Page 17

seventeen

KASH

It took two weeks for the plague to run through everyone’s house and half the guys at Adele’s station. It was a fairly mild virus, but everyone caught it. Frey was pretty sure Rex was patient zero and sent everyone homemade muffin baskets with a surprisingly tasty array. Kash and Adele made half a dent in theirs before Adele took the rest to the station to share, and Kash went back to eating soup and taking baths until his throat felt better and his muscles stopped feeling like he’d been run over by a truck.

He felt like a human a few days before his first appointment with the local physical therapist. His former department was covering twelve sessions—and that was it. Adele wanted to fight it, but Kash didn’t. He was exhausted. He wanted to get through this so he could get back to…well, he wasn’t sure what.

Something productive. Adele had told him he was welcome to stay home, that everything he had was Kash’s, but he wasn’t going to be satisfied with that. He knew it deep in his bones. He didn’t care what he did, but he couldn’t sit at home. His brain wasn’t wired that way .

Which was why he was now on his way to discuss the cost of a wheelchair.

His physiotherapist had been more like a mental health therapist by the end of the session. Kash knew it was best for him. He reminded himself of the beach day and the specialist appointments in DC and how much strain he’d put on Adele. He reminded himself he could have gotten through all of that without needing help at all if he’d had something that allowed him the freedom of mobility.

But he was struggling to accept that this was his life now.

“The term is called ambulatory wheelchair user,” Malek told him. He had a soothing voice—a very low, soft rumble that didn’t match his baby face. He had dark-olive skin and tight curls worn in a bun at the base of his neck. He was young—he didn’t look more than his late twenties, but Kash was in no position to question him since he seemed to know what he was doing. And he had a way of speaking that made Kash feel like he was being listened to instead of patronized. “In layman’s terms, it’s…”

“A part-time chair user,” Kash finished from his spot on the floor. They were working on stretches that he could do at home on his own.

“Exactly. It doesn’t mean you’ve given up or that you’ve failed in some way. It just means you’re taking your independence into your own hands.”

Kash stared down at his hands, which were clasping the back of his thigh. He flexed his toes, then pointed them, then flexed.

“Switch legs,” Malek ordered.

Kash did. His legs weren’t tight today, so the task was easier than usual. “It’s going to be expensive, isn’t it?”

Malek sighed. “You have a prescription for one, which will help when you ask your insurance to cover it, but they could decide that you can get along with your orthotics and cane just fine and consider it medically unnecessary.”

Kash felt a weight in his chest. “Do I fight?”

“Some people do—and some people win. Some people lose. There’s always crowdfunding?—”

“I’m not going to beg,” Kash snapped, then stopped himself and looked away. “I won’t beg.”

“It’s not begging, but I get it. Trust me when I say the very idea that we’re reduced to this shit here,” Malek said, then trailed off, shaking his head. “My family was lucky. My mom’s parents emigrated to Canada from Iran before she was born, and after she married my dad, she kept her citizenship, so we were dual citizens. My little brother was born with a form of muscular dystrophy, but my dad’s insurance kept denying his treatments, so she was able to take him to Toronto, and he got everything he needed without bankrupting us.”

Kash swallowed heavily. “I’m happy for him. Unfortunately, I don’t have a way in anywhere else like that.”

Malek bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I was trying to say?—”

“No. I get it,” Kash told him. He sat up and reached for his orthotics. He didn’t need them right then, but he wasn’t taking any risks. Not when his dystonia had flared up out of nowhere at the beach. The last thing he wanted was to have to call Adele at work for a rescue.

He wanted to prove he could do this—that he could take care of himself and figure out how to get himself out of sticky situations. If he could do that, he could breathe easy. If he couldn’t…well, he’d figure out how to cross that bridge when he came to it.

Deep down, he knew all roads would lead to Adele. He wasn’t a fool. He understood perfectly well that he was in love and always would be and that Adele would love him right back. He just needed to know this life would offer him the chance to be his own hero every now and again.

As ridiculous as that sounded.

He left PT and took the bus to the medical supply company. It was a nondescript little office tucked inside a strip mall. It was nestled between an audiologist, where a man who looked like he was definitely over a hundred was sitting on a chair out front, humming to himself, and a place that sold gyros.

He offered the old man a smile, though the old man didn’t even look up at him as he passed. His cane clinked softly on the pavement as he opened the door, and he was met with a smiling woman behind a desk, who was immediately on her feet when he walked in.

“Afternoon. You must be my three o’clock.”

“Busy day?” he asked.

She laughed. “My receptionist is out sick. Some nasty thing going around.”

Kash grimaced. “Yep. Our house just got over it. My so—my roommate’s son brought it home.” That was the second time he’d nearly slipped up. He’d seen the look on Adele’s face when he’d done it at home.

The look that said he wanted to drop to one knee and propose right there. And Kash would have been the worst liar if he said he didn’t go to bed that night and fantasize about that until he fell asleep.

But it felt a bit like emotional torture at the moment, so he shoved the thought away and followed the woman into the office directly next to the front desk. It was a wide space with comfortable chairs and various walking aids leaning against the wall. She had two folded wheelchairs in the corner and one very bulky electric one that he was pretty sure he’d have to sell a kidney on the black market to afford.

“So. I have your file.” She dropped behind her desk and wiggled her mouse to wake up her monitor.

He lowered himself into the seat beside her desk, and his gaze fixed on the corkboard behind her. There were photos pinned to every inch of adults and children alike, smiling with their new mobility aids.

“My friendship wall,” she said, and he jolted, looking back at her. She was smiling softly at him. “Kind of a cheesy name, I know.”

“No, it’s…nice.” Nice wasn’t the word he was looking for, but it didn’t make him feel bad about his situation, so he was going to go with that. “Do I have to go up there?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Some people really don’t like their picture taken. And some people aren’t ready to celebrate yet.”

He folded into himself a little. “So that’s normal?”

She set her hands on the desk and waited until he met her gaze. “It’s totally normal. My husband is a paraplegic. He and I actually work here together, but it took him years before he was ready to smile about a new wheelchair. Now, he plays basketball and sled hockey, and while there are days he’s still pissed off that someone got behind the wheel after spending six hours at a bar and changed his life, it’s not the first thought on his mind. But it was for a long while.”

“I have no one to blame for this,” he said, tapping his finger on the orthotic. It made a dull, hollow sound.

Cocking her head to the side, she studied him for a moment, then went back to her computer. “Upper and lower limb dystonia due to traumatic brain injury.”

“I’m—I was —a firefighter. I was injured on the job,” he explained. His voice was toneless, and he hadn’t meant it to be that way, but he still felt himself emotionally disconnect from the accident whenever he had to talk about it. “It came out of nowhere weeks after I was cleared to go back to work.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t currently have any clients with the condition.” She sat back and folded her arms. “Physio is recommending a manual wheelchair with power assist for days when your arms or hands aren’t very cooperative. That’s what your script is for.”

“Insurance covers that, right?”

Her face told him everything he needed to know. “The first step is choosing your best option. The second is making a good case for why it’s medically necessary. The third is?—”

“Crowdfunding because I really don’t want to sell a kidney?” he offered.

“We have financing?—”

“I don’t have a job,” he said quietly. He knew Adele would pay for it, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. A stubborn sensation as big as a boulder lodged in his chest. “I guess all we can do is try, right?”

Her eyes were full of pity, and he hated it, but he knew if their potions had reversed, he’d feel sorry for himself too. He was between a rock and a hard place, and in front of him was a waterfall so tall he had no idea where it might land.

“We’ll get you what you need. We’ll figure it out,” she promised him.

He didn’t believe her, and by the time the appointment was over, he had been proven right.

“How’d it go?”

Kash found his face lifting from the pressure of a hooked knuckle under his chin. He met the soft gaze of the one man who had been and always would be the love of his life. But he didn’t have an answer for Adele. The truth would burden him, and he didn’t want to lie. Not anymore.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around Adele’s waist and pulled him down into his lap. His weight was heavy, like a ballast, keeping him rooted to the cushion, and he tilted his face up higher for a kiss.

Adele did not disappoint. Their lips met, slow, easy, like they’d been doing this all their lives. He tasted like the overly sweet coffee creamer from 7-Eleven and mint gum.

“Mm. That was a nice surprise,” Adele said.

Kash huffed and kissed him a second time. Then a third. “Done for the night?”

Adele shrugged and fell back against the couch cushions, keeping his legs draped over Kash’s thighs. “Work was slow. Two electrical fires that didn’t get past the outlet and a fourteen-year-old who thought he was having a heart attack.”

“A child having a heart attack?” Kash asked.

Adele snorted and leaned a little closer. “Panic attack after taking too many hits off his brother’s vape thingie.”

Kash rolled his eyes. “Remember the good old days when it was sneaking overpriced schwag we bought off Travis and smoking stems and seeds out of old soda cans and pretending like we were baked?”

Adele burst into laughter. “Never let Gage hear you say that.”

“He wouldn’t know what the fuck I was talking about anyway,” Kash said. “Technology’s taken all the joy out of rebelling. ”

Adele hummed, then swung his legs toward the coffee table and shuffled closer until he was pressed right up against Kash. “Speaking of Gage. Have you seen him today?”

“He popped in for a minute to let me know he’s spending the night over at Lucas’s. They’re burning an effigy of that Braedon guy or whatever his name was.”

Adele raised a brow. “Man, he was really broken up about that dude, wasn’t he?”

He was. Gage wasn’t talking about it, but Kash had a feeling it was more than teen romance that had fallen apart. Gage was too much like his dad though. If they pushed him, he’d only end up more silent.

“I’m sure tonight will be the last of his woes,” Kash said, not quite believing it. But he was also feeling pessimistic after looking at the bill for the wheelchair options. He could still see those figures floating above his head, and his heart ached with disappointment because he knew his insurance wasn’t going to cover that. He’d already proven he could get around with his orthotics and cane. Asking for more would allow them to accuse him of being greedy.

“And there’s that face,” Adele said. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

Kash swallowed heavily. He should have known there was no avoiding his best friend’s gaze. He took a long, slow breath. “The wheelchair I need is probably off the table.”

Adele sat up straight. “What? Did your doctor fuck you over?”

“No. No, I got the prescription for it,” Kash said. “Then I went to the supply company in town, and we went over options. She was pretty confident I was going to get turned down, but she submitted the request anyway. The one I need is really pricey. ”

Adele sank back down. “Even if they deny you?—”

“Eight grand at least,” Kash said quietly. “And that’s for the shittiest model.” He swallowed heavily. “They have other ones. Uh…they’re not as lightweight, which she thinks will be pointless for my bad days, and I need this electric assist thing, and—and anyway, I’m starting to think there’s no point.”

Adele was quiet the whole time, his brow furrowed. Then his lips began to move, and he nodded. “Okay, so I have enough equity for?—”

“No.” Kash’s voice was firm. Not loud, but it was no-nonsense, and Adele immediately stopped for a beat.

“If you think I’m going to let you give up on this because of money, you’re out of your mind.”

“If you think I’m going to let you fuck with your house, you’re out of your mind,” Kash fired back.

Adele sat back with a heavy thud and folded his arms over his chest. “I have an idea.”

Kash hummed softly. “A ten-grand idea?”

“Maybe eleven.” Adele picked at his cuticles. “The calendar?—”

“That’s for the station,” Kash said swiftly.

“Actually, we got approved for our funding increase,” Adele told him. “I was going to announce the cancellation tomorrow. Some of the guys were going to be thrilled about it, but they’ll deal if it’s for you.”

“Some of the guys meaning you?” Kash asked.

Adele’s cheeks pinked. “Whatever. Two others might be a tad bummed about it, but they all like you. But yeah, for whatever reason, those fuckin’ weirdos were looking forward to stripping down and showing off their beans for charity, so they’ll be thrilled we don’t have to call it off.”

Kash burst into laughter in spite of himself. “No one shows their goddamn balls on those calendars. I should know. I’ve done three.”

Adele sat up straight again. “Wait. What? You never told me about that!”

“I didn’t…” Kash hesitated. “I didn’t want you to see.”

Adele looked immediately hurt. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t think you wanted me that way, and I didn’t want my naked body to make you even less attracted to me.”

Adele’s entire body was so still, for a second, Kash thought maybe he’d broken him. Then suddenly, he snapped back to life, and before Kash could draw in a breath, Adele had him pinned to the couch. He kissed him deep, with heavy, lush pulls of his tongue until Kash was groaning and half-hard.

“You’re a dipshit.”

Kash sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Adele kissed him again, then propped up on his elbows, his chest still pressing down on Kash’s body. “I’m going to find someone from your old station who still has copies. But for now, the calendars…”

“You can’t ask the guys to do that for me,” Kash murmured. “I’m not, you know, part of any crew anymore.”

“Bullshit. Just because you were hurt and can’t do the job the way you used to doesn’t mean you’re not still in the family. And you know for a fact all of them would slap you upside the head for being such a goddamn moron.”

Kash felt his throat go tight. “They’ll only say yes because they want to get naked on camera.”

Adele snorted a laugh. “I don’t want to get naked on camera, but I will for you. I will do anything for you. I’ll sign up for the second month if I have to.” Their gazes met again, and then Adele lifted a hand and traced lines between Kash’s freckles. “You know this, right? Tell me you know this.”

“I know it because I’d do the same thing if we had traded places,” Kash told him.

Adele closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, nuzzling his nose against Kash’s. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow about the change in funding. And if your insurance comes through, we can figure out something else to do with the money.”

“The station might also pay for it,” Kash said. That was also an option. Adele was right. They didn’t abandon one of their own, but he was so used to everything being out of his reach. He was so used to everything going all wrong.

“We’ll make it work. You’ll have the snazziest, zippiest wheels this side of the river.”

Kash laughed softly and wrapped his arms around Adele’s waist. “Take me to bed. I want you, and I don’t want to risk giving anyone a show if they decide to pop by.”

It was a real risk. So far, they hadn’t gotten caught, but Kash was waiting for the day when someone let themselves into the house and his bare ass was being pounded. He had enough trauma in his life. He didn’t want to make room for more until he’d processed a few other things.

Adele grinned down at him, then kissed him one last time. For good measure. “Come with me,” he murmured.

Kash didn’t hesitate as Adele climbed to his feet and offered him a hand.