Noel had told Shane he’d call once he woke up on Monday so they could hammer out their plans. He took his time in the shower, lingering when he would normally power through the motions. He ate cold Chinese takeout from the fridge, along with a root beer.

He wasn’t avoiding the call. Not exactly. He wanted to see Shane again, but Saturday night’s half-drunk phone call had left him unsettled. Instinct told him that Shane was hiding something important, and Shane was proving himself to be incredibly stubborn. Noel hadn’t known him long enough to know which buttons to push and which to leave alone. One date also didn’t give him the right to press the subject. They weren’t boyfriends.

He could see them going there one day, though. Noel was tired of going out and finding a hookup so he could scratch an itch. He wanted something real, someone to make a life with. And he liked Shane enough to be patient with him. Not everyone handed out total trust easily, especially when they’d been hurt.

Winning Shane’s trust was the first step, and he couldn’t do that by avoiding their plans.

Noel sat on the edge of his bed and made the call.

“Hey.” Shane sounded bright and cheerful, so different from two days ago.

“Hey, cowboy. Feeling better?”

“Better? Oh, yeah. I’m good.”

“Would you believe me if I said that was the first time I’ve ever been drunk dialed?”

“No.”

Noel laughed. “Well, it was.”

“I don’t think that counted as drunk. I was fully aware of calling you and why.”

“Half-drunk dialing, then.”

“I can live with that.”

“Can you also live with spending a couple of hours with me tonight?”

“Definitely,” Shane said with a silken purr. “Any ideas on how we can spend it?”

“We could always hit the gym.”

The snarfing noise Shane made was somehow both sexy and childlike. “I was thinking along the lines of something differently aerobic.”

“Running?”

“Not even close. Aren’t cops supposed to be better at gathering clues and solving things?”

“Does this aerobic exercise require clothing?”

“It’s much more fun when all clothing is removed, however leaving certain articles on can certainly increase the pleasure of said activity.”

“Swimming.”

“Nope.”

Noel wished he could see Shane’s face, sure that wicked, feral smile was in place. He knew exactly what Shane had in mind, but teasing it out of him was way more fun than coming out and saying he wanted to fuck. “Well, I’m having trouble figuring this one out, cowboy.”

“Then why don’t you come over, and I’ll demonstrate.”

Oh yes, this was the forceful Shane that attracted him so strongly. “When does your brother come home?”

“They got a late shipment at the feed store, so seven at the earliest.” A pause. “I don’t mind if you meet him.”

Noel grinned at the wall. “I’m glad you don’t want to hide me away, but I was thinking about thin walls and being polite. I’ve lived with roommates who had active sex lives.”

Shane snickered. “I bet you have stories.”

“You have no idea.”

“You’ll have to tell me sometime. Like in twenty minutes or so?”

“Sounds like a plan. Text me your address.”

“Sure. See you soon.”

Noel put the address into his phone’s GPS on his walk to the car. Anticipation curled warmly in his gut and kept him company on the drive across town.

* * *

The moment Shane hung up with Noel, he grabbed a dishrag and started dusting. The trailer wasn’t dirty, exactly. Shane did most of the housekeeping by silent agreement, but Noel was seeing the place for the first time, and he wanted to make a good impression. He never brought tricks home. He’d never had a boyfriend to introduce to Jason. Noel was neither a trick, nor his boyfriend, so what the hell was he doing frantically wiping down the front of the TV?

Making up for the fact that you’re a mess, and you don’t want to tell Noel or Jason what you did to earn that fat paycheck on Saturday.

Yeah, pretty much.

He cleaned so he didn’t have to panic. He hadn’t mentioned his weekend deposit to Jason that morning, and he hoped to avoid it in the brief time period during which he’d see his brother tonight. Maybe tomorrow. He’d figure out what to say by tomorrow for sure.

No shift at the deli had given him all day to think, and he’d yet to come up with an answer. The only real thing he’d managed was grocery shopping. He’d stocked up with some of Jason’s favorite things: hot dogs, canned chili, French fries, frozen garlic bread. It felt good to do something nice for his brother, even if he still had to explain where the money came from.

He took a few minutes to make sure his bedroom was tidy and the sheets didn’t smell. He tucked the dildo into his underwear drawer, but left the lube and condoms accessible. Hopefully Noel was in the mood to switch things up tonight, because Shane’s ass was still tender. He didn’t want sex with Noel to be something he had to endure. Not ever.

He had enough other shit to endure.

Tires crunched in the little gravel lot. Shane practically ran to the door. He yanked it open before Noel had a chance to knock, and he took in his fill. Noel looked fantastic in cargo shorts and a black polo, his sun-kissed hair in slight disarray.

“I see you found the place,” Shane said.

“I’ve been out here a few times on calls,” Noel replied. Sheepish, which was adorable. “It’s an active neighborhood.”

“It’s a dump. People don’t have anything to do except work and drink, and they don’t work here.”

“So they drink.”

“And fight. I’ve heard the sirens.”

“Well, I haven’t been out this way in at least six weeks.”

The deadpan way Noel said that poked Shane in the funny bone. Noel grinned at his insane laughter, and Shane stepped aside so Noel could come inside the trailer. His chuckles died off as Noel observed the place, doing his cop thing of taking in details, eyeballing everything. The carpet was twenty years out of date, and the couch had two busted springs, but the place was clean. No bugs, no spiders, no strange smells. It had been home since Shane was thirteen.

Noel seemed puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Shane asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. It isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I’m not sure. Two single guys in one space? I guess I expected more clutter. Or at least more pizza boxes.”

Shane snorted. “You’re too used to college guys living together. Delivery pizza’s way out of our budget anyway.” He needed a distraction from the reminder that he was poor as hell. “You want something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“Water, some Pepsi, orange juice.”

“Pepsi?”

“Okay.”

Shane poured two glasses from the nearly depleted two-liter. Noel had overtaken the sofa, one arm draped across the back, his legs slightly spread. Inviting. So fucking sexy. Noel sipped at his soda while Shane occupied the cushion closest to Noel without touching. The second he touched Noel he’d be all over him. Kissing him. Dragging him into his bedroom.

And that’s a bad idea why?

Not a single reason he could figure. Noel hadn’t dragged himself over here to watch television, and Shane really, really wanted to fuck him.

He put his mostly flat soda down, then stole Noel’s away. Noel’s lips quirked, eyes narrowing a fraction. The expression was almost a dare. “One of these days I’d like to go out and do something with you,” Shane said. “But we’re on a time crunch, and I really want to know what your ass feels like around my dick.”

Noel inhaled a sharp breath. His cheeks flushed. He tackled Shane to the couch in a dizzying burst of energy, and then Noel’s mouth was attacking his. Fuck yeah, this was the kissing Shane remembered. Hard and demanding, like nothing else was more important than tasting every part of his mouth. Shane wrapped his legs around Noel’s hips. Noel rubbed his growing erection against Shane’s, creating a sublime wave of pleasure that spread to all parts of him.

Shane had never responded to another guy so quickly, and his intense attraction to Noel should have scared him, but it didn’t. He craved it—that connection to another person that went deeper than sex. The chance to have something real with another guy. To prove to himself and the world that he wasn’t a hopeless wreck.

His phone rang somewhere in the kitchen. Shane blocked out the chiming ringtone. He had more important matters in hand.

“You want to get that?” Noel asked while he licked a trail down Shane’s neck.

“Fuck no.”

Shane tugged until Noel got with it and yanked off his shirt, then helped with Shane’s. Noel went to town on that spot on Shane’s neck that made his toes curl and little noises drag out of his throat. God he loved that, and he’d had no idea until Noel found it. So good. He thrust his hands down the back of Noel’s shorts and squeezed his cheeks. He had a great ass. Firm in the right places with just enough bounce to grab. Not rock hard or chiseled down.

Noel worked a hand between them. He arched his back to keep their cocks firmly together while allowing him to pluck at Shane’s fly, and he never stopped playing with Shane’s neck. Shane was so worked up he was afraid of coming the instant Noel touched him, and that would be fucking embarrassing.

He didn’t come but he did make a needy sound that had Noel sliding down the couch to tug his pants down for real. Shane lost his grip on Noel’s ass, but that was okay because Noel’s mouth was around his cock, licking and sucking, and holy fuck that was perfect.

“Oh fuck.” Shane threaded his fingers in Noel’s soft hair, gripping without directing. Noel knew what he was doing, and what he was doing with his hands and mouth left Shane’s thighs shaking.

His phone chimed again.

“Fucking Christ,” Shane snapped. Nothing could possibly be so urgent as to interrupt the best blowjob of his life.

Noel pulled off, but kept stroking with his hand. “Maybe you should see who keeps calling. Or put it on silent?”

Putting it on silent sounded like a plan. Shane reluctantly kicked his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off, then fetched his phone from the kitchen counter. Two missed calls. One from Jason, the second from an unknown number. Shane’s stomach flipped. The phone beeped with a voicemail.

“What’s wrong?” Noel asked.

“Not sure. Give me a sec.” Shane punched in his password for the voicemail.

“Yeah, this is Phil Tanner down at East Street Feed where your brother Jason works. He was feeling pretty sick today, so we sent him home but he collapsed out in the parking lot. He’s on his way to the hospital—”

Shane didn’t listen to the rest of the message. He scrambled for his clothes, unable think over the dull roar in his head.

“Shane, what happened?”

“Jason’s at the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know.” He nearly fell over getting his leg into his pants. “The message said he collapsed. I don’t know. Fuck.”

Noel grabbed his arm to steady him while he zipped, then handed over his shirt. Shane’s hands were shaking so badly he fumbled the damned thing twice. Noel helped. He even got his shoes on his feet, and Shane felt like a fucking child but his brother was in the hospital. Nothing else mattered except getting there.

He grabbed his wallet and phone, and then he was in Noel’s car. Noel was driving, and it struck Shane as strange a few minutes later. Calm, collected Noel was taking care of him right now, when he had no reason to be so generous.

“Thank you,” Shane said.

“For what?”

“Driving. Helping. You don’t have to.”

“I want to. When you heard that message, the look on your face…you don’t have to thank me.”

Shane stared out the window as the town went by, his heart slamming in his chest, his cold hands still trembling in his lap. He hated this so fucking much. He hated not knowing, and he hated that Jason was sick. Or hurt. Or what-fucking-ever was wrong.

“He’s been feeling rundown this last week,” Shane said. “Exhausted from working.”

“Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe it’s exhaustion, and it’s nothing a few days of rest can’t cure.”

“I hope so.”

Mercy Hospital was a few miles south of town, and it catered to most of the small communities around Stratton. Shane and Jason had both been born there. Jason had his appendix removed when he was eleven. Shane had only been three, and he didn’t remember much about it. He vaguely recalled huddling in his mother’s arms, terrified of seeing his big brother, his hero, so still and quiet in a strange bed with metal arms on it. His brother was still his hero, and this time the terror was immediate and real.

Thank God for Noel, or he’d have crashed his car trying to get there.

Noel found a parking spot surprisingly close to the ER entrance, and he kept up while Shane sprinted inside.

“Jason McShane,” he said to the nurse at the admin desk. “He was just brought in. I’m his brother.”

“He’s in room one-oh-seven. Through there.”

She pointed as she hit a button, and a big door buzzed. Shane followed a new corridor, watching for the numbers next to various doors, blindly seeking.

“This way,” Noel said. He tugged Shane’s elbow, and they went left, past carts and gurneys and more doors.

Room 107 greeted him with a sneer. It was a curtained area, rather than a private room with a door. Shane tried to take a calming breath, but he couldn’t manage more than a gasp.

Jason was nearly as pale as the sheet draped over his waist. His bare chest was dotted with little circles attached to wires, and he had an oxygen thingie under his nose and around his ears. His eyes were closed, the skin beneath them dark, shadowed. He wasn’t intubulated, or whatever it was they did on TV shows when they shoved a breathing tube down your throat.

He also wasn’t awake.

“Jason?” Shane clutched his right hand, alarmed at how cool his skin was. “It’s me. Wake up, okay?”

He didn’t.

A warm presence nearby reminded him they weren’t alone. “This wasn’t quite how I wanted Noel to meet you, but I’m glad he’s here.” So goddamn glad. He’d have collapsed by now without Noel. “Now wake the fuck up and talk to me.”

Shoes squeaked in their direction, and then a woman in a white coat strode inside. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Dr. Kendra McDonald.”

“Jody McShane. I’m his brother. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Mr. McShane, your brother had a heart attack.”

Shane went cold all over. His chest seized. Breathing hurt. “But he’s only thirty-two.”

“It’s rare at his age, but not impossible. There are lot of different factors at work, including diet, lifestyle and genetics. We’re going to run some tests and I still need to get a medical history.”

“Our mom died of heart disease.”

Dr. McDonald’s eyebrows went up. “Do you know how old she was?”

He didn’t. Jason had once told him that she got pregnant right after high school, and he was thirteen when she died. Fuck. “About the same age as Jason is, I think. I was a little kid. What does that mean?”

“It could mean something, or it could mean nothing. Right now I need to send him for a chest x-ray. It will take a little while. You can wait here if you like. Someone will be by shortly to get information so we can admit him.”

“Okay.”

Shane stood still and trembled while Jason was wheeled away for tests. Once the curtain was pulled shut, Noel gathered him up in his arms and held tight. Shane melted into him, beyond grateful to have him there. To have someone holding him up so he didn’t fall down. His eyes burned but he couldn’t seem to cry. He hadn’t cried in years. All he could do was rage and fear and let Noel hold him.

“He’s young and he’s strong,” Noel whispered. “He’ll pull through this, okay?”

“He has to. He’s all I’ve got.”

Noel hugged him tighter.

A while later wheels squeaked. Shane tugged away, not wanting anyone else to see him so weak and needy. A kind woman in scrubs brought in a mobile computer of some kind and took all of the information Shane could give her about Jason. No medications he knew of. Recent fatigue. He found Jason’s insurance card in his wallet, which had been stuffed in a bag along with his clothes.

By the time she finished, Jason was being wheeled back in.

“Once we have a bed for him,” Dr. McDonald said, “we’ll take him upstairs to the cardiac unit. We’ll also be doing a procedure called thrombolysis.”

“What’s that?” Shane asked.

“We’ll administer a clot-dissolving agent in order to restore proper blood flow to his heart. It’s a standard procedure for heart attacks. Once I have the x-ray and the EKG results, we’ll know a little more about what caused it.”

“Okay.”

She left them alone again. Shane sat on the edge of the bed and took Jason’s hand again, squeezing gently. Jason’s eyelids fluttered.

“Hey, stay with me, bro,” Shane said. “Wake up, okay? It’s Jo.”

Jason’s head tilted toward the sound of his voice. His eyelids peeled apart and his lips moved. He blinked a few times, coming back so slowly that it hurt to watch.

“There you are.”

“Where?”

“You’re in the hospital. You had a heart attack, Jason.”

His eyebrows went up. “I did?”

“Yeah. Phil called and said you collapsed in the parking lot at the Feed. I about died on the spot. I have never been so fucking scared in my life.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you’re okay. And you will be okay, you hear me?”

“How bad was it?”

“That’s to be determined. They’re doing tests and shit.”

Genuine fear flashed in Jason’s eyes. “Mom died like this.”

“No.” Shane wanted to smack Jason for even thinking that. “No, you are not dying. It was one heart attack. You just have to work less, eat better and take aspirin from now on. You’re going to be fine.”

He nodded without seeming to believe it. His attention flickered over Shane’s shoulder. “Why’d you bring a cop?”

“Huh?” Shane had forgotten about his shadow. “You know Noel?”

Noel stepped around to Shane’s side. “My partner and I responded to a call at the junkyard a few weeks ago. I guess I never connected the dots.”

Probably because Shane Joseph was a stage name for a stripper who occasionally did porn under the name of Colby. He’d never told Noel his real name was Jody McShane, and that he’d taken Shane as a nickname when he was a kid so he’d get beat up less for having a girly name.

“You two are friends?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, just recently,” Shane said. “We were hanging out when Phil called.”

“Okay.” And because Jason was that awesome, he left it alone.

* * *

Two hours later, Jason was installed in a private room on the third floor, and his care was handed off to a white-haired cardiac specialist named Dr. Walter Bailey who stood in front of Jason’s bed like an executioner. Shane really wanted to hold Noel’s hand, but Noel wasn’t out and that was pretty personal, so he held Jason’s instead.

“Your heart attack was not caused by a blockage,” Dr. Bailey said in a voice too big for his slim body. “You have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”

Jason squeezed his hand painfully tight. “That’s what our mother died from.”

Shane shuddered.

“Yes, I saw that in your notes,” Dr. Bailey replied. “You very likely inherited it from her. Having a parent with that condition, your regular physician should have been testing you at least twice a year.”

Jason didn’t have an answer to that one. Despite having decent insurance through the Feed, he only went to the doctor when he was really, truly sick. Neither one of them were big on preventative medicine, because it cost time and money.

“You should have yourself checked out as well,” Dr. Bailey said to Shane.

“Okay,” Shane said. “But what about Jason. How do we fix this?”

“Normally we would start with drugs that would slow your heart rate and help blood flow properly. However, you already experienced one very serious heart attack, and your echocardiogram showed severe thickening of the left ventricular wall. You said you’ve been experiencing irregular heartbeats and dizziness for the last few weeks—”

“Weeks?” Shane glared at Jason, furious at not knowing that. “You’ve been hiding this from me for weeks?”

“I didn’t want you worrying about me,” Jason said.

“Or forcing you into seeing a fucking doctor. Jesus Christ, Jason, you had a heart attack, and it sounds like you could have another one.”

“He could,” Dr. Bailey said. “He’ll need a serious lifestyle change from now on, and that includes a restriction on physical labor. Anything that increases blood flow to the heart could lead to further arrhythmias.”

“I can’t stop working,” Jason said. “We can’t afford it.”

“Throwing fifty-pound bags of dog food around is what got you here,” Shane said. “We can find you another job.”

“What about my insurance?”

“What about your life? We’ll find a way to pay for it, Jason, we always do. We’ve been through it.”

“Getting through it put me here, didn’t it?”

“Genetics put you here, dumb-ass.”

“I can’t stop working.”

“Yes, you fucking well can.”

“Are they always like this?” Dr. Bailey asked.

“I have no idea,” Noel replied.

Oh yeah, audience.

“So how are we treating this?” Jason asked.

Dr. Bailey said, “Given your history and current physical condition, I want to implant a cardioverter-defibrillator.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a small device that monitors your heart rate and can administer electric shocks if a life-threatening arrhythmia occurs. We insert it under the skin by your ribs, like we would a pacemaker.”

“For how long?”

“The rest of your life.”

“Which will be a long, long time, so stop worrying,” Shane said. He’d worry about this for them both. All Jason had to do was live.

“I’d like to schedule you for first thing in the morning,” Dr. Bailey said. “It’s a minor procedure, as the newest subcutaneous model doesn’t require leads to the heart.”

“How long will I be here?” Jason asked.

“Another few days. We need to monitor the ICD to ensure it’s working correctly, and to see how your heart muscle is responding to the drugs we administered.”

Jason groaned.

“Look at the bright side,” Shane said. “You’ll have total control of the TV for a few days.” The levity didn’t help, so he turned back to the doctor. “So with this ICD thingie and him working less, that’ll do the trick? He’ll be okay?”

“All of these steps will drastically reduce his chances of another heart attack, and it should slow the progression of the disease. Many patients continue to live full lives. However, your case is a bit more severe, and there are restrictions in terms of activities. I’ll go over all of those with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Jason said.

After Dr. Bailey left, Shane allowed himself to get up and pace. He had a shit-ton of nervous energy to burn through, and no real space in which to do it.

“I have to call Warrick’s and tell them I can’t come in tonight.”

“I’ll do it,” Shane said. “I’ll call the Feed too and tell them you’re taking the rest of the week off.”

“Hey—”

“No, the whole week. You have to have sick time earned up.”

“It’s not enough to cover the week.”

“I don’t care.” Shane stopped at the foot of his bed, hands on hips. “You had a heart attack, Jason. A fucking heart attack, and you’re getting some little doohickey inserted into your chest to keep it from happening again. This isn’t a fucking cold that you work through until it goes away. You could have died.” He was very close to yelling. Very close to losing it completely, and he clamped down hard on his emotions. Blinked back the stinging in his eyes.

Jason scrubbed his hands down his face and through his hair. “I fucking know that, Jo.”

“Do you really? Because if you did, you wouldn’t even be thinking about work, you’d be forming a plan to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“What am I supposed to do? My insurance is through the Feed, so I can’t quit there. I can’t get unemployment unless they fire me, and that’s still not enough.”

“You could file for disability,” Noel said. “If your doctor signs a document that your physical condition no longer allows you to work, you could get it.”

“No way,” Jason said. “I’m not an invalid who needs to be paid to sit on his ass. I earn my way.”

“You’re going to earn yourself an early grave, Jason,” Shane snapped. “I need you here.”

He grunted. “You’d be better off with my life insurance payout.”

Shane’s control over his temper shattered, and a shaking rage poured over him. “Fuck you, big brother, this isn’t about the goddamn money! You’re the only family I’ve got. I can’t do this without you.”

He stormed out of the room because if he stayed he’d keep yelling. Or worse, he’d punch a wall, and they didn’t need another medical bill heaped on their heads. God only knew how much of this the insurance would pay. He stopped at the bank of elevators. Noel had driven him over. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to, so he paced. Hands shoved deep in his pockets. Head down. He didn’t regret yelling at Jason. Between the two of them, they had enough bullheaded stubbornness to put a whole herd of mules to shame. And nothing Shane had said was untrue. They’d always had each other, and Shane needed his brother.

Noel joined him after a while. “Are you doing okay?”

“No.” Shane exhaled long and hard. “No, I’m not okay. Nothing is okay.”

“Look, Jason is resting, and there’s nothing else to be done right now. Let me take you home. At least then you’ll be able to get your own car.”

“You’re right.” Shane had no idea of the time but Noel had to work tonight. It wasn’t his responsibility to babysit Shane so he didn’t have a mental breakdown. Noel had his own life to get back to, and Shane needed to concentrate on getting Jason well again.

Noel punched the down button. “You guys will get through this.”

“God, I hope so.”

I can’t do this without him.