Wood: A True Lover's Story

Wood appeared to be resting easier, and Trent was beyond pleased with himself. Damn, it felt good for someone to have to rely on him for a change. Ever since Bishop had found Edison, his brother no longer needed his help, not when the love of his life was more than willing to assist. Trent ran his hand along Wood’s coarse beard, cupping his cheek as he gazed down at him. And how long before you leave too? He wanted Wood up and feeling better and behaving like his old self again, but he couldn’t help but feel he wouldn’t be necessary anymore. Men like Wood got beat up by life all the time, but they never stayed down for long. He’d get what he needed from Trent… then he’d be tossed to the side when something better came along. Again.

Trent sighed, and that’s when he noticed Wood had opened his eyes and was staring drowsily at him. He gave him an encouraging smile he didn’t feel because that’s what Trent did. He faked it. He told everyone he was fine, he was okay, he just wanted to be left alone, because that’s what was easiest. Easier than getting attached and waking up to find them gone one day, vanished with no explanation as to what he’d done wrong. He tried to break the eye contact, but he couldn’t; he refused to turn away. As Otis sang to his heart about dreams to remember, Trent thought of the desires he’d had in prison of having something wonderful of his own one day. Visions of quiet days where he never got angry.

Trent didn’t move until Wood’s lids couldn’t stay open any longer and his breathing had evened out. After he closed the bedroom door, he braced his hand against the wall and stretched, trying to work out the painful knots. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket with a notification, and he was happy to see it was a text from Summer saying she was pulling into his driveway.

Trent opened the door, and his best friend rushed in with both arms loaded with Whole Foods grocery bags. She dropped them all on the dining table with a heavy thud, then shook out her arms.

Trent gaped at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I asked you to bring me a couple cans of soup, Summer. What is all this?” He dug inside one of the bags, his eyes widening. “I didn’t ask for rib eyes. Shit, I can’t pay for all this.”

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he dug inside each bag. “Did I mention a word about paying? It sounded like you might be stuck indoors for a while, so I wanted to be sure you had what you needed. Can’t I do something nice for my friend? Is that okay?”

Trent let out a tired breath, but his smile was genuine. “Yeah, babe. Thanks, a lot. Some of this stuff in here I’m gonna have to ask Edison how to cook.”

“Maybe you and Wood can make something together.” She hummed, hugging him tighter.

Trent turned in her arms and gripped the bulky fabric of her winter parka, hugging her to him. “What am I gonna do with you, woman?” he whispered.

“Just love me.” She smiled.

“I already do.” Trent released her and leaned his ass against the table, feeling a wave of fatigue hit him. “You want some coffee?”

She jerked her head back in obvious surprise. “You hate coffee.”

“I know, but Wood drinks it, so I can make a pot if you want.” Trent shrugged, unable to stop his eyes from drifting down the hall to Wood’s bedroom door.

Summer’s cold fingertips gripped his chin and turned his head to face her. “How are you doing, little brother? Honestly.”

Trent shook his head sadly. “I’ve been better. But I owe you for covering for me. Really. I’ll be back to work soon, I promise.”

“Hey, I don’t give a damn about that ritzy hotel. I’m talking about you… and Wood.” Summer glanced behind her. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Trent huffed. “He is now.”

Summer nodded, staring at him curiously. A few seconds passed before she stated, “There’s enough soup in there for a week, okay. And some other snacks that I know you like.”

“I see. Thanks, Summer.”

“All right, I wish I could stay and talk with you a while, I do. But I have to get to the site now,” she said, already walking toward the front door.

Trent glanced at his watch. She had a twenty-minute drive to get downtown, longer if she hit the morning rush-hour traffic. “Drive careful. Call me at lunch.”

“You know I will,” she said and kissed him on his cheek. She jogged down the walkway to her black Pathfinder, and he shivered in the early cold as he watched her safely back out and pull away.