He nodded, thinking he probably could use a bit of relaxing nature himself. He wondered when the last time was that he was outside long enough to notice it, let alone appreciate it. Standing on the medical tarmac of the hospital’s roof waiting for a helicopter to land didn’t count.
“Anyway,” Lawson shifted. “I, uh, just wanted to see if I can do anything to help?”
“You already did. And it’s nothing to be concerned about, all right? Just a frozen shoulder. I’m working on it withmydoctor.” He lied, not really caring.He didn’t have a doctor helping him with his damn shoulder because he didn’t want to be told what it meant.
That he was old. That he needed to slow down. Retire. Maybe see a therapist, which he was doing today, and he hoped like hell that didn’t make him an idiot.
Lawson’s eyes narrowed, taking in the information, “Frozen shoulder? For how long?”
John hesitated, face pinched in mild disapproval of the question.
Lawson’s chin tilted back in sudden understanding that he had overstepped the line again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
John cut him off by dropping a firm hand on Lawson’s shoulder, squeezing, “It’s fine. You’re allowed to be concerned. But know I’ve got it handled, all right?” John noticed the hard muscle beneath Lawson’s scrubs, which he had no right to be noticing, and quickly snatched his hand back. “It’s time to get outta here anyway. Go ahead and head to the nurses' station for a debrief.”
“Okay,” Lawson said, eyes flickering over him once more before sliding away.
John took another sip, letting his second glass of whiskey at the hotel bar soothe his frustration. He knew he was a bit old-school in refusing to show any vulnerability at work. This job took everything from the doctors, staff, and nurses. And he wasn’t going to make anyone else’s job harder because he was struggling.
He supposed Lawson was trying to be nice, but still, it drew unnecessary attention to him. He had to maintain composure when everyone else broke down or when chaos ensued, as it did nearly daily in his job. It was his duty to be unflappable and maintain course.
So then why did he feel so lost?
Why was his shoulder getting worse, not better?
And how come this aching hole swirled in his chest that he couldn’t seem to fucking shake?
Maybe he needed to escape to Lawson’s dad’s dude ranch for a long weekend and get lost on a trail with a horse. He snorted. Justine, his sister, would keelover in shock if she saw him on a horse. They were city kids, with no concept of animals outside the dead ones on their plates. Their parents wouldn’t even allow them a family dog growing up.
Maybe I could get a dog? Right—and when would I have time to take care of a dog?
John glanced at his phone, noticing an unread text message. He stilled, disappointment already rising in his chest. He knew what this meant. He recognized the number with no name and opened it.
I’m really sorry. I can’t make it tonight. Working a double…
Fuck.
John stared numbly at the text message.
This was supposed to be the night he’d been leading up to with Ben. It had been his night to let go of the control he held so firmly on his life, to find release and pleasure in someone else—to not give to anyone or anything—just take.
Take everything.
Greedily, hungrily, desperately.
His throat clenched and he clicked the screen off, tossing the phone onto the hard marble bar top, his frustration peaking.
Heneededthis tonight.
He needed to forget about the pain in his shoulder, to forget about these past few months, and feel the weight of a muscled, toned body pressing him down into his hotel bed, pounding into him with the sweet, tantalizing feeling of an orgasm pulsating through every fiber of his being. He needed for one goddamned second not to feel so alone.
John was supposed to be everyone else’s container, and that meant he couldn’t break—he couldn’t lose his shit.
Hold it together.
Push through.
Don’t show them how weak you fucking are…
