hustles off to prepare Will’s Bronco Buster.

“Is that…is that some kind of burn?”

“It’s fine, Mom. It’s no big deal.”

Though last night it had seemed like the sweetest deal ever. After their shared shower, he and Patrick had ended up naked in bed, cuddling, and
talking
about sex. When it came out that Ryan hadn’t enjoyed kissing Will because he didn’t like the texture of his tongue, Patrick had declared himself a huge fan of necking in general and of Will’s tongue in particular.

They’d then proceeded to make out for hours.

Unfortunately, Patrick hadn’t shaved since getting home from work, and Will now knows hours of kissing plus rough stubble equals insane beard burn.

“Will.” His mom’s eyes narrow. “It looks like
something
to me.”

“Mom, it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.” His mind snatches on a good distraction from this conversation. “Is everything okay? Patrick said he saw you and Jason at the hospital.”

“Jason’s mother had gallbladder surgery; there were a few complications, and she had to stay the night. We were checking in on her. Funny, but I didn’t see your doctor friend.”

“My husband.”

She tilts her head and examines him closely. Her eyes zoom in on his neck. Oh hell, the hickey.

“Will Patterson, is that a…a love bite on your neck?”

Will sighs again as his mother’s eyes widen in understanding.

“Are you sleeping with Dr. McCloud?” she hisses.

“Here’s your coffee, Will.” Jax slides it across the counter, eyebrow raised and amusement glittering in his eyes.

Will takes the coffee, smiles tightly, and tugs his mother to the most secluded table in the back corner.

“Keep your voice down, Mom,” he whispers as they settle into the chairs. He leans toward her over the table and shakes his head. “What sort of question was that to ask in front of Jax? I’m supposed to be happily married! Of course I’d be sleeping with Patrick.”

She folds her arms across her chest and glares. “I don’t care about Jax’s opinion. I care about
you
!”

A familiar angry churn begins in his stomach. “Mom, back off. I stay out of your relationships,” he says with a steady, meaningful gaze. “It’s time you stayed out of mine.”

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

Her lips purse and her blue eyes narrow. “If you don’t approve of Jason, you should just say so. Kevin already has.”

“Kevin doesn’t approve of Jason?”  His uncle had seemed plenty fond of the guy the day before when talking with Will.

“He says it’s less about Jason and more about the children. But children are happy when their parents are happy. Studies show—”

“Stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said stop. You’re out of control and you need to admit that.”

“What?” She blinks at him and shakes her head. “Who…? This is unlike you, Will. What’s going on here?”

“What’s going on is that you dare to criticize me and my choices when you’re out and about with your new boyfriend, being sexually inappropriate in public—”

“Excuse me?”

“Patrick saw you at the hospital making out behind the vending machines.”

“That’s not public.”

Will gapes at her. “Really? That’s your position?”

His mother darts her eyes away. “Well, what’s your defense? Sleeping with Dr. McCloud? It’s not right and you know it.”

“This isn’t a mother/son ‘who’s screwing up more’ competition. This is me calling you out on hypocrisy and being negligent as a parent.”

Kimberly’s cheeks splotch red and her eyes go hot as a blue flame. “You watch your mouth, young man.”

“Why? Because you don’t want to hear Caitlin is furious with you, or that Olivia misses spending time with you, or that Connor is going to get attached to Jason and then you’re just going to dump him eventually, breaking your kid’s heart? Or do I need to watch my mouth because you don’t want to hear I’m having consensual sex with someone you don’t approve of? I’m a grown man. I can make my own choices.”

“Will, this
isn’t
like you.”

“It is, Mom,” he says quietly. “It’s the new me.” He realizes he really hasn’t been the same since he met Patrick in Vegas.

“If Dr. McCloud is blackmailing you, forcing you to sleep…”

“The fact that you’d even say that shows how little you know about him and, come to think of it, about me.”

She flushes. “Well, what on earth am I supposed to think, William?”

“That this is me, Mom. This is my choice. This is who I am.”

“What about your sobriety? Are you willing to just toss that away?”

“I’ve never been more committed to my sobriety.”

“And how are you managing your diabetes? Have you even eaten today?”

“This is not hypoglycemia talking. This is me. Your son. As for my diabetes, don’t worry about it. It’s handled.”

“I’m your mother. It’s my prerogative to worry about you when you’re not acting like yourself and when so much is at stake.”

Will grits his teeth. “You
should
trust me.”

“Why on earth should I do that? After everything you did when you were younger? The risks you took? Between the drinking and sleeping with that boy—”

“It was meaningless blow jobs between two closeted teens. That’s hardly—”

“Meaningless! That’s what makes it risky, for heaven’s sake!”

“Oh? Because every time you sleep with someone new you’re in love?”

“Yes!” She puffs up with self-righteous indignation.

He sits up straight, like he’s grown an extra spine, strengthening his resolve. He isn’t like his mother. He isn’t going to let some sick idea of love justify his choices—bad or good. “Well, that’s not a rule I’m going to live by anymore.”

“This is exactly what I mean,” she whispers fiercely. “How can I trust your judgment when you say dangerous things like this? These are the words of a dry drunk. You’re acting out and you know it.”

You’ll never be more than a dry drunk.
Ryan used to say that too.

“You trusted Ryan’s judgment and he was an alcoholic, too.”

“He was recovered.”

“No one’s ever recovered, Mom.”

“He never had any slip ups. Not even one. Not like you. And he wasn’t diabetic.” She leans across the table again, jamming her index finger against the wood. “
He
never ended up in the hospital in the throes of diabetic ketoacidosis because he passed out before taking his long acting insulin after going on a bender. I never almost lost
him
!”

Will keeps his voice steely and calm. “Mom, that was a long time ago. Eight years to be exact.”

“Only because Ryan kept you safe.” She blows a puff of air and jabs her finger at the table again. “Just one day away from him in Las Vegas and look at the outcome.” She’s shaking now. “Don’t you understand? You almost died.”

“How could I forget? I was the one dying.”

“I can’t lose you, Will. You’re my son.”

He blows out a long, slow breath. “Mom, calm down. It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m sitting right here. And, look, I’m still not dead.”

“William Patterson, don’t sass me.” Tears shimmer in her eyes. It’s hard not to reach out to comfort her.

“I’m pointing out the truth. You claim Ryan protected me. But he didn’t. Think about it, Mom. All of those slips? Did you never wonder why?”

“Because you’re an addict, baby, and that’s how—“

“No! Well, yes. But Ryan could be cruel. There were times he might as well have taken me by the hand and led me to the bar.”

“No. You’re rewriting history. You always said—”

“I said what I wanted you to believe. But I’m telling you now: he hurt me. And you hurt me too, by always taking his side.”

His mother gapes. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“That’s right! You don’t know. You don’t know what our relationship was really like.”

“I know what you told me and—”

“No, just stop. If you want to know what really happened with me and Ryan maybe ask and listen instead of telling me how it was. Maybe you’d learn something about me for a change.”

“I don’t know how to talk to you right now. He’s poisoning your mind against me.”

“Who?”

“That
doctor
.”

Will scoffs, bitterness on his tongue. “No, Patrick’s helping me feel good about myself. He’s showing me that I’m fine just the way I am. He’s the first person to ever do that. When, honestly? It should have been you.” He stands, grabbing his untouched coffee. “Oh, and stop pretending that ‘being in love’ makes your behavior okay. Own your actions, Mom. Face the consequences. And figure out what to do about how you’ve hurt Caitlin before you lose her entirely. And remember Olivia and Connor need you a whole lot more than Jason.”

Hand shaking, sweat collecting under his collar, he doesn’t give her a chance to respond, sweeping out of Brown Gargle on a wave of self-righteous anger.
 

“He said what?” Will laughs.

Patrick kisses the top of Will’s head. They’re lying on the cramped sofa eating Chinese takeout in their underwear talking about Patrick’s stint pinch-hitting in the ER earlier in the day. Will’s torso is wedged between Patrick’s thighs, his feet dangling off the opposite arm of the couch. Will’s takeout box is balanced on his stomach, and Patrick’s resting his on Will’s shoulder.

They haven’t had sex yet, both wanting to eat and watch a little television first. Though Patrick’s not sure if they’ll make it to the television portion of the evening. He’s been half hard through dinner, and he can see Will’s thickened cock outlined in his boxers.

“He said it was an accident.” Patrick chuckles.

Will lifts another mouthful of kung pao beef to his mouth. The beard burn on his chin is healing up, but Patrick makes a mental note to apply more cream to it before bed. Will asks, “How do you ‘
accidentally
’ get a canning jar stuck up your ass?”

Patrick grins, shaking his head as he takes a pull from his beer. “He tried to convince me he fell on it. I told him I was the last man on earth who’d begrudge someone shoving something big in their ass, but be sure to stay away from glass and anything that creates a vacuum seal from now on.”

“You didn’t!” Will sits up and turns around to see Patrick’s face.

Patrick smirks. “Of course I did.”

“Go on. Tell me who it was.”

“I can’t. Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“You’ve been telling me embarrassing stories about your patients for weeks now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t share any names.”

Now that Will’s moved out from between his legs, Patrick sits up too, putting his empty food box on the coffee table.

Will scoffs. “You
do
realize I know almost everyone in this town, right? I could guess who most of them were.”

It’s Patrick’s turn to snort. “Whatever. I revealed no names so technically there’s no breach.”

Will tilts his head, his eyes narrowing skeptically. “There was Shane Hammond. You told me about him.”

“Oh come on. You wormed it out of me. And you were right. Everyone was going to know the next day because his idiocy made the papers. But this patient’s anal adventure won’t be local news.”

“True. S’okay. You don’t have to tell me. Just know that I’ll never be able to look sweet old Mr. Richards in the eye again.”

Patrick groans. “Whatever. You didn’t hear it from me. And there’s not a doctor in the world who doesn’t dish on their patients when they go home to their husband or wife. It’s a healthy way to release stress.”