A Fallen Heart (3 page)

Sam shot him an annoyed look.

“And the rest of the guys are bringing something. Caleb’s bringing a dessert his sister made.”

“I had dessert covered,” Sam protested.

Adam walked across the living room, pulled Sam in close, and kissed his forehead. “Hostess cupcakes are not dessert. They are a goddamn abomination.”

“They are not. They’re—”

There was a knock at the door, and Sam paused midsentence, turning to open it. Ford took his shoes off and pushed them to the side, then backed up to make room for everyone else to come in.

Sam threw the door open and ushered Caleb, Nash, and Rob inside.

“Hey, guys. Thanks so much for coming.”

“Peach cobbler, from Dani,” Caleb said, passing the dish to Sam and dipping his head in greeting to Ford.

Rob carried a case of beer in—Pabst Blue Ribbon apparently—and set it down on the coffee table.

“We were just having a glass of wine before dinner.”

“Or four,” Adam mumbled under his breath.

Sam glared at Adam as he shepherded everyone into the living room, but even under the irritated look, Ford saw the love there anyway. It was disgusting.

“Adam, make yourself useful. Everyone needs drinks.”

“You got it.”

Drinks were poured, and the men gathered in the living room—Sam on the couch, Adam perched on the arm above him, always close. Rob and Caleb each chose one of the armchairs, and Ford lowered himself to the floor in front of the fireplace. Nash sat on the floor a few feet from Ford, legs crossed, leaning against the wall.

Ford had to admit that the place seemed so much more comfortable and homey now that Sam and Adam had moved all their stuff in. The first time he toured the place, he was surprised by how stark and clinical it appeared. The space he’d pictured them in was warmer, more cozy, but with their plush furniture and personal touches—pictures of their families and friends, as well as other keepsakes they’d gathered over the years—it was everything Ford expected in the home they’d chosen.

His apartment was much smaller and seemed dismal and gray in comparison. He made a mental note to look into getting some newer, grown-up furniture. Living alone on a nurse’s salary, even with the insane amount of overtime he clocked, did not allow for vaulted ceilings and ocean views. Drab and sort of cramped was a good descriptor, but he spent so little time there, it didn’t ultimately matter much.

The wine flowed as easily as the conversation. Sam relayed the trials and tribulations they’d gone through to get the place they bought. Ford looked around as Sam explained that originally there was another couple who had outbid them for the apartment. Adam and Sam had been disappointed when they thought they’d lost it but found out later the couple who outbid them actually lived downstairs. They’d seen Adam and Sam looking at the place with their Realtor, and not wanting to live in the same building as “sodomites,” they had overbid them on the asking price of the condo, in the hopes they would move on.

“But they had no intention of ever buying the place. The contract fell through when they neglected to come up with financing, and so we jumped on it,” Adam finished for him.

“Do they still live here?” Rob asked.

Adam nodded and crossed his arms. “Right below us.”

“Well, that’s awkward,” said Caleb.

“Maybe for them. But our first night in here, we made sure they were aware of exactly how much we enjoy being ‘sodomites.’”

Adam chuckled and Sam blushed.

“What a couple of fucking assholes. They had to have known they’d get caught. What a shitty situation,” Rob said.

“It worked out for us in the end. When it came to light what had happened, the original owner of the place knocked off a couple thousand dollars to make up for what we’d gone through,” Adam said.

“This place is perfect for us.” Sam’s eyes looked almost misty as he spoke.

Ford felt the knot in his throat. He needed to slow down on the wine. He was getting emotional. Although Sam and Adam were the only couple together in the room, and he was by no means a third wheel, the bitterness threatened to sneak in. He pushed it back, not wanting his issues to put a damper on the night.

“Who wants a tour?” Sam asked.

Everyone volunteered, and when the food arrived a moment later, Adam offered to set it out while Sam showed everyone around.

It was a very short tour. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all one space, with the ceiling in the living room open to the second floor. There was a staircase that ran along the wall to access the second floor, which held the three bedrooms—master and en suite, along with two guest rooms—as well as Sam’s office and a bathroom with a shower large enough for three or four people to fit comfortably inside, which Caleb demonstrated when he pulled Ford and Rob into the enclosure with him.

The place was gorgeous, all high ceilings and industrial brick walls. Large windows let in the light of the city and a peekaboo view of the water from the far right. The place oozed Adam and Sam, and as intensely jealous as Ford was, he was happy for his friends.

Sam led the tour back to the main floor, and everyone sat down to eat at the large farmhouse-style table that shouldn’t have worked in the space but somehow did.

The food was amazing and the company even better. They got together regularly, but usually they chose the Copper Nickel, a bar centrally located near the hospital. It wasn’t the trendiest place, but it was the gathering spot for most of the emergency personnel in the area. It was nearly always busy, weekdays as busy as weekends, which also meant it was generally loud.

Ford wasn’t sure they’d ever gathered at someone’s home for dinner. It felt so… adult. Adam offered him another glass of wine. He was going to need to pour himself into a cab soon or he wouldn’t be vertical enough to get home. But never being one to turn down an offer of alcohol, of course he accepted.

Everyone at the table erupted with laughter when Rob finished telling a story about a call they’d done the week before where a grown man had gotten his head stuck in between the slats of his headboard during a particularly energetic round of sex with his girlfriend.

Ford felt good. Laughing felt amazing, and he loved his friends more than anything. It had been too long since he’d taken a night to let loose and decompress.

Even the new guy, Nash, was holding his own with the other guys. He knew from experience that breaking into a group so tightly knit wasn’t always the easiest, yet he seemed to fit right in, as though he’d always been a part of it. The way he looked at Ford, though, made goose bumps pop up on Ford’s skin. It made him hyperaware of himself. He felt
noticed
, and it put him on edge more than it should have.

When dinner was done, Ford helped clean up the kitchen. Since they’d ordered in, there weren’t that many dishes to be done, so they made quick work of the handful of plates and stashed the leftovers in the fridge. Adam and Sam weren’t going to have to cook for a week at least, which was good, because the interior of their fridge was basically empty.

Nash was drying the last of the platters Caleb had washed, and Rob and Adam were in the living room talking about hockey, a subject Ford had absolutely no interest in.

“I’m going to step out for a second,” Ford said, gesturing toward the window and ignoring the disappointed expression on Sam’s face. He knew how Sam felt about his smoking, but he’d come a long way from the pack a day he used to inhale, quite literally.

The heat in the kitchen was getting to him, which probably had something to do with the way Nash kept catching his eye. The interested glances and flirty looks hadn’t subsided. Ford couldn’t decide if he enjoyed the attention or if he was feeling self-conscious. It had been so long since he’d done this—since long before Peter—that the whole situation felt foreign.

“I’ll come with you. If that’s okay,” Nash said, pulling Ford from his thoughts.

Ford shrugged one shoulder and answered before he could think too hard about it. “Sure.”

They ducked out the window on the west side of the apartment and perched themselves on the fire escape. Nash shut the window behind them, closing them off from the rest of the group. They were in easy view of the guys in the kitchen, but somehow it felt more secluded, almost intimate.

Digging into his back pocket, Ford grabbed the half pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and set it between his lips as he shoved his hand into his pocket for his lighter.

Nash was quicker, flicking his thumb, bringing the flame to life before leaning forward to light Ford up. He inhaled, the tip burning to life as he dragged the smoke into his lungs, embracing the sudden rush of light-headedness and the swift sensation of relaxation. The feeling was instant, and Ford remembered why he’d been addicted in the first place.

He offered the pack to Nash. “They’re probably incredibly stale. I don’t even remember the last time I had one.”

Nash reached out, took one, and lit it, the flame of the lighter casting a warm glow on his face, before he leaned back against the metal railing and dragged the smoke slowly into his lungs.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Welcome.”

“I don’t smoke much, but there’s something about having a cigarette after a few drinks. Makes it smoother somehow. Evens everything out.”

Ford knew exactly what Nash meant. “I quit a year ago, but when it comes to wine, I can’t seem to help having one or two, even if Sam disapproves.”

“Ah, I’m sure he’s only looking out for you. You guys have been friends for a long time, yeah?”

“A couple of years. We met his first week at the hospital. I’ve been there a bit longer.”

Nash tapped the ash over the edge. “You like it? Saint Joe’s is a good place to work, I mean?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine going anywhere else. I’ve been there since I was in school, and everyone, for the most part anyway, is good people. We’re incredibly lucky.”

“Seems like it.”

“How do you like working with Adam and the crew so far?” Ford asked, surprised that he was genuinely curious.

A wide grin split Nash’s face, and Ford could feel the happiness radiating from him. His expression was so open, his body language unguarded.

“It’s better than I ever thought possible.”

Ford winced exaggeratedly. “Hard to believe anyone would say that about being Adam’s partner, but I guess Sam likes him all right.”

Nash laughed. “Yeah, they seem to be pretty gone on one another.”

“They really are. It’s kind of gross, actually.”

“I think it’s nice. Of course it’s not like that with Adam and me, obviously, but the station I came from was not… as accepting as this one.”

“How so?”

“I caught a lot of flak from some of the other medics there, and Clint, my partner, and I never clicked. He was a nice enough guy and a good paramedic. I never had to second-guess decisions he made on a call or anything. But I always secretly thought he believed he might ‘catch the gay’ from me.”

“What a douche.”

“Yep. Maybe I had unrealistic expectations of how partners were supposed to be. My dad was a paramedic, and his partner was his best friend. I always wanted that, to have that close relationship, but Clint always felt like a stranger I was stuck in the truck with for hours at a time.”

“And Adam’s better?”

“Yeah. They’ve taken me in and made me part of their family, giving me shit like I’ve always been there, and this is only a few weeks in. It’s kind of incredible. I was lucky to get in on that platoon at that station.”

“I think you were one of the only ones to apply.”

Nash tucked one hand into his pocket. “Maybe. My old unit chief mentioned that crew had a reputation. I won’t repeat what he called them. He and I never got along that well either. I guess he heard that some of the other guys were gay and thought I’d fit right in. I do, but I hope it has more to do with my stellar personality than with my appreciation for cock.”

Ford laughed around the last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and dropping the butt in an empty bottle.

“We should probably get back in,” Ford said, a little shiver going through him. They’d been out there longer than he’d anticipated, and the more time he spent with Nash, the more he liked him. In fact, Nash had Ford’s type written all over him, but that was definitely not going to happen.

AS THE
evening wore on, the cobbler was consumed, the dishes put away, and more than half the wine bottles emptied. They were sitting in the living room, bullshitting with one another and relaxing. Ford’s tension melted away with each glass of wine and story shared. He sank into the couch, pulling his feet up under him, and enjoyed being with his people.

“So Nash,” Sam began, staring directly at Nash. “You play for our team, huh?”

“Dex,” Adam started, but Sam ignored him.

“Mmm-hmm,” Nash hummed around the rim of his wineglass as he tipped the merlot into his mouth.

“So that makes Rob the only straight boy in our crew.”

Rob threw his arm around Caleb and leaned his head down against Caleb’s shoulder. “How can you be so sure?” He batted his eyelashes.

Caleb chuckled and pushed him off. “Dude, there isn’t enough money in the world.”

Rob feigned irritation and moved away from Caleb. “You would be so lucky, Caleb Callaghan.”

Caleb rolled his eyes.

Sam ignored them both. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Sam glanced over to Adam.

“Don’t even think about it,” Adam warned.

“Oh, come on. I want all our friends to be as happy as we are. Who can we set him up with? Caleb! You’re single.”

Caleb grinned. “No offense, Nash. You’re pretty and all, but I don’t date medics. Ever. Too much bullshit flying around the service already—I don’t need gossip about my love life added to it.”

“You’re afraid he’d blab about how small your dick is,” Rob teased him.

Caleb growled and stood, his hands flying to his belt buckle. “Small, huh?”

“Goddammit, Caleb, no one wants to see your dick. Sit the fuck down,” Adam barked.

“What about that guy you set me up with, Ford?” Sam paid no attention at all to Caleb’s display, focusing instead on Ford. His mind seemed to be made up about matchmaking for Nash.