“Nick.”
“I’m serious, Kels. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Baby, I got two Percocet in me, I’m untouchable right now!” Kelly drawled, giving Nick’s arm a tug.
Nick put a hand over his eyes. “Please don’t remind me that you lack clear decision-making skills right now.”
“What?”
“Percocet. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Is this about you and Aidan?”
“No. Sort of. No,” Nick stammered. He ran his hand over his face. “I just, this feels dangerous to me, Doc.”
“I know what this is,” Kelly grumbled.
Nick laughed bitterly. “I doubt that, because even I don’t know what this is. So let’s just leave it at this and go take a walk.” Nick moved away, leaving Kelly leaning against the railing trying to catch his breath.
“This is your fear of commitment cropping up, huh? Isn’t that usually like a fifth date thing for you?”
Nick stopped short and turned to face him.
“I call bullshit,” Kelly said. He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.
“Are you really psychoanalyzing me right now?”
“I know the gears in your head by name, bud. You’re not going to pull any of this shit with me.”
Nick worked his jaw and looked away.
“What are you really afraid of?” Kelly asked.
Nick glared at him, his eyes blazing briefly before he calmed again. “You know exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“The same thing that made you keep your mouth shut about Ty all those years?”
Nick’s jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth.
“It’ll never happen,” Kelly said calmly. “If we try this and it doesn’t work, that’s it. There’s no drama between us. It won’t hurt us. It won’t hurt our friendship.”
Nick looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “Kels, I’m begging you to stop.”
“Nick,” Kelly tried as he moved closer. “It’s me. I know why you’re panicking right now. I know—”
“Don’t,” Nick growled.
Kelly took a deep breath and went for it anyway. “You’re afraid of this moving past the ‘just sex’ point, right? You’re afraid it might be something special, because that’s sure as hell what it felt like last night. You’re scared.”
Nick put both hands on his hips and lowered his head, nodding. “Okay,” he said, then turned and stalked toward the door, disappearing inside.
Kelly sighed heavily, left alone on his deck as the breeze plucked at the hem of his shirt and ruffled his hair. “Well, that went well.”
Nick sat in a swing on the front deck, his feet propped on the railing, an unlit cigarette in his hand. He’d wanted to simply bolt, to get out and clear his head for a few hours, but even angry he wasn’t willing to leave Kelly alone. And since the cabin consisted of one open room downstairs and the loft bedroom, there was nowhere to run and hide. So he’d gone to the front deck and planted himself there for a few hours. Kelly had left him alone.
Nick had to smile. Just the fact that Kelly knew to leave him alone was something. He could almost forgive him for calling him out like he had.
He heard Kelly coming to the door, and he turned his head. “You need help?”
“No, I’m good,” Kelly answered when he pushed past the screen door. He shuffled closer, holding his hand to his chest. He stopped at Nick’s side and stared off at the setting sun. “I’m steadier if I don’t take the pain pills.”
“Yeah, but then you’re in pain.”
Kelly shrugged. “It takes some of the fear out of it. Being able to feel it all the way through. I’m realizing I’ve been babying myself for no reason.”
Nick peered up at him. He brought the cigarette to his mouth and sucked on the filter. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in almost twenty years. But he still liked the way they felt in his hands, the ritual of bringing one to his lips, the way the tobacco smelled.
Kelly finally looked down at him. “Phantom smoking, huh?”
Nick smiled weakly, shrugging.
Kelly snickered and sat. “You know what the squids used to call you behind your back when you’d do that?”
“Ghost lighter,” Nick answered, beginning to smile more. Kelly laughed. Nick handed the cigarette to him, and he put it in his mouth and sucked on the filter like Nick had done, then handed it back.
Nick stared at the cigarette for a long moment. He’d started smoking at twelve. He’d been eighteen when he’d met Ty, and the man had almost instantly broken him of it. He hadn’t shamed him out of it or tried to subvert the habit, though. He’d simply stated the fact that craving a cigarette was one more weakness someone could exploit and that had been that.
A week later, Nick had been almost done with it. Almost. The only thing that remained was a craving for the action. It didn’t matter if it was a cigarette, a straw, or a stick. He almost always had something in his mouth, like the toothpick Kelly had plucked from his lips that morning. It didn’t matter. It was still a weakness, he supposed. One of his few. And Kelly knew the whole story.
“I could never break myself of it.”
“We all have our vices,” Kelly muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said under his breath. He glanced at Kelly, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Kelly shook his head. “Me too. I knew better. I shouldn’t have poked at that.”
“You’re one of the only people who knows it’s there to poke. I have to give you points for that.” They stared at each other in the silence, neither compelled to speak or look away. Nick brought the cigarette to his mouth again, sucking in the faint taste of tobacco before handing it over to Kelly. “You ready for that walk now?”
“No.” Kelly pulled a lighter out of his back pocket and lit the cigarette. He took a long drag, then exhaled the smoke in a stream that began to waft on the breeze. He grinned. “A hole shot in my lung, I was hoping you’d be able to see smoke come through the stitches,” he said, snickering as he handed it back to Nick.
Nick smiled sadly, watching his companion in the dying light. He turned his attention to the glowing tip of the cigarette. He’d been a private the last time he’d smoked. He stared at it a little longer, then turned it over and ground the tip into the railing.