Page 3 of The Grumpy Vet (Vet Shop Boys Down Under #3)

Ryde

The last time I was this excited, this impatient for time to hurry the fuck up, was the Christmas I was seven and desperate for Santa to bring me a Nintendo Wii. But the gift of actually being at Linus's house is way better than that. Dario has come through big time.

There was no sign of Linus when we walked past his house to get to the second driveaway, but he's got the afternoon off like we do, so maybe he's inside. Maybe he'll drop in unannounced, and I can… Um… I can… Fuck. I don't know what exactly I'd do, flirt-wise or whatever. But at least I won't be drunk, and I'll have Dario as my wingman, so I won't make a complete fool of myself.

Hopefully.

"Whoa,"

Dario says once he lifts the roller door, and we step into the carport.

"Linus made it sound like a modest home gym, but there is nothing modest about this."

He's right about that.

My eyes are immediately drawn to an impressive heavy-duty squat rack and a bench press station surrounded by weight plates and rows of neatly arranged dumbbells. A smart treadmill and a digital elliptical machine occupy the back corners. The sleek gear, the soft LED lighting, and the polished, rubberised floor could give any boutique fitness club in the big smoke a run for its money.

"It explains his killer body,"

Dario says, dropping his duffel bag on the ground and approaching the weights area.

"It sure does,"

I reply, effortlessly bringing up a mental montage of Linus's killer body—his sculpted arse in those slightly-too-tight work pants, his wide shoulders that command attention and are great to latch on to when being assisted while stumbling out of an establishment, his chiselled biceps that flex powerfully with every movement he makes, like when he lifts the kettle to pour himself a cup of tea, which he does whenever he manages to find a spare moment.

The man is a living, walking, breathing Greek sculpture, one that may have inspired a new kink—watching a hot man drink tea.

Dario spins around to face me.

"All right. So I've been hearing you go on incessantly about how excited you are to be here. We're here. All three of us."

He grabs his midsection.

"Now let's get to work on saying bye-bye to Blug Blug, shall we?"

I roll my eyes and point to the weight bench.

"Lie down on that and shut up."

His eyes light up.

"Ooh. Bossy PT vibes are so hot."

"Which part of shut up are you not clear on?"

Smiling, he saunters over to the bench while I grab a couple of light dumbbells from the rack.

I guess he's right, I have been going on about today and how great it is to finally get a small glimpse into Linus's world that he guards so closely.

But if I've been getting on Dario's nerves with my half-stalkery, half-desperate behaviour, he hasn't said anything because that's the type of good friend he is.

I have, however, occasionally noticed his jaw clenching slightly, but that's only after I've been droning on about Linus for what even I can admit is an exceptionally long time.

Bottom line, Dario is always there for me.

Always has been.

Listening and being a supportive friend. It's my turn to repay him now. Even if I maintain there is nothing wrong with the way he looks, and I'm only doing this because it's what he wants.

I hand him the weights.

"Let's get you warmed up. Up and down, nice and slow, even breathing. Gimme eight."

He starts the reps then after a few breaths, he says, "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it."

I concentrate on his form. He used to work out a lot, so his form and technique are spot on.

"I've already lost half a kilo thanks to your good cooking. Oh, and it helps not having access to my favourite Thai place."

"Yeah. The closest you'll get to Thai around here is when Mrs. Mangle goes experimental and adds a Thai basil beef pie to the menu."

His face scrunches up.

"That sounds gross."

"That one was actually on the better, more edible end of the spectrum. Her chicken pad Thai pie was…not good."

I guide him through the rest of the warm-up sequence before moving on to heavier weights. Since it's our first session, I take it easy. I'm more interested in seeing how he responds and determining what level he's at than pushing him to his limit.

After about forty minutes, we finish off with a ten-minute light jog, and by we, I mean Dario cools down on the treadmill while I take advantage of the situation we find ourselves in and scope out Linus's house from the open roller door. Unfortunately, there's not much to see, just the back porch and a bit of the yard.

"There's something I don't get,"

Dario says, keeping a steady pace on the machine.

I leave the door and walk back over to him.

"What's that?"

"Your dad and Linus are best friends and have known each other for decades. Doesn't that mean you've been around Linus your whole life? Isn't he, like, more of an uncle figure for you?"

I shrug.

"Not really. Apart from when Linus lived in Sydney when he was studying to be a vet, he and Dad have never lived in the same town and haven't really seen each other a lot. Theirs is more a long-distance friendship. It's not like we spent holidays and birthdays together."

Growing up, Dad and I moved around all over the country.

"I remember coming here to Scuttlebutt twice as a kid, but that's about it. I had a faint memory of Linus, but he was always more of a concept than someone I had a connection with."

"Until you started working here?"

"Correct. Although I'm still not sure if there even is a connection between us."

Dario wipes his forehead against the sleeve of his shirt.

"No, there is."

"How do you know?"

He adjusts the dial and slows down to a fast walk.

"A few things. One, he touches you when he doesn't need to. And two, when I asked if you could tag along with me, I had to give him a reason why. I said something about how you'd be a great instructor because of your amazing body. Let's just say, the guy couldn't form a coherent word after that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was cute and gross. And while neither of those two things prove you're star-crossed lovers, I definitely think he's at least physically attracted to you. That's a good start."

It sure fucking is.

This whole time I haven't been sure if Linus has been good to me—especially when I get drunk—because he's a nice guy and that's what nice guys do when idiots get shitfaced, or out of some sort of obligation to my dad to keep an eye out for me, or because I'm his employee and he needs me to show up to work the next day.

But if Dario thinks he's into me—even if it's just physically—then that's a very promising sign.

The treadmill starts beeping, indicating a sixty-second cooldown. I fetch Dario's water bottle from where he left it by the weights rack and hand it to him.

"Thanks."

He takes it from me, and our fingers touch, then he takes a few sips as his walk slows even more then finally comes to a stop. He steps off the machine, wipes it down, and then goes over to his bag. In one smooth motion, he takes off his sweat-drenched shirt. My eyes travel over his broad back as he starts patting himself dry with a towel. Even if he is a little heavier than normal, he's got nothing to worry about. Years of training have given him the physique and upside-down triangle proportions plenty of guys would kill to have. Wide shoulders, defined pecs, and the kind of arse rugby players have—big and meaty.

He's actually quite hot…which is a weird thing to think because I've never looked at him that way before. We've always just been friends, so why would I check him out?

I wonder if he's ready to put the whole Quade debacle behind him and move on? If he is, he's unfortunately out of luck. The gay dating pool in Scuttlebutt is limited, to say the least. Apart from Linus and myself, I don't know of any other single gay dudes.

I put the weights away, making sure to leave everything as we found it. We're getting ready to head out when two headlights streak through the gym.

"Look. It's Linus,"

I whisper, grabbing Dario by the arm.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't know,"

I whisper back, nerves rattling through my bones.

"I just… Yeah, I don't know."

"Okay. Firstly, relax. Linus is only a man?—"

"But what a man."

"Fine."

There's that slight jaw tightening thing again.

"He's an attractive guy."

Normally, this would be my jump-off point for listing all the things that draw me to Linus apart from just his good looks, but I'm getting the impression Dario might be starting to get over my sappy outpours.

"Just act normal. Be yourself,"

he instructs.

"And stop whispering."

"That doesn't help at all,"

I say at normal volume.

He cocks his head to the side. A few seconds later, I hear the same sound he does.

Footsteps.

Panic sweeps over me. Dario turns to look me square in the eyes, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"You've got this. Just pretend it's a work day, and we're at the clinic. Don't put any pressure on yourself, and you'll be fine."

I gulp hard and start nodding, not maniacally at all.

"Yeah. You're right. I've got this."

"You do."

He gives me a supportive squeeze.

"And if in doubt, be quiet. I can do the talking and fill in any potentially awkward silences."

"Yeah. You have a good mouth."

I realise what I said about two seconds later then clasp my hand over my mouth.

"Shit. I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant. Or didn't mean."

Dario smiles at me with soft eyes.

"All the more reason to err on the side of silence, right?"

"Hell yeah."

And with my newfound commitment to silence in place, Linus ducks under the roller door and strides in.

Linus

I'd been replaying the conversation I had with the nurse all the way back from the hospice, so it slipped my mind that Dario had asked if he and Ryde could come over today and use the gym.

When I step into the carport, I feel like I'm interrupting something. Dario has his hands on Ryde's shoulders, and Ryde seems…unsettled. For a second, it makes me wonder whether something is going on with them, if maybe they're more than just friends. But then why would everyone at the clinic have been giving me shit for the past two years about Ryde having a thing for me if he's with Dario? That doesn't make any sense.

I've tried to ignore the guys at work because not only would it be completely inappropriate for anything to happen between Ryde and myself, there's also the not-so-insignificant matter of Oakey's reaction to his best mate getting it on with his son. A double whammy shitstorm I've been doing my best to bypass.

But seeing Ryde and Dario together causes a twinge in my chest. It's not outright jealousy, although there's an element of that, it's…something else. Almost like a voyeuristic curiosity, which is puzzling because I can honestly say I've never experienced that before.

"Hey, Linus,"

Dario says, pulling away from Ryde and walking towards me.

"Thanks for letting us work out. You have an amazing setup here."

"It's really great,"

Ryde agrees, stepping up beside him.

They're standing so close they could easily hold hands if they wanted to. A sudden warmth floods my chest. Like I'd like that. I'd like to see them holding hands.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"It's no problem,"

I say, waving my hand casually. I could aim for a smile, but I don't think I have it in me after the news I've received.

"We're done and were just about to leave,"

Dario says.

I don't know if he intended it or not, but there's something about his tone that's lighter than anything I've heard from him so far, almost as if he's subtly hinting they'd like to stay?

No. I'm obviously imagining it. Why would these guys want to hang out with me? My exhaustion from working ten days straight is rolling off me in waves, and I must look worse than normal, still processing what the nurse told me: "Your father's Alzheimer's is advancing quicker than we hoped. We're shifting our focus to palliative care to ensure he remains as comfortable as possible in the coming…months."

She paused right before she said months, which makes me think it could just as easily be weeks.

My mind is still reeling from that, so whatever I think I'm picking up on with these guys is probably pity at best or most likely, nothing at all.

"Have you…?"

Dario starts then stops himself.

I glance at him.

"Have I what?"

He shifts his gaze back and forth between Ryde and myself several times, silently reading the room.

"Ryde makes an incredible grilled chicken salad. Have you had dinner yet?"

"I haven't."

I only managed a brekkie bar then downed half a cup of tea and some chips for lunch at the clinic before spending the afternoon with Dad.

"Great."

Dario claps his hands together with a smile like we've just arranged something. Have we? Did I black out for a moment? "We'll cook dinner for you."

"We?"

Ryde asks him, cocking a brow.

"Yeah. You'll cook. I'll set the table. It's called teamwork."

Dario looks my way.

"Come on. Let's have dinner together."

"Do I have any say in the matter?"

I ask as he pulls Ryde into him, and they stalk towards me.

"Nope."

Dario smiles right at me, sending a surge of warmth through my chest.

"All you have to do is sit and eat."

Half an hour later, I'm sitting, I'm eating, and I'm feeling better than I have in a very long time. The three of us are in Ryde's dining room, and just as Dario boasted, Ryde's grilled chicken salad is divine. I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me, and I have to admit, it feels nice.

From the moment we set foot in Ryde's house, they insisted I sit down and relax. Dario fixed drinks and set the table, while Ryde got to work on making dinner. I kept a close eye on them, watching for any signs of closeness that extended beyond friendship. There's been nothing as far as I can tell. No touching. No kisses. No lingering looks.

That hasn't stopped my mind from wandering further into unknown territory, imagining what they might look like together.

I mean, can you blame me?

Despite doing my best to avoid everyone's not-so-subtle digs about Ryde being into me, I'm human, and he is a gorgeous guy. I felt like a deer trapped in headlights when Dario casually asked if I'd noticed Ryde's killer body because, yes, I most certainly have.

My eyes drop to the black moisture-wicking fabric of Ryde's shirt and the way it hugs his toned frame. He's a good few centimetres shorter than me, but his body is lithe and lined with lean muscles. I look up and meet his curious gaze from across the table. His blue eyes, clear as ocean water, are framed by dark lashes that soften the sharp angles of his face, and his chestnut-brown mid-length hair is styled messily as always.

A pulse thrums in the air between us, and I clear my throat, shifting my attention to Dario. He's very attractive as well, but in a different way. Taller and broader than Ryde, he's got a handsome face with a nice tan, a prominent nose sprinkled with a few freckles, and light-hazel eyes that swirl with green and gold.

I swear I don't hire people based on their appearance, but I have somehow ended up with an obscenely handsome crew of vets. I sometimes jokingly wonder whether I should rebrand the clinic into a modelling agency. I'd make a shit ton more money that way, that's for sure.

"What are you thinking about?"

Dario asks, looking at me with a playful grin.

He's definitely the louder of the two, taking the lead in starting and steering conversations, with Ryde chipping in every once in a while. But he's not overpowering or too much, unlike one of my vets who flies in to help out at the clinic. Dario simply keeps things rolling and creates a nice atmosphere. In fact, this whole evening has been really pleasant and chilled.

"Nothing really."

He studies me, chewing slowly.

"If it's none of my business, please tell me, but you seemed a little uptight earlier. Is everything okay?"

He's bold. I'll give him that. Even the guys at the clinic, who I've known for years, wouldn't dare ask me about my personal life. But I guess that's the thing about him, he hasn't known me for years. He doesn't know how private I am, how I keep everything so close to my chest. I'm sure Ryde's had more interesting things to tell him about working here than how much of a closed-off bastard I am.

I could tell him to mind his own business—politely, of course—but for some strange reason, that seems like a less attractive option than maybe telling them a little about what's going on.

I take a long pull of my drink, letting the beer bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing.

"My old man's got advanced Alzheimer's,"

I say. This part I suspect Ryde may know since it's no secret.

"His nurse spoke with me today, and she gave me some bad news. After holding steady for a while, he's starting to deteriorate rapidly. They're talking months."

But it's more likely weeks.

"Oh my god, Linus."

Ryde's chair scrapes along the linoleum, as if his first reaction is to get up and give me a hug, but he quickly realises there's no way to do that since we're sitting around a table. I give him a nod anyway, appreciating the thought.

"I'm really sorry. This must be so hard on you,"

Dario says.

"It is what it is."

I raise my glass for another sip.

"I'm not the one going through it."

Dario's eyes dim, and his mouth turns down at the corners.

"My mum cared for Dad when he got an aggressive form of pancreatic cancer. Even though Dad was the one who was sick, believe me, they both went through it. In some ways, I think Mum might have even had it harder. Everyone was so focused on Dad, on what he needed, no one paid much attention to the toll it took on her."

"You did,"

Ryde says, comforting him.

"You were there for both of them."

"I tried to be."

He smiles sadly at Ryde then turns back to me.

"Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is, who's supporting you, Linus?"

"I… I…"

His question throws me. It's never even crossed my mind to look for support. My mum died when I was young. I'm an only child. And the only thing I've ever had resembling a relationship was long-distance and a very long time ago. I've always been self-reliant because I've never had any other choice.

"I'm fine,"

I tell them both, not liking the turn this conversation has taken.

"Dinner was great. Thank you both. I should get going."

As I stand, I'm glad I insisted on taking my own car. Having one of them drive me back would have been uncomfortable as all heck.

I regret saying anything now. I don't want anyone's pity. There are plenty of people in the world who have it much tougher than me. I'll get through this. I've got the clinic and…well, I've got the clinic.

There's a palpable awkwardness hanging in the air as they walk me out.

"Again, dinner was wonderful. Thank you,"

I say when we're out on the front veranda.

"And I'm glad you enjoyed the gym. Feel free to use it whenever you like. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Yeah. See ya,"

Ryde says.

I hate his deflated tone, but I've revealed too much. I feel silly. Exposed. I need to get out of here. Dario gives me a tepid wave, and then I bound down the steps and make a beeline for my car, my pace quickening with every step.