A Heart for Robbie (18 page)

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Authors: J.P. Barnaby

Tags: #Romance - Gay, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction - Medical, #dreamspinner press

BOOK: A Heart for Robbie
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badly. After plucking the lube from Julian’s unresisting fingers, Simon

drizzled a bit on his own and pulled his knees up. Julian sat back on his haunches, watching with a hungry expression as Simon prepared himself.

Legs spread, heart open, Simon rubbed lube into his most intimate of

places as Julian’s gaze warmed him from the inside out.

Then his legs were around Julian, who slid into him and made them

one. He’d never considered sex in that way before, but nothing else came to his drink-addled mind. They were one, moving as one, gasping and

moaning as one. Simon’s heart slammed out a harsh staccato beat as

Julian’s arms slid under his shoulders, holding their bodies together while skin slapped against skin in the silence of his apartment.

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His cry reverberated off the walls. He was unable to contain his joy

at escaping the crushing loneliness even for a while, and Julian thrust

harder into him. Simon’s sensitive prick, trapped between their writhing bodies, pulsed. The friction of Julian’s skin, slick with sweat, drove him to the edge of reason. His arms tightened around Julian’s shoulders, pulling a damp brow onto his shoulder as he came, hard and fast, the wet heat

splattering on his own abdomen, making the slippery rubbing on his cock

that much better.

Julian’s breathing grew harsh against his ear, his face buried in

Simon’s shoulder, and he whimpered and cried. His thrusts were erratic

and hard, as was his grip, as Julian came in the condom buried deep in

Simon’s body.

He collapsed on top of Simon but rolled to the side almost

immediately. Simon felt cold without the heat of Julian’s body atop him, but before he could lose the afterglow, Julian rolled to his side and nuzzled into Simon’s neck, wrapping Simon in his arms.

They didn’t speak but simply held each other in the growing

darkness.

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Chapter 10

JULIAN WOKE with an aching slowness, a pain stabbing behind his left

eye, and a roll in his stomach. His mouth tasted like ranch-flavored slime, and everything seemed far too heavy to move. But he needed to move. He

didn’t know what had woken him, but it wouldn’t be too long before

Robbie would be awake and needing a bottle or a change. He reached over

to put a hand on Robbie’s chest, a morning ritual he’d adopted over the

last few weeks. But instead of landing on the chest of a tiny infant, his hand found something altogether different.

In a panic, Julian’s eyes flew open, and he looked to his side to see

Simon, the insurance coordinator from the hospital, sleeping peacefully

next to him. Naked but peaceful. Naked. He sat up, trying to remember

how he’d ended up hungover and naked in bed with a man he barely

knew. The code blue. Robbie had coded in the cath lab, his heart

stopping on the table. They wouldn’t let him stay with Robbie. Simon

took him home, only they stopped for food on the way. He’d gotten

sloppy drunk and gone home with Simon. His son lay fighting for his life in the hospital, and he’d just gotten laid. What a fabulous role model

he’d turned out to be.

A plan. He needed a plan. The world seemed to have descended into

chaos overnight, and he needed to find some kind of order. Thank God

Liam hadn’t shown up this morning, because he had no idea how he’d

explain his indiscretion.

Only, it didn’t feel like an indiscretion. Flashes of their lovemaking

flooded into his mind as he remembered the texture of Simon’s skin under his fingers and the tingle of his own skin under Simon’s mouth. His dick responded beneath the sheet.

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A phone dinged somewhere in the vicinity of the bed, and the panic

welled sharp and pungent in his chest. He needed to check on Robbie.

What if they’d called and he was passed out from a night of drunken sex?

Julian gazed down at the man lying beside him in bed, and a rush of want filled him, drowning him to the point where he felt like his head barely skimmed the surface. It wasn’t a sexual need, but more of a dream of no

longer being alone, of finding someone to share the burden of his life. He wanted to wake Simon, to lie in bed and talk with him until the sun rose and they stood side by side at the sink brushing their teeth or made

oatmeal together.

Instead, he sat up on the side of the bed and scanned the floor for

his jeans. A choking panic tried to settle in until he found them sitting in a nearby chair. Being careful not to wake Simon, he got up and pulled

his phone from the pocket. No calls. Thank God. He checked the time

and saw that it was coming up on 6:00 a.m. They’d fucked and slept for

over ten hours. It was, without a doubt, the best sleep he’d had in two

months.

A low moan issued from somewhere under a pillow on the bed, and

Simon poked his head out. The beginnings of a sunrise streamed through

the high bedroom window. Confusion marred Simon’s features, and then

his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. It would have been funny

had Simon not looked so terrified.

“Julian?”

“Let me call and check on Robbie,” Julian said after assessing his

priorities. Typing his son’s birthday into the lock screen on his phone, he smiled at Simon, trying to reassure him. Then he used speed dial to call the hospital.

“Cardiac ICU nurses’ station, please,” he told the helpful operator

and walked around the bed to sit on Simon’s side and put one hand on the sheet over his leg. Simon stilled, watching Julian.

“Hello, this is Julian Holmes. I’m calling to check on Robbie.”

Julian gave his security code and waited for the nurse to check it.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes. Actually, Dr. Martinez is here. She

just did her rounds with Robbie, so I’ll let you talk to her,” the nurse said cheerfully, and Julian listened to a little bit of background noise as the person on the other end of the phone changed. The accent morphed from a

clipped Midwestern to a slight Latino.

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“Hello, Mr. Holmes,” Dr. Martinez said, though it came out as more

of a question than a statement. Julian gripped the phone tighter.

“Hi, Dr. Martinez, how is Robbie this morning?”

Simon sat up, keeping the sheet over the lower half of his naked

body. He put a hand over Julian’s where it rested on his leg, and Julian smiled at him, waiting for Dr. Martinez.

“Young Robbie did very well last night. His vitals are stable, and

I’ve ordered them to wean him down to room oxygen over the course of

the morning. We were able to get an adequate picture of his heart. Not

great, but enough to see the condition is hindering his development, as

we’d feared. I’ve recommended to Dr. Dane that Robbie be moved up on

the list to the highest priority status.”

Julian stared at the bedside table, not taking in the framed

photographs or the lamp sitting there but trying to process the words he’d heard.

“I can’t tell if that’s good news or bad,” he said finally.

“Overall, it’s good news,” she said with a sigh. “We expected to see

a degeneration of cardiac function as Robbie grew, but with his change in list status, that gives him a better chance of getting a heart.”

“When do you think he’ll come home?”

“Oh, within the next day or two. He really is doing remarkably well

given the extent of deformity in his heart. You have a lot to do with that.”

“Let them know I’ll be there by eight, and I’m not leaving until I

take him home with me.”

“Did you sleep last night?” she asked, a lilting laugh in her voice.

“Like the dead.”

“Then I’ll make sure you have clearance to stay. I don’t see an issue

with it. The ICU rules are meant to protect the families as well as the

patients, Julian.”

“Thank you.”

The call disconnected, and he sighed. The confusion and bone-

crushing weariness of his perpetual lack of sleep seemed to have gone

with the dawn. He felt better than he had in quite some time.

“How’s Robbie?”

“They bumped him up to priority status on the transplant list, but if

he doesn’t get a heart, he won’t live till his first birthday.”

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“I… Julian,” Simon started and pulled his hand back from where it

rested on Julian’s.

He turned and met Simon’s gaze, surprised at the fear he saw there.

“Do you regret it?” Julian asked, searching his own feelings. He

found a lot of things there—fear among the most prevalent, but no regret.

He liked Simon. But the fear in Simon’s face didn’t lessen.

“Last night was one of the most amazing nights I’ve ever had. I

don’t regret being with you at all. I just wish we’d met under different circumstances. I… I can’t get involved with a patient or the father of a patient with the hospital. It’s a bad practice. I could get fired. Plus, I’m not even out. You don’t want to have to deal with that.” Simon pulled his

knees up to his chest, his breathing ragged and out of control. Julian

crawled around Simon and sat up against the headboard next to him. He

wrapped one arm around Simon’s shoulders in a gentle, protective way.

Simon, in turn, broke a little. His shoulders dropped, and he rested his head on Julian’s chest.

They sat like that for a long time. Julian desperately wanted someone

to hold him at night and tell him Robbie would be okay. He wanted to

make pasta together, and take Robbie to the park together, and make love until the sun came up. But all that came with a cost, and the currency was trust. He couldn’t force himself to walk away.

“Let’s just see where things go,” Julian whispered against Simon’s

hair. “I like you, more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. One way or another, Robbie won’t always be a patient. I don’t… I don’t want to give up on this.”

Simon pulled back, and his gaze met Julian’s with a quiet nod of

acceptance.

They made love again, slowly, deliberately, with Simon thrusting up

into Julian’s willing body. Their cries were the only punctuation to the passage of time. It was a declaration of a change in their relationship that neither of them would speak aloud.

THANK YOU for dinner and for listening.
Julian stared at the text for five full minutes before he found his balls and hit Send. After a second, the iMessage became marked as “delivered” and then “read.” Julian held his

breath as he waited for the elevator doors to open onto the cardiac ICU

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105

floor. They did, and he’d walked to the nurse’s station before his phone vibrated with two rapid bursts in his pocket. A text. Julian forced himself to walk past the desk and into the ICU. He scrubbed up in the sink and

then went to Robbie’s crib.

“Hey, buddy,” Julian said, holding out a finger for Robbie to grab as

he lay in the crib staring up at his father with accusing eyes.

Where have you been, Daddy?

“They made me leave last night, buddy. I’m sorry. I missed you.”

Julian stroked Robbie’s wispy-fine hair with the gloved hand not currently being played with by his son. “They said you’re feeling better today. Are you doing okay?” Robbie smiled, like the sun rose and set in his father.

All Julian wanted in the world was to live up to his son’s expectations. He wanted to be Robbie’s whole world.

Unable to take it any longer, Julian took his hand off Robbie’s head

and awkwardly pulled his phone out of the opposite pocket. No way

would he dislodge his son’s fingers from his own. It took several minutes, but eventually it was in his hand. He glanced at the display.

You’re welcome.
That’s it? Just, you’re welcome? Julian tossed the phone onto Robbie’s mattress rather than struggling to put it back in his pocket. It vibrated again and displayed another text.
You make me feel like
I’m worth fighting for.

Something warmed in his chest as Julian glanced around the empty

ICU for the Nazi nurse who threw him out the night before. He didn’t see her. In fact, it didn’t appear that anyone really paid attention to him. He slipped his fingers out of the glove and sent a text back.

You are. Let me show you. Have dinner with me at my place when

Robbie is released?

He slipped the glove back on and held his breath. It took more than

five minutes for the single word to come back through his text messages.

Okay.

Over the next two days, Julian spent most of his waking moments in

the hospital next to his son’s bed. He texted with Simon. He talked on the phone with Erin. He sat playing gin rummy with his mother. As much as

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