2015 Top Ten Gay Romance

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

The patches of concrete Dr. Jesse Okenah spied below the thick overgrown brush and tall weeds told him he was indeed on the correct path to Wade Carter’s entryway. When Jesse had pulled up to the house he could barely see the front door or the windows that flanked it through all the neglected foliage covering the yard. It must have been ages since anyone had tended to it. And once he had emerged from the vegetation to stand before the faded green door, the peeling paint and cobwebs only reinforced his decision to take this detour across town.

After Wade’s appointment the day before, Jesse couldn’t get the man out of his head. Wade’s chart read like a laundry list of post-traumatic stress—depression, rage, insomnia, nightmares—and all on top of a permanently disabled leg. Jesse couldn’t begin to imagine how defeated Wade must feel. After eight months of physical therapy, Wade hadn’t progressed like he should. Something was holding him back. He had some big walls to climb on the road to recovery, and without family or friends to see him through it, Jesse couldn’t blame Wade for being cynical. If he didn’t push through that bitterness, and those unresolved feelings, he’d be left a shell of a man…or worse.

Jesse’s heart ached thinking that a guy like Wade would give up that easily. He’d seen plenty of that working with the older vets at the Indian Hospital, and he despised seeing someone young and virile become another tragic statistic. Although Jesse barely knew the man, he knew Wade was a soldier, a fighter. Jesse had caught a glimpse of that stubborn soldier hiding behind those brooding sky blue eyes the previous day, and he intended to coax the man out.

He couldn’t deny there were other reasons he wanted to see Wade. Doctor or not, he was still a hot-blooded man. And Wade sure got his blood heated. That fiery mouth affected him more than anything had in quite a while. Wade’s bad leg didn’t detract from the appeal of his classic swimmer’s build and long limbs. In fact, it gave him an air of humility that tempered his American poster-boy good looks. Wade’s sandy blond hair had grown rather long, and that beard was as wild as his front yard, but Jesse saw the raw, sexy man underneath, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to see more.

Wade’s blue eyes had bewitched him. They really were the windows to his soul. Jesse read every emotion with such clear intensity that he wondered if the man could ever play a successful game of poker. Seriously, he felt like he was at the theater as he watched anger, shame, guilt, sorrow, and sparks of pride play out through those expressive eyes. And maybe a hint of attraction, though Wade’s frequent blushing and nervous response to his touch would have been enough to tell him that. Jesse smiled knowing Wade surely hated how easily he could be read, which was probably why he came off churlish. All that gruff exterior meant he was protecting a vulnerable interior, and Jesse would have to tread carefully. He didn’t want to scare the man away.

Jesse pressed the cracked button of the doorbell and added a knock for good measure.

He figured Wade was home since a pick-up truck with Army bumper stickers sat in the driveway. After a few moments had passed he rang the bell and knocked again. “Wade?” He hoped a voice might motivate the man to come to the door.

Eventually, the lock unlatched and Wade appeared.

“Doc?”

Even in worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, Wade looked enticing, the thin cotton stretching over all the right parts. But the sunken eyes and pallid complexion were more troublesome than alluring. His hair was disheveled as if he’d been sleeping, and Jesse fought the urge to reach out and smooth it down.

“Hi—”

“What are you doing here?” Wade blurted out, eying him suspiciously.

“It’s good to see you, too. How about those Sooners?” Jesse joked.

Wade’s eyes widened. “Something’s wrong. Is Dr. Allen okay?”

“Actually, she is going to be okay, but they put her on bed rest for the last month of her pregnancy.”

“Oh, good…I’m glad she’s on the mend.” Wade’s shoulders relaxed, but his knuckles were white as they gripped the edge of the door. “You could have just called.”

“But then I couldn’t have stopped by after work to see if you wanted to take a walk.”

Wade’s blue eyes considered him before he furrowed his brow. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need your pity.” With that he slammed the door, sending a few stray paint chips flying. So much for not scaring him off.

Jesse stepped close to the door. “Wade! It’s not like that.”

Suddenly, the door flew open and Jesse stumbled backward.

“Why else would you be here?” Wade asked, leaning against the door frame.

“You said you didn’t trust yourself walking alone.”

Wade smirked. “You’re saying you’d come out to any of your patients’ homes if they needed it?”

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

Jesse huffed. “Listen. I’m sorry I showed up unannounced, but I’m being honest here. Your leg’s only going to get stronger if you use it, and I want you to get stronger.”

“I know that, it’s just…” Wade shook his head. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because it’s about time someone did. Then maybe you’ll start believing you’re worth the trouble.”

Wade’s gaze snapped up to meet his. He stared at Jesse for what seemed like ages and Jesse could see the fear behind Wade’s eyes.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, Doc. You really don’t want to get to know me.”

Jesse held his steady gaze. “Bullshit,” he chirped, echoing Wade. Jesse gestured toward the path with an open palm. “Shall we?”

Wade blinked, dropping his glare, and adjusted his cane.

Jesse prepared to hear an excuse, but instead Wade opened the door wider to walk out. Jesse cheered on the inside as he moved back and waited for Wade to lock up. “I’m only doing this because, for whatever goddamned reason, you decided to waste your free time walking the streets with a gimp.” Wade’s grumbling was a small price to pay for victory.

Jesse followed as Wade struggled to push the dead plants aside. “Blasted weeds!” They finally made it to the sidewalk and brushed off their clothes.

“My mother’s green thumb might explode if she saw this,” Jesse said.

“Maybe she can clean it up then.”

Jesse smiled. “If I told her about it, she just might.” And he finally got a chuckle out of Wade.

“Where in Lawton do you live?” Wade asked.

“Near the Reservation.” He absentmindedly reached over and picked a dried leaf out of Wade’s hair. “We go slow,” Jesse warned, before Wade could comment.

“Like there’s any other speed I can go,” Wade groused, as he began to walk, eyeing Jesse. “You Comanche?”

Jesse nodded. “Half. My mother is Comanche, or as we say Numinu, and my father is a mix of English and Swedish. He was stationed at Fort Sill.”

“And they live around these parts?”

“My mother does. My father died in the Persian Gulf.”

“I’m sorry.” Wade squinted in his direction.

“Thanks.” Jesse missed his dad very much. His father had always been good to his family, but he had given his life doing what he loved most—serving his country. Jesse couldn’t have been more proud. His mother still had her bad days, when grief overwhelmed her to the point of collapse, but she always made a point to tell Jesse how much she admired him working with veterans. It pleased him to know he could make her happy. “What about your parents?”

“They’re alive.” Wade shoved his free hand in his pocket, the other fidgeting on the cane.

Definitely a sore subject. “Where do they live?” Jesse asked tentatively, remembering Wade had mentioned he didn’t have any family or friends to help him out.

“Oklahoma City.”

Jesse wondered what was behind the terse answers. “That’s not far. Do they come out to see you?”

“Nope.”

“Can I ask why?” Jesse knew he was prying, but he couldn’t help it.

“You can ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tell,” he replied.

“Fair enough.” He had no intention of making Wade angry. He just hoped Wade would come to trust him enough to talk about it.

They walked for a few moments without saying a word, and Jesse could hear the faint rustle of the wind through the rosebud trees that lined the streets. A chill swept over his skin as twilight settled over them. Jesse stole a glance at Wade out of the corner of his eye. The man looked utterly exhausted. If he thought Wade would appreciate the gesture, Jesse would have wrapped an arm around his shoulder for support.

Wade sighed. “I told them not to visit, and I didn’t return their calls. Eventually, they just stopped trying. And I’m fine with that.”

Jesse’s heart sank. “You sure?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“But…” Jesse’s mother and father played a huge role in his life. They had supported him in everything he had ever dreamed of doing, from guitar lessons to medical school. Most importantly, they had stood by him when he came out. His life would be empty without their love and support, and he couldn’t fathom how someone could sever that bond on purpose. “…I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Why?” Wade stopped abruptly and turned to face Jesse, his eyes storming with emotion. “I left for Afghanistan a decorated Sergeant. I was young, confident, and proud of myself and my country.” His eyes cast downward. “When I came back, I had little respect for anything, including myself. Now look at me.” Wade shrugged. “Why would I want my parents to see me like this?”

“Like what?”

“Damaged!” Wade inhaled a shaky breath. “You don’t get it. I’m not the same person I was before I left. I liked that person. I can’t say the same for who I am now.” He flexed his fingers on the handle of the cane and looked off into the distance.

Jesse wished he could give Wade an easy fix, offer some tried and true advice, or hand over a magic pill that would take him back in time, but he knew better than that. He was sure Wade knew as well as he did that PTSD was not a quick or easy battle. The question was did Wade want to fight? “You can’t do this alone, Wade. You need long-term support in order to get better and regain that person you lost.”

He shook his head, avoiding Jesse’s gaze.

“What about your friends in the Army?”

“My so-called friends don’t want to hang around with a miserable cripple. Not that I blame them. s**t, I don’t even like being around me.”

“I don’t find it so bad,” Jesse said.

Wade snorted. “No offense, Doc, but you’ve only known me for a couple hours. Give it time.”

“I am.” Jesse replied, as Wade paused at the entrance to the park near the end of the street.

“We can cut through the park and loop back around to my house,” Wade said, ignoring Jesse’s comment.

They both gazed out toward the park.

“Wanna race?” Jesse joked.

Wade barked out a laugh, but the movement caught him off balance and he pitched forward. “Dammit!”

Jesse stepped in front and got up under Wade’s shoulder, hauling Wade against his chest in a flash as the cane clattered to the ground. “Gotcha…” Jesse said. Wade’s body was warm and firm against his, those blue eyes wide with shock. Jesse watched as Wade’s gaze darted to his mouth, heavy breaths teasing his face. What he read in his eyes made his heart race. Jesse dared to glance at Wade’s parted lips and he swallowed. Temptation pulsed through him, coiling in the center of his groin.

A car drove by, loud music thumping and vibrating through the street, and Jesse looked out towards it. It reminded him where they were.

“You can let go of me now, Doc,” Wade said, squirming in his arms.

“Right.” Jesse released him and bent down to get the cane. “You okay?” Jesse asked, studying Wade’s face for any sign of pain. His skin was flushed, and he avoided Jesse’s eyes.

“I’m fine.” Wade said, brusquely, moving forward.

“For someone who didn’t want to go for a walk, you sure are motivated now,” Jesse teased, trying to make light of the situation.

Wade sniffed, but didn’t answer. Could he be embarrassed? Or something else? Jesse gave him space as they made their way through the park, eventually emerging back onto the street.

They walked the rest of the way back to the house in silence, Jesse enjoying the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves, content just to have Wade’s company. The moon had replaced the sun as they came upon Wade’s home.

“I’m bringing my machete next time,” Jesse said, trudging through the brush toward the front door.

Wade chuckled behind him. “Next time?”

Jesse knew without a doubt he’d be back to do this again. Wade needed someone to push him out of his comfort zone. More importantly, Wade needed someone to show him he had all the tools necessary to heal. “Tomorrow. Same time.”

Wade was quiet as he pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Finally, he turned toward Jesse and nodded. “Okay, Doc.” He didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown either.

“Would you call me Jesse, please?”

Shadows played over the both of them as they stood under Wade’s porch light, but Jesse could still see something sweet and genuine flicker in Wade’s eyes. He had taken more chances tonight than he normally would have, especially with a patient. Without knowing it, Wade had dared Jesse to push him forward, and he responded to the challenge in kind.

“Goodnight, Wade,” he said with a wave.

“Night,” he replied, as Jesse turned down the path. “Jesse,” he added in a much lower voice that made his insides ache. He forced himself the rest of the way to his car without looking back.