Chapter Twelve

 

Gabe

 

Tossing from side to side for over an hour and a half, I give up on sleep for now, and climb out of bed. Reading the prescription bottles, I don’t know what secret miracle is hiding in them, but I feel great, like a revamped person seeing the light of day for the first time in years. The vitamins boost my energy levels and those antibiotics kicked something’s ass inside of me. I straighten everything up, then make my bed for us. For ‘us’? There’s never been me anywhere around that word, so ‘us’ sounds strange.

Yeah, I had a live in one time who was a rag wench and clingy, but it started out as roommates to begin with. He took it for way more, I took it for just what it was. Help with rent and an occasional roll in the hay, no strings attached. There was no emotion involved in any of it. That was my state of mind then. I’ve always been of fan of the saying ‘never get close, push them away before they can hurt me’. It’s why I’m still single. Why would I allow someone close enough to hurt me, when I can jump into prick mode and get away before getting hurt first? I was close to my parents and got hurt, lesson learned, plain and simple.

Maybe Evan’s playing a bigger part than I think in this ‘us’ thing. Helping that along, like a patron saint by guiding me through it, hell if I know. But, I can’t explain what a release it is to have finally told someone something so personal.

To allow myself to just let go and give in and trust them with something so personal to me. To trust him and feel the sadness stream from his heart so powerful it brought him to break down in tears with me. I wanted to curl him in my arms and tell him it was okay, this is my nightmare to deal with, not his, but I was too wrapped up watching him. It confuses me. Every action he took and expression he wore was genuine and from his core. It radiated through him, and I don’t get why. I need to ask him about it.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had this tension, like a tightening in the muscle that runs from the back of my skull down into my left shoulder blade, but never knew the root of it. I always figured it was from either the car wreck with my parents or when I got my ass kicked by Officer Harrison. Today, it’s gone, erased like it never existed, which feels like a huge burden lifted.

Grabbing the empty water mug and slipping on my dark blue and silver robe, I let my nose lead the way to that delicious smell that wafts through the entire house. The smell of fresh onions, bell peppers, and celery sends my stomach in a fit of growls.

I make the corner and see the pot on the stove, boiling with water, about five cans of opened tomato sauce, diced tomatoes ready to go in with it.

“Get any sleep, baby?” He wipes his face on his sleeve, his eyes are running from the onions.

I come up behind him, slipping my arms around his waist, leaning into him. “How could I, you’ve got the house smelling so tasty, just like you.” I kiss him on the neck.

“Are you trying to make me chop my fingers off?” He drops the knife like molten lava melting his skin.

“Oh daaaamn. Sorry babe, forgot you were wielding weapons.” I laugh and release him.

“I got your weapon all right.” I crack up laughing at him.

“Did you happen to leave any coffee in the house? Or did you eat the grounds and pour the water in afterward?”

“I rigged a funnel and drank it all, but I bought more for you. Want me to make you some? How’s your stomach?” he asks, making sure I can take it.

“Empty, could eat a horse right now. This really does smell good, Evan.”

He scurries over to the coffee can, opening it and fills the pot. Five minutes later, he sets a boiling mug down in front of me. “Do you want sugar or anything?” He rushes back over to grab it, along with a cup for himself.

“Nope, just black and bitter. I have a question for you though.” I sit on the barstool at the island in the middle of the kitchen where he’s chopping everything and take a sip of coffee.

“Okay and I have a question for you too.”

“Fire away.”

“Do you want me to make you breakfast? I grabbed some eggs and bacon at the store, along with different veggies to make a Texan Fiesta Omelet. Jalapeno’s get rid of these cold and flu symptoms, ya know? This soup is going to take longer than I expected, it’s a huge pot full.”

“Yeah, I could do with an omelet, sounds scrumptious.” My stomach growls again and Evan start laughing.

“Good because I’m famished too. You realize you have only sandwich stuff around here, right?”

“I’m rarely home, and just grab something throughout the day and night.”

“Well, that’s healthy.” He rolls his eyes at me.

Evan scoops up all the chopped veggies and tosses them in a bowl, placing them in the fridge.

Damn, he went bat shit crazy in the store, I’ve never seen my icebox so full before. It’s a nice change, I could get used to this.

He returns to the counter, with more onions, jalapenos, tomatoes, eggs, milk, cheese, and bell peppers, then turns for the pantry and grabs a can of sliced mushrooms. “So, what is it you wanted to ask me?” He looks up, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Last night, when I was talking to you about what happened with my parents, why were you were crying too?”

Evan doesn’t say a word right away and continues dicing the ingredients in tiny pieces. He turns and reaches in a bottom cabinet and pulls out a cast iron skillet and adds butter to it, then puts in the peppers, etc., to sauté. After he washes his bowl, he looks up to me. I’m still waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“Because I could sense your pain and it broke my heart. I know how hard it was for you to tell me about it. I can only imagine how difficult it was for you to have to live it.” He stirs the food. “I’m trying my best to explain it, but if I blurt it out, you’ll just throw up walls and block me out. I don’t want to do that.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, and stand to refill my mug of coffee, but he snatches it out of my hand and does it for me.

“I mean that’s what you do, isn’t it? Toss up brick walls when something gets uncomfortable?” He stops everything he’s doing and glances up to me, his head tilted to the side.

“You’ve only known me a short time, Evan.”

“And you point is?” he asks. “Oh come on, Gabe, quit it. I know you feel it too. We’ve got some sort of connection together, we’re drawn to each other. I knew it the first time I saw you and it wasn’t just because I wanted you so much, it was just instant chemistry. Am I lying?”

“It wasn’t just because you thought I was hott and sexy? Well damn,” I pout, pushing my bottom lip out.

“I’m going to suck that off your face if you don’t put it away. Of course, I did, but there was more, something different about you and I don’t expect it to leave. You’ve never told a soul what happened to you, so why me?”

Well hell’s bells, he just flipped the entire script back on me, and I kinda like that. Never saw it coming either, or maybe I did and didn’t know. Fuck, I knew he sent my head spinning in circles, but now my loops are intertwining together on top of it.

“Ummm…” And that’s the only thing coming out. I should be fumbling my finger up and down my lips going ‘bluuuuu’ at any moment now.

After he pulls the ingredients for the omelet off the stove, he adds in a few slices of bacon, cooking it so perfectly that it crumbles inside them.

Evan scrambles up the eggs in a bowl, adds the milk and cheese, then pours it in the pan adding a couple splashes of garlic salt and pepper, then cheese, then the heart of it. It cooks a few more minutes and he folds it in half to finish up.

No words are spoken, I’m still dumbfounded by his question to me about why I trusted him enough to tell him. It’s a damn good question. Why did I? He sets the steaming hot plate in front of me and hands me the Tabasco sauce, along with a glass of ice cold milk. My most favorite breakfast meal combo on the planet, though biscuits, sausage and gravy run a close second.

“Chow time.” He pulls up the barstool and sits next to me. “So when are you going to tell me about this guardian cop angel? You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” He knees me with his.

Oh hell.