“Can I make breakfast, at least? Or are you tying me to the bed?”

Josh poked his head in the doorway of Tyler’s room and grinned at him. “If only you’d offered me that option years ago.”

Tyler was trying to sit up, but man, he’d never known how weak his core muscles were. Considering the strength and endurance it took to hold himself properly in a race car seat, that was saying something.

“You lie there,” Josh told him firmly, waving a hand. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“You’re being an asshole,” Tyler muttered back, childishly.

“Yep. In fact, I am the biggest asshole.”

“I heard that from Grindr. Oh, wait. You said am, not have.”

Josh flipped him off. “I’ll bring you breakfast in a minute. Are you actually gonna stay in bed today instead of flirting your way around town?”

“We’ll see.” Tyler smirked and waited until Josh was out of earshot before he crunched his way upright and slowly climbed out of bed.

He got dressed as quietly as he could, but even so, Josh yelled, “I can hear you moving around in there.”

“Dammit.” Tyler laughed to himself at Josh’s super-hearing. “I’m fine,” he called back. Once he had sweatpants and a loose t-shirt on, he shuffled his way to the kitchen to join Josh and put the coffee on.

Josh scowled at him as he flipped the bacon. “You’re worse about resting than I am.” That was saying something—Tyler rarely saw Josh take a day off, if ever. He never seemed to get sick, or if he did, he sneakily chugged Dayquil and kept on ticking.

“Yeah. But that’s it, isn’t it?” Tyler gingerly lowered himself onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar and folded his arms on top of it. It didn’t really matter how he sat or whether or not he took his painkillers—everything ached. The injuries had sunk into his very bones and spread around his whole body.

He’d been injured pretty badly before: broken limbs here and there, plenty of strains and sprains, and the occasional whiplash. This was the worst accident so far, though. And he wasn’t eighteen anymore. He might only be reluctantly admitting and admitted to his late twenties now, but injury recovery slowed year after year. If he managed to keep his career that long, he hoped the league kept improving its safety by the time he was pushing forty.

Josh waggled his spatula in front of Tyler’s face to get his attention. “What’s it?”

“Oh.” The meds made Tyler feel spaced-out, and the concentration it took to maintain conversation was hard to overestimate. He kept forgetting how forgetful he was. “I mean, everyone around here is working. Even the honeymooners are going out trail riding.”

“There’s the coffee. Grab the sugar.” Josh might have sounded unsympathetic if Tyler didn’t know him so well.

Tyler swung himself down from the stool and reached up to the cupboard above the coffee maker. Then he winced and stopped when his rib twanged, almost doubling over for breath.

“See?” Josh came up behind him. For once, the hand on his shoulder was gentle, even if his tone wasn’t. “You can’t do shit. Don’t get yourself even more screwed up. Take the time to heal right.” He grabbed the sugar jar from the cupboard, and Tyler had never been more jealous of anyone being able to reach as high as their face.

Thank God he had low-maintenance hair. He laughed to himself. As he did so, pressing a hand to his ribs came instinctively, before he’d even thought about it. Another little habit to cope with the pain, making it bearable to laugh. “Fine,” he muttered. “Asshole.”

“Dick. We’re the perfect pair.”

He laughed again and winced harder this time. “Ow.”

“Here’s breakfast.” Josh slid a plate across the counter and came to join him. Tyler hated noticing Josh moving carefully around him, because it was a reminder of how breakable he must look right now.

“Thanks, man. For…” Tyler waved around.

“Duh,” Josh told him and rolled his eyes. “Not like you were going home in this state.”

Staying with Josh hadn’t even been a question, no matter how stubborn he was. Tyler knew damn well couldn’t have gotten up the stairs to his little apartment downtown, not that he lived there for more than a couple days at a time during the racing season.

It reminded him of how Roman, another good friend, had wound up falling in love—by hosting Oscar, an injured dancer who’d needed a place to stay that was on the ground floor.

He snorted at the idea of falling for Josh.

“What?”

“It’s like Roman and Oscar, but I don’t even get the benefits.”

Josh eyed him as they both wolfed down breakfast with the appetites of racehorses. “You’re doing fine getting your own benefits. I swear to God, you’d have to be in a coma to avoid finding the hottest nurse around and doing him.”

The mention of himself in a compromising position with a healthcare professional made Tyler flinch. He covered it up by shifting position and wincing, then laughed. I’m sure Alec was just being overly careful, but still… if he doesn’t want to give it away, I gotta be more careful. “Yeah? Even so, it worked for Sleeping Beauty, right?”

“The Disney version or the original?”

“There’s an original?”

“Dude.” Josh wrinkled his nose as he cleaned his plate. “Yeah. It’s a lot grosser. And you’re not that beautiful when you sleep.”

Tyler laughed richly, startled into it so quickly that he didn’t have time to grab his chest first. His ribs complained. “Ow. God. You’re gonna be out of the house for a good long time today, right?”

Josh grinned. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be out of your hair soon, Briar Rose.”

“Don’t make me test the other arm,” Tyler warned, pushing his plate back.

“See? There’s the thorns.” Josh dodged Tyler’s half-hearted swing and winked as he got up to gather their plates and clean up. It made Tyler feel shitty that he couldn’t even help with that yet. “Fine, fine. I’m gone. Don’t miss me too much. Don’t forget, we’re going out with the guys tonight, too.”

“I’ll send my love letters by paper airplane.” Tyler rolled his eyes at Josh and pushed himself away from the counter to limp over to the sofa. He was gonna be stuck sitting around a lot over the next couple weeks, but at least he had a lot to do to distract him today.

After lunch, he had to call a couple people and update them on the recovery, and go downtown for a long-overdue bank appointment.

But first, he had an interview at the top of the hour. A long-time car blogger with a wry sense of humor, Bobby was always good for a laugh. Tyler was gonna have to keep a pillow on his chest all day.

Just as he thought that, Tyler’s phone timer went off, reminding him to breathe. The risk of pneumonia compelled him to do his hourly deep breathing, even if he cursed at the stupid fucking thing for chiming so damn often throughout these boring days.

As soon as he was done and back to comfortably shallow breaths, Tyler dialed Bobby’s number and settled himself on the couch.

“Hey, man.” Bobby sounded perky as ever. He’d always come across as a kind of practical joker, much like Tyler in his own group of friends. “Thanks for calling in. I’m just getting the recording equipment set up. How’s it going?”

“Pretty shitty right now,” Tyler told him with a chuckle. “But getting there.”

“Back on the farm, huh?”

Tyler didn’t even ask how he’d heard. He was getting used to word spreading before he knew about it. “Yeah. My buddy’s not even putting the sugar on the top shelf… yet.”

“Good,” Bobby laughed. “Getting to see your other friends? Say, uh, that… Deen, isn’t it? The bi rock star? He’s one of your buddies, isn’t he?”

The inclusion of Deen’s sexuality made Tyler take pause. Bobby had never seemed like the kind of guy who’d dig around for a dirty scoop, but the fucked-up thing about his situation was how much it made him question the motives of everyone around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Why?”

“Well, uh… he’s engaged to that guy you know, isn’t he? And you’re going to stay with a single guy on a farm…”

“If you’re asking something, spit it out.” Tyler’s voice was flatter than he’d meant it to be.

“No,” Bobby said firmly. “I don’t give a shit. It’s not what my readers care about, anyway. But you should know, tongues are wagging. I don’t talk a lot to that sphere of the car world, but I’ve… heard stuff.”

“The usual rumor mill, then,” Tyler said dryly. “Like spinning out and nearly dying ain’t enough of a scoop for them.”

“They won’t be happy ’til they know way more than it’s their business knowing,” Bobby said and sighed. “Just about ready, sorry. Been having trouble with the system lately. I swear to God this ain’t recorded, either.”

“Yeah. I trust you,” Tyler said simply. It had occurred to him, and he’d felt briefly bad thinking it. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Least I can do. I can’t say a lot about them, you know… tell them to fuck off and mind their own business in public. They get so much traffic, so many hits…”

“Yeah. I get it. Nobody wants to stick their neck out,” Tyler said, reaching up to rub his chin before he winced. That was reaching little higher than was comfortable.

“That’s for damn sure.” Bobby cleared his throat. “Right. Okay, this thing seems to be working now. Do you wanna get started?”

Tyler tried to drag his mind off the conversation, and stop himself from wondering who the hell was digging around his life. “I’m ready when you are.”

If something came out right when he was injured and useless to his current team… well… it was gonna be a hell of a ride. Just when his life seemed to be slowing to an unbearable crawl, it had gone from zero to sixty in a totally different area.

Typical.