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Rhett felt a wave of guilt, followed by fatigue. Just the thought of hanging out in a noisy bar made him want to burrow under the covers. “I’m a busy man.” He faked a casual voice. “You know where I’m at.”
“Hey, I’m a busy man, too.” Sean beat his chest with a grin. “People will steal anything that’s not nailed down. Money, groceries...dogs.”
“Dogs?” Rhett laughed. “Now that’s a good story, I bet.”
“Had this woman in today. Works with rescues and service dogs. In fact, I’ve got the contact info. You might be interested.” Sean’s voice trailed off as his gaze went from the spot Rhett kept working on his quad, to his gym bag, now on the floor by his feet. “Eh, never mind.” Sean waved a hand. “We’ll talk about it later. I’m going to go get warmed up.”
“Good idea.” Rhett kneeled down, against the wall, and did the couch stretch for his bad leg. Sometimes it helped. At least for a little while. As he leaned there, breathing deeply into the pit of his stomach and exhaling slowly against the pain, he realized he was both glad and uncomfortable that Sean was here. He’d missed his best buddy and USMC brother, there was no denying that. But Sean was also the only person that could see right through him. Rhett got away with exactly zero bullshit with Sean Callahan, and the same was true the other way around.
“C’mon, Santos!” Sean called from across the gym. “Quit babying your leg and get over here.”
Rhett rose up with a groan and laughed. Yeah, it was good to have Sean back. But his leg still hurt like a son of a bitch. Time to see how well he could hide it.
