Page 44 of Everything Changes

He’d just gotten done talking to a former Marine and her husband. She had lost her right arm and right leg in Afghanistan and was having a difficult time being intimate with her husband, afraid he didn’t see her as beautiful anymore. The intense professional therapy and marriage counseling sessions at the ranch had already worked wonders in a few days, opening up the lines of communication and making it easier to get things out in a safe, neutral environment.

Carey provided the icing on the cake, so to speak, talking with the two of them about the continued realities of life as an amputee, letting her express her fears and frustrations to someone who could understand as no one else could. It appeared the couple’s marriage was finally on the right track to healing, and once again it brought home to Carey how important his work was and how fulfilled he was by it. He’d made the right decision in leaving Jase and coming home, home to where he was needed by so many. It wasn’t about being selfish; it was about what he needed to do for others.

But he missed Jase fiercely, with an intensity that he’d never experienced before. If Carey wasn’t working, he was thinking of Jase. Thinking of talking with him, laughing with him, making love with him. There was nothing about Jase that Carey didn’t miss, and it was a low, constant ache. He and Jase talked on the phone a couple of times a week, texted almost daily, but it didn’t ease the pain much. In fact it honestly made it worse since they’d fallen more or less into a routine of keeping it light, talking about their work, their friends, superficial things. Carey missed Jase, the intimacy and closeness they’d carefully built over the last few years. But now it was all about self-preservation. It hurt too much to be so close. They had to impose some sort of distance or they couldn’t move on.

Carey’s phone rang, and he looked down at it, reading the caller ID with some surprise.

“Hey, Layla,” he answered. “Is everything okay?”

“Why does everyone always think something’s wrong when I call them? Can’t I just call a friend to say hi?” Carey smiled at the exasperation in Layla’s voice.

“That’s because you never call people just to say hi,” he teased. “You always have an agenda.”

“Do not,” she grumbled. “Well, okay, I do. Usually. What can I say, I’m not a phone chitchat sort of person.”

Carey smiled again, enjoying the banter. He knew nothing was seriously wrong or she would have come straight to the point.

“So what’s up, Red?” he asked, sitting down at one of the conference table chairs and getting comfortable. His next counseling session wasn’t for fifteen minutes, so he had the time to spare.

“How are you doing, Carey?”

“Fine,” he answered slowly. “How are you?”

“Oh, not bad. Can’t complain.”

“This is getting dangerously into chitchat territory here, Layla,” he said cautiously.

“Okay, fine. I’m worried about Jase.” Carey sat up straight at those words, his mind going to scenarios of Jase flashing back on stage, panic attacks….

“Is he going to counseling? He promised me he would—”

“I’m sorry, Carey, yes, he’s going to counseling. He’s doing great with that. I just meant I’m worried about him emotionally. He’s hurting, Carey.”

Carey blew out a breath. “I know he is, Layla. So am I.”

“I don’t understand why, Carey. I hate seeing him like this. And before you say it’s none of my business—” Carey bit his tongue on those very words, his lips clamping shut. “—let me just say that, as Jase’s manager, everything about him is my business.”

“Is the band suffering?” Carey felt a wave of guilt at that. He’d comforted himself with the thought that Jase’s work would help him get through it, just like his own was doing.

“Not the music, no. In fact, he’s on fire, some of the songs he’s been writing have been breaking my fucking heart, they’re so good. But Carey… Jayden has been sniffing around again and—”

Carey felt a wave of pain go through him, pain so sharp and stabbing it took his breath away for a minute. He remembered that first night when he’d arrived in San Diego, standing in the doorway of that back room at the club after the concert, seeing Jase’s hand on the blond man’s hip, their lips teasing each other’s. Oh God.

His voice was hoarse when he was finally able to speak. “I never asked him to put his life on hold, Layla. I—”

“Jayden is not what he wants,” Layla said fiercely. “But Carey, I think he’s been waiting for you to change your mind and—he’s starting to lose hope.”

Carey felt anger replace the pain. “It’s only been a fucking month, Layla, and he agreed to give me time. Did he ask you to call and try to manipulate me? Because so help me—”

“No!” Her voice was sharp. “You know better than that, Carey. Don’t be an asshole. This is all my idea. You and I have never talked about this, and I just—I wanted you to know that you two have the support of everyone in the band. If it’s about coming out, worrying about what we might think, don’t. You two belong together and everyone knows it.”

“It’s not about that, Layla, though I appreciate it.” Carey sighed. “It’s about being at different places in our lives, and about putting others’ needs ahead of my own.”

“And Jase’s needs?” Layla said quietly. “Jase needs you.”

“He’ll always have me,” Carey said, his voice equally as quiet. “I will always be his friend. He’ll never lose that.”

Layla blew out a breath. “Okay, Carey. I’ve said what I needed to say. Just one more thing: you don’t know how lucky you are to have fallen in love with your best friend. I’ve always said that the best kind of love is friendship that has caught fire. It’s rare, Carey, and I don’t want either one of you to let that slip through your fingers. Just think about it, okay? Promise me you’ll just think about it before you throw the love of your life back to the Jaydens of this world. See ya, babe.”