Code Blue (Atrous, #2)

by N.R. Walker

Riko smirked. “Your people skills are awesome. You’ll have to teach me how you do that thing with your eyes.” “What thing?” “How to make people crap themselves with just a look.” I smiled. “It’s a skill.” “It’s a ‘I will fuck you up, don’t try me’ skill.” “Exactly.” I nodded to the elevator. “Let’s go find Jeremy.”

“What am I supposed to do for food?” “We can order in. I can have one of my team go pick it up. I’d rather we didn’t have a trail of different delivery people turning up to your place every day. Or we can have groceries delivered.” “I don’t cook.” He shook his head. “I mean, I used to. But I hate it, and I was never good at it. Just ask the guys.” “I’ve seen your grilling skills. Remember that week we spent in Vermont at Roscoe’s uncle’s farm?” His mouth fell open. “Hey. I grilled that meat just fine.” “You charcoaled it so much I considered sending it for carbon dating.”

“Nooo. What the hell is Arlo doing not providing adequate arrangements?” “He does,” I said. “We always have adequate hotel rooms, but sometimes we work longer than usual and we need to get some sleep where and when we can.” “Well, it’s still bullshit. And you,” Jeremy said to Riko. “Letting the old man sleep on the floor. Jeez.” Riko fought a smile and I gave Jeremy a flat stare. “I’m not an old man. And as team leader, it’s my job to look after them.” “You look after them. You look after us,” Jeremy said. “Who looks after you?” No one.

“Whatcha doing in here anyway?” “This is my office.” He looked around. “I’ve never been in here.” Then he frowned. “It’s kinda small.” “Has no one told you size doesn’t matter?” Christ. Why was I nervous about him being in my space? Jeremy burst out laughing and put his hand to his chest. “No one has told me that, Steve. Anyone told you that?” “Uh, no. Sorry, that just came out.” I pretended I wasn’t embarrassed. “And anyway, I don’t need a big office, and I don’t care about the view.”

Jeremy came up between us and shoved Maddox away. “He’s my Steve. You get your own Steve.” He linked his arm with mine like Maddox had done. “And I fucking hate tofu.” He’s my Steve.

“Okay, so if someone comes at you from the front, you need to assess a few things first. One, are they armed? Two, what kind of weapon is it? Three, check your surroundings. Four—” His eyes narrowed. “How long do I have to do all that? Like a few minutes?” “Well, if you’re being attacked by a sloth, maybe.” Riko laughed. I ignored him. “You have half a second, maybe.” “Oh, okay, yeah no. I can’t do that.” “You need to learn.” “No, that’s what I have you for. I have my very own Steve for that exact reason.”

I had to swallow the lump in my throat. “You know when you miss something you never had? When you feel like you’ve lost something you can’t explain?” Jeremy’s eyes met mine. “That’s what that music feels like.” He gasped out a breath. His eyes were glassy. Christ, was he about to cry? “Steve.” Then he shook his head and laughed at himself. “That’s exactly what it is. How did you know to say that? I thought you were going to say it was nice or lovely.” “Jeremy, I’ve been with you guys now for a lot of years. I know when you like the songs you sing. Some songs, some music you sing, you perform, and you do it perfectly. But then there are some songs that you love, that you feel, and it shows.” He stared at me, his eyes darting between mine, like he was trying to tell if I was serious or not. “And you feel this song.” He quickly turned back to the keys, as if looking at me was too much. “I do.” “What’s it called?” “It doesn’t have a name,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to call it.” “Well, thank you for playing it for me.”

I grabbed his shirt and his eyes flashed with something that wasn’t fear. He tried to push my hand away and down, but he stepped in too close and I instinctively palmed his chest to stop him from falling into me. And that was when Riko and Agent Zielinski came out through the door. Jeremy gripped my waist and leaned into me, very deliberately, while looking at Zielinski. Jesus Christ. That was a blatant territorial move. He was jealous. Jeremy Dalton just marked me in front of another guy. What. The. Actual. Fuck?

“What did the doctor say?” “That I’m an idiot.” I smiled at him. “Pretty sure she didn’t say that.” “Yep. It’s in my file and everything.” “I see they gave you a bit of a haircut.” He frowned. “Maddox took a photo and showed me.” He let his head roll to the side so he could see me better. “Am I still pretty?” I looked him right in the eye, and even though my stomach swooped and my heart squeezed, I told him the honest truth. “Jeremy, you’re so much more than pretty. You’re so much more.”

He slowed the kiss, ending it by pulling my bottom lip in between his. “I could kiss you all day,” he said dreamily. But then he peeled himself off me and stood up. He extended his hand. “Come with me.” Then he stopped. “Oh. You already did.” I burst out laughing. Gawd. “I meant come this way . . . or let’s go this way.” He laughed. “Though I’m down for more coming. It’s the best hangover cure.”

“Jeez, Jer, you could at least put a shirt on. Are you lying on your bed in your underwear? Christ, poor Steve. What would he say if he walked in on you right now?” Oh hell . . . Jeremy laughed and aimed the camera at me. “Dunno. Ask him.” Maddox dropped his phone.

“You,” he said. “I haven’t begun your inquisition yet. First question, was that shirt sprayed on?” Jeremy chuckled. “Leave him alone. I made him wear it.” “Because it was tight?” “It was a contributing factor.” Maddox laughed. “God, you sure you’re not gay?” Jeremy shot him a look. Maddox put his hand up. “Sorry. He’s not gay or homosexual. He’s not bisexual. He’s Steve-sexual.”

“Yeah, leave me alone,” Jeremy said. Then, to my surprise, he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me close and laid his head on my collarbone. I put one arm around him, not sure just how much I should hold him. He clearly needed the contact. “Say something smart now, dickbag,” Jeremy mumbled. “I fucking dare ya.” He lifted his head and smirked at his best friend. “I have a Steve. He knows six kinds of martial arts, so please, go right ahead and piss him off.” Maddox replied with a laugh and a slap on my shoulder. “You’re so cute together. Love to see it. But,” he added, “I do have questions that are non-shirt related.” Roscoe came into the kitchen and took Maddox’s arm. “We’re leaving.”

“If they can find the person,” he replied. “Or maybe she’s gone off-grid and not even the FBI can find her.” “They will find her.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry if I’m overreacting or freaking you out. I don’t mean to. I just need to be thorough.” He stared at me for a long moment. “Because you’re not taking chances. Not when it comes to me.” He hadn’t missed me saying that just now. “Absolutely not. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Jeremy almost smiled. “I can’t decide if that’s sweet, hot, or a little bit creepy.” I laughed, incredulous. “Since when is taking a bullet for someone creepy?” “A bullet? Jesus.” Now he really stared at me. “Would you take a bullet for me, Steve?” I looked him right in the eye. “Yes. If it was life or death, yes I would.” “You answered that so easily.” “If I hesitate, you could die.”

“What makes you think I’ll be sleeping in your bed?” “Because . . .” He pouted. “Because I like it? Please?” “And if you do wake up straight-and-horrified that I’m in your bed, what then?” “You mean if I wake up tomorrow and I’m no longer a Steve-sexual?”

“What did you do yesterday? Delayed reactions are not uncommon. Training, choreo, anything vigorous?” Oh no. Jeremy glanced at me before he smiled at Hardwick. “Uh. I had a lot of physical gratification yesterday . . .” I wanted to die. Maddox snorted. Hardwick sighed. “How much?” “Four times.” “Four times?” Maddox cried. He stared at me, his mouth open. “I said small steps.”

“Everything is shit right now. Everything but you. I don’t get it, and I’ve stopped trying to understand. You make me feel things . . . I don’t even know how to make sense of it. I just want to be with you.” Oh my god. “I just want to be with you too. You make me feel things too. Things I haven’t felt in a long time. Things I never thought I’d feel again.” He nodded but his face crumpled and a tear escaped. “Jer,” I whispered. “You okay?” He shook his head and more tears fell. “I told Maddox I want out. Of the band. I’m done.”

“I’m staying with him,” Maddox declared. The doctor paused. “Oh, uh . . .” Roscoe tried. “Maddox . . .” Maddox shot him the perfectly arched eyebrow and Roscoe promptly shut up. “We normally only allow the parents of younger patients to sleep in the rooms,” she added. “He can be my son,” Maddox said, then turned to Jeremy. “You can call me daddy.”

“I’ve missed you,” he said quietly. “Which is stupid and ridiculous, and I blame you for that.” I grinned. “I’ve missed you too. And that is one hundred percent your fault.” “Maddox is dying for his phone back.” “Yeah, okay. How will I know what time to get you? We still don’t have phones.” “I’ll send up a Bat-Signal. And by Bat-Signal, I mean Roscoe. I like not having a phone. Sucks that I can’t call you though.” I smiled. Or was still smiling. I wasn’t sure. I tried to hide my smile from Roscoe. It was embarrassing enough. “True. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Oh, you gonna sleep with the cardboard cutout in your bed tonight? It’s life-size, but the dick is only two dimensional—” “Goodnight, Jeremy.”

I went up to my apartment, flipped the lights on, and almost had a coronary at Jeremy’s cardboard cutout standing in my living room. I almost took its head off, then laughed at myself, feeling the buzz of three beers. “That’s why you’re not coming to my bedroom.”

First stop was seeing Riko in the hospital. I’d suggested Jeremy wear a disguise or something, but he’d just grinned at me and said, “I don’t need a disguise. I have a Steve.”

“Ah, about that, Mom.” Oh my god. “Steve is technically my bodyguard, I guess.” The corner of his lip pulled down. “But he’s more than that. He’s my . . . we haven’t really agreed on a term for it yet. The word boyfriend was used once. Lover is just gross. Special friend makes it sound like he licks the windows.”

“Who do you think will be next?” I asked. “Next for what?” “Next to get married. Weddings usually have that effect. I think Wes will ask Amy soon. Surprised he hasn’t already.” He looked around at the other couples, all dancing, and he seemed to ponder for a while. Then he looked at me, his blue eyes like azure galaxies. “I think it’ll be us.” I laughed, because what? He smiled and kissed me. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” What the actual . . . “Pretty sure I didn’t ask.” He cupped his hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over that awesome marriage proposal.” I laughed again, because . . . what the hell just happened?