Wood: A True Lover's Story

Once he got Wood undressed down to his boxer briefs, Wood began to shiver so hard he looked as if he was having a seizure, and Trent felt some hope. If Wood was in an advance stage of hypothermia, he wouldn’t be trembling, and his breathing would be a lot slower. Trent grabbed a new blanket out of the closet and draped it over him. He remembered Bishop kept a space heater underneath the bed, and he dragged it out and plugged it up on the other side of the room and turned it on full blast. He put a pillow under Wood’s head, and his eyes opened slowly, red and watery, breaking Trent’s heart.

“Fight it, Wood. Come on, man.” Trent put his palm against Wood’s scruffy cheek and shook him slightly when he began to doze again. “No. Stay awake. Wood! Wood!”

“Leave me alone,” Wood said, his speech so garbled that if Trent wasn’t in his face, he wouldn’t’ve been able to understand him.

Damnit. “No. I won’t leave you alone. Fuck you. I’m not as immature and weak as you think. I’ll stay right here in your face until you get sick of me and get the fuck up,” Trent threatened.

Wood looked as if he tried to scoff at him, but he ended up dry heaving so hard his face went from ghostly white to bright red before he curled in on himself. Trent wrapped his arms around Wood’s broad back and positioned him on his left side in case he got sick again. He held him tight to let him know he wasn’t going through this alone, no matter how many times he pushed him away. Wood coughed and grunted until his body went limp. Every few minutes Trent would do something to stir Wood to keep him from dozing too deeply. He lay there for what felt like forever until the room was bright from the new day and the feeling in his arms had gone dead. Trent shifted his position and had to clamp his mouth closed when a sharp stabbing shot down his back. He was sweating like crazy, but the heat was doing Wood good, and his color was slowly coming back. Trent heard his phone ring for the millionth time and decided he needed to get up so he could stretch and get Wood to drink some water.

“Hey. No going to sleep,” Trent said against Wood’s earlobe.

Wood moaned, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“I’m not gonna get out your ear until you look at me.” Trent pulled back and stared down at Wood’s face, wondering why the hell he’d been so stupid. The man was fucking handsome. Even lying there prone on the floor and smelling like a horse field, he was still stunning. Trent ran his hand through Wood’s long hair on top of his head, surprised how soft the light gray strands felt sifting through his fingers. The sides were darker, mostly black and shaved close, and Trent realized it was a look he found very attractive. After his sixth or seventh run-through, he glanced down and saw Wood watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. Trent slid his hand away and stared, unsure of what to say.

He got up and did a few bends to try to loosen the tightness he felt all over but gave up at the useless effort. Hauling Wood through the trailer like that must’ve caused him to pull a muscle or something because he could barely stand up straight. Wood was gazing in the same place Trent had just been, his eyes focused on nothing as if he was lost in his head. God, if he only knew what happened. The thought to call Bishop had popped into his mind so many times he was getting frustrated. He understood why Wood hadn’t called him, and Trent was going to do his best to prevent Wood from any more disappointment.

“I’ll be right back. I’ma get you some water, okay. You have to try to hydrate now,” Trent murmured and left out the bedroom.

In the kitchen he retrieved his cell phone off the table and saw it was a little after eleven, and he had nine missed calls, four from his boss and five from Bishop. “Shit.” He immediately hit Redial, and Summer picked up on the first ring.

“You asshole. I was just about to come over there. What’s going on? Why aren’t you at work?” Summer said the moment the line connected.

Trent hobbled over to the cabinet and got a plastic cup and poured it half-full with a bottle of water. “I’m sorry. Look, um. I need you to cover for me with the boss today, all right.”

“Trent, I am the damn boss.”

Trent chuckled weakly. “I know. I need my best friend Summer to speak to my boss and tell her I had an emergency and can’t make it today… and possibly tomorrow.”