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Nodding, Angela said, “Do you like it?”
Jason pondered that question. “I like it with Abe. I’m not sure if it’d work for me with someone else, but the two of us…. We fit really well together.” He tried to think of words Angela would understand. “I’m insanely attracted to him. I like being around him. He makes me feel good. And he puts up with my bullshit without being a doormat.”
Angela raised her glass in a silent toast. “More power to him. Living with a doctor is hard enough. A surgeon’s even worse. With you it’s—” She shuddered and shook her head.
“You’re insulting me again,” Jason pointed out. “And he doesn’t live with me.”
She smirked.
Ignoring her, the clothes that occupied previously empty portions of his closet, and Abe’s toiletries in his bathroom, he said, “Anyway, it’s good with him. Really good.” He grinned at Angela and waggled his eyebrows. “And the sex is off the fucking charts.”
“Really?” She leaned forward. “Tell me everything. I haven’t gotten any in way too long.”
“Why not?” he asked. “You’re gorgeous. You’re smart. And you’re not living with a gay guy who sucks in the sack anymore.”
“You didn’t suck.”
Jason looked at her levelly.
“Okay, fine. The sex was horrible. I thought you were allergic to foreplay and suffered from ED before I realized what was really going on. Seriously, who’s ever heard of a guy saying he’s too tired or has a headache? And how did you get through human anatomy without having a clue about where to find my—”
“Point made.” Jason held up his hand in a “stop” motion. “You don’t need to list all my shortcomings and destroy my fragile ego.”
“Your ego is the last thing from fragile, but whatever. I don’t care.” She rubbed her palms together. “Give me dirt.”
“This is a little pathetic,” Jason said. “You need to get laid.”
“I have two children, a busy job, and no desire to spend my life catering to another man.”
“You don’t have to spend your life doing anything. I’m talking about sex, not getting married. Go out, get drunk, and find someone to screw.”
“I’m not the bar-hopping, bed-hopping type.” She scrunched her nose and apologetically said, “No offense.”
“None taken.” Both because he didn’t think there was anything wrong with bar hopping or bed hopping and because he no longer did either. “Fine. If you want details, I’ll give you details. At the very least, I can improve my reputation as a bad lay.”
“Sure. If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” she said animatedly. “Now spill.”
Chapter 12
“HI.” ABE glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Jason before turning back to the grill pan in front of him. “How was your day?”
“My day was good.” Jason walked over to Abe, caressed his backside, and then kissed his neck while he rubbed his hip. “Work was work.” Jason pressed his face into Abe’s hair, inhaled deeply, and then sighed contentedly before stepping away. “I had lunch with Angela.”
That got Abe’s attention. “Did you talk about Donny? Do you know what’s going on with him?”
“We did and I don’t.” Jason scratched the back of his head and opened the refrigerator. “Do you want a beer?”
“I’m good with water.” Abe tilted his chin toward the glass next to him.
“Okay.” Jason picked up a beer bottle, twisted the cap off, and closed the refrigerator with his hip. “Angela said she’s noticed Donny’s anger issues, but he won’t go to therapy and she doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.” He walked to the tall stainless-steel trash can, stepped on the foot pedal, and flipped the bottle cap inside. “She seemed exhausted.”
Abe nodded, chewed on his lip, and knit his eyebrows in thought. He had to tread carefully around this subject, but he couldn’t ignore it. He’d seen too many students make bad choices that led to more bad choices that led to destroyed lives. He wouldn’t let that happen to Jason’s family.
“I’ve never met your son and I hope I’m not overstepping.” Abe scratched his calf with his socked foot, picked the chicken breasts up with the tongs, and flipped them over. “But that doesn’t sound good and I’m worried it’s going to get worse.”
“So am I.” Jason dragged one hand through his black hair, tilted his bottle against his lips, and swallowed down amber liquid. “What kind of help do you need with dinner?” he asked as he flicked his gaze around the kitchen.
“Nothing. I put one of those bagged salads together.” He tilted his head toward a bowl on the peninsula. “And made rice pilaf.” He pointed his chin toward a saucepan on the stove. “The chicken’s done, so I just need to plate everything.” When Jason headed toward the cabinet with the dishes, Abe said, “I’ll take care of it. You’ve had a rough day. Go sit down.” He flipped off the burner and had started moving toward the cabinet when he met Jason’s gaze.
