Confessions of a Wild Heart (31 page)

           Ase scowled. “He’s been either in the Army or a cop the entire time I’ve known him.”

           “Small town deputy and city cop for a town this size are two very different things.”

           She had Ase there.

           “I think, just like everything else, it’ll be part of getting used to each other,” he said.

           “How very adult of you, Ase.”

           “I’m always very adult.” He stuck out his tongue.

           “Clearly.”

           One thing he’d liked about Dr. Moriah from the start, she was funny. She didn’t let him feel sorry for himself. She hadn’t pretended to absolve him of his guilt over his reaction to the stillbirth of his son, but she had helped him understand his detachment was not an unprecedented reaction.

           There had been times when that hadn’t been enough, and he still thought, no matter what a son of a bitch he’d always been, something had to be wired wrong. But then she’d reminded him, he felt guilt. That helped him feel more human, but it’d led to him feeling, for the first time, legitimately wronged. He’d felt that overwhelming shame of a victim, and he’d hated it. Jase had come to see him, and he’d turned him away for two days until Jase had forced his way in and held him. Just. Held him.

           He couldn’t remember his own mother ever just holding him.

           But he didn’t like to dwell on those things any more.

           He knew some of what he did was compartmentalizing, but this was a good weekend. He was doing better. “Oh, I heard from the attorney who’s robbing me blind.”

           “Divorce going through?” she asked, not missing a beat as she scribbled notes on her pad. He almost laughed at her dry tone, the acknowledgment she knew exactly what he was talking about.

           “We still have thirty days, but she’s being cool about it.” So far as what the attorneys were saying.

           Jase hadn’t spoken to Lizeth, not one more time. Never would again if he could help it. From what he heard through one of the furious voice mails he’d gotten from Mateo, her legal status was, in fact, in dire straits, what with the divorce and all. He’d deleted the message.

           He had friends here, a life. He had a job he liked. But most importantly, Ase was feeling comfortable in his own skin, slowly but surely, for the first time, maybe ever.

           “I think—I know I’m ready for this step.” Ase heard the steel in his voice. Dr. Moriah’s eyes flashed when she looked at him, something like pride. He’d choose to think that’s what it was, anyway.

           “Excellent.”

           “Excellent.” He teased her. She always responded with that damn word.

           “
Ay
, someone is sassy today,” she said, cocking her head playfully. She shut her notebook. “Session’s over.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her feet in the chair. “So. I think you’re ready to go to once a month.”

Ase blinked. “Really?” He’d started at twice a week for the first five or so weeks, then only once a week. Once a month, though?

“You think not?” she asked.

Ase thought back over all their sessions, how he felt now versus then. He wasn’t magically healed or anything. But… he was definitely more himself. He took anti-anxiety meds. Even when they made his dick faulty.
Fuckers.
And the fact he took that with so much grace should speak volumes for how much better he was doing, he thought wryly.

“No. I think so. We’ll see if I can’t survive in the real world without your nosy ass poking around every week.”

She glared playfully. “Get out. Before I tell the office to keep charging you weekly anyway.”

“
Si, se
ñ
ora.”
His accent was cartoonish. And she mentioned billing him double when he bowed to her. Eh, what could he say? He was in a good mood. That required he spread the joy via being a total ass to someone. She was the lucky one today. Though, the good doc was totally used to it by now.

Ase waved goodbye to the receptionist, Romeo, who batted flirty eyes at him. Ase blew him a kiss. It was their usual game. But today, it just felt different. A little better.

When he walked out into the parking lot and slung his jacket on, he grimaced at the thought of riding in the cold. It’d stayed unseasonably—or so people kept saying—hot until right up to January. Thankfully it wasn’t freezing or anything, but it’d definitely gotten colder than it would’ve been in California that time of year.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, grinning to see a picture message from Jase.

Jase had been great. For all that he complimented Ase on his strides over the last year, so had Jase made some of his own. He’d come out to his mom and rolled with the punches. He’d actually told his boss in San Antonio about Ase before he’d transferred officially. You could have knocked Ase over with a feather when Jase had told him that.

Ase’s phone buzzed again, another picture. Jase was putting something together in his apartment and making a stupid face. Only, who was… Ase scowled and fired off a text in response before jumping on his bike.

A response of
Why, jealous?
made Ase chuckle. The little fucker got mouthy when he wanted something, and obviously, he was looking for some attention. He’d get plenty of that tonight. But Ase would’ve given him that anyway. He’d probably give Jase anything. Firing old Matilda II up, he left the parking lot into traffic and pointed her toward work.

This was it. The new chapter he’d really been waiting for. He didn’t think he was perfect, but he was ready. Damn ready.

****

Who’s the muscle queen?
Ase’s response made Jase guffaw. When his buddy Ryan read it over Jase’s shoulder he gave an offended, “Hey!”

“He doesn’t mean it.” Jase placated the man. No. Ase was jealous. Which perversely made Jase giddy. Sometimes Ase was so remote, it could be hard to tell where you stood. After so many months of raw, open vulnerability, when Ase had found his shell again, he’d engaged his armor more often than not. But some could be both of the effects, for both of them, of the strain of their long-distance situation.

But slowly he’d really started becoming something, man. Still a jackass. But Jase enjoyed Ase’s coming back to… being Ase.

And the jealousy thing was one of those things where Ase still occasionally showed he was dialed in. Jase didn’t do it on purpose. Especially this time. Hell, he needed Ase to get along with Ryan. Ryan had been a friend in the service, gotten him on with SAPD. Ryan had also taken Jase to his first gay bar in San Antonio after he’d broken it off with Lacey.

So yes, Ryan would be around. Though, he and Ase’d talked about it a lot. The melding of their friends. Jase’s butch cop buddies—even the gay ones—and Ase’s “girls” from the club. Jase had actually been excited about the prospect. Jase really liked the few of Ase’s co-workers he’d met. And they seemed to be good for Ase.

And gods, Jase was so happy to be around his friends who were out, whom he wasn’t raised with. Ryan, his brother in arms at one point, Derek and Lucy, who were friends of the non-fuck-buddy persuasion. Then there was Rory who
had
been a fuck buddy, but as much as Jase shrugged off letting Dustin tag along on some weekends to go clubbing with them, Ase could damn well deal with one old fling.

He hoped.

“Hey, you ready to get going? Your boy starts his shift soon, right?” Ryan called from the other room.

Jase looked at the time on his phone. “Shit. Yes. Let me go change, and I’ll be right out.”

Ryan and a couple of their friends had finished moving Jase’s things in the day before, but Ryan had come and helped him unpack everything today. He was grateful for the help. That meant tonight, no staying in Ase’s cramped-ass studio like they had been for months. Ase hadn’t been back to Hope Springs because he had to work on the weekends so often.

So they’d spent every weekend Jase came down, which was almost every second weekend for the last four months, on Ase’s futon.

Tonight, though, they had Jase’s queen size and the big loft in downtown San Antonio—one of the new renovation jobs that had popped up in the last few years. Jase wasn’t sure where he wanted them to christen first. Just thinking about it got him hard.

As he pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it, his phone started vibrating. His mama. What was it he was thinking about being hard?
Scratch that
.

“Hey, Mama.”

“You didn’t call me to let me know you made it yesterday.”

“We got here after you’d have been in bed and got everything unloaded. I barely got them all fed some pizza and out the door before I fell asleep on ‘em.”

Please don’t say…
“Well, if you’d—”

“Stayed home. I know.”

She wasn’t happy. She’d spent the better part of the last three weeks, as he searched for apartments online and had Ase doing leg work, trying to convince him to stay.
“You’re more likely to find a nice girl here.”
Oh, yeah. That was still an ongoing battle.
“I get it. You like both. But, you gotta grow up and settle down eventually.”
She was hung up on something she’d read about bisexual men who played with men, but had families with women. Jase still hadn’t thanked whoever it was who’d e-mailed her that link.

“Mama, I’m running late. Everything okay?”

“Fine, fine. Going to your brother’s in a bit. They made a dinner. Since next week’s my birthday and all.”

           “Mama,” he said, warning. He had to start his transfer this week, so they’d celebrated her birthday early. He’d paid for a nice dinner at that Chance Beckett guy’s steakhouse. She’d enjoyed it, even if she chose to act like she didn’t, now. He couldn’t help smiling fondly in the phone. “I really have to go. I promise I’ll give you a call after church tomorrow.”

           “Oh, are you going? You have one there?”

           “Mama,” he said, impatiently.

           “Okay, okay.” They said their I-love-yous and he slid into a pair of boots.

           After gathering his wallet and keys he made his way out. Ryan whistled when he came out of his room. “Look at you, all gussied up for your feller.”

           “Good Lord, you and Ase are either gonna get on too well or fuckin’ hate each other.” They were a lot alike. Only, like Jase, Ryan was built thick, maybe a bit more stout, rather than tall and lean.

           “Can we go?” Jase asked, impatiently. He was damned ready to see his man. Two weeks too fucking long, and then Ase’s shift last night and appointment with his counselor today, and
now
everyone conspiring to hold Jase up on the way to the damn bar. He thought his head might explode.

           “Alright, keep your britches on.”

           Jase looked at Ryan evenly. He should really give this guy Dustin’s number. Er, or not because he didn’t want Ase’s old fuck buddy around that much. But damn they’d be good together.

           “No,” Jase said, pushing Ryan out the door, even as the man buttoned his shirt. It was Jase, though, who paused for one more second when his eyes caught the two framed photos sitting by themselves on the top shelf of his book case. One was the old photo, the one they’d both kept themselves from looking at for years because it hurt to see their happy young faces. Er, well, Jase’s was sleeping, lying on Ase’s chest, but it was happy underneath.

           The second photo was newer, taken of them in the ghost town. It was kind of magical. Ase’d caught Jase basking in the sun in the middle of the ivy-covered wonderland, and stopped to smile into the camera. They weren’t touching but even Jase, thick as he knew he could be, could see how at peace they were in their own little world, just the two of them.

           He shook himself out of his reverie when headlights to Ryan’s truck shone in his face. After locking his door and making his way to the cab of the truck, he flipped Ryan the bird at the pointed stare he was getting.

           Ryan laughed at Jase the whole way to the club, his knee bouncing the entire twenty-minute ride. He felt like that night in Munich, watching the lights of the city go by, the changing landscape from downtown to suburb. Finally, they made it to the bar, and Jase had to stop himself from acting like a damn fool, though it was probably too late for that.

           When he pushed through the front doors, the live music assaulted him. As did the smell of fajitas. And damn, now he was hungry, too.

The bar was set up on one side, with several tables and booths scattered around throughout the large room, looking much like any other Mexican or Tex-Mex bar and grill in town. The restaurant was divided by a stage. On weekend nights they boasted one of the best drag shows in town, according to the website. Other nights there was karaoke, Drag Bingo, and speed dating, a full assortment of random shit Jase would probably never partake of. But Ase liked that shit for the tips, apparently.

Since it was a Friday, lighting that wasn’t neon or black light were nearly non-existent. The “live music” was actually a DJ playing random top forty songs. Just as a familiar pop diva started singing about lace and leather, the hostess greeted them. When she saw who she was talking to, though, she squealed.

“
Papi chulo
,” Jasmine said. She was a loud personality, and Jase had taken a shine to her immediately. When not hostessing, Jasmine—known in the daylight hours as Miguel Martin—was a riding instructor at a country club. Jase and Jasmine talked horses and hit it off immediately, much to Ase’s surprise, which still kinda hurt Jase’s feelings but made him realize how much work he had to do to prove he’d changed his thinking.

He was getting there, and he really did like embracing a side of himself that just didn’t give two shits.

“Hey, Jaz,” he said, getting a mouthful of wig as he hugged Jasmine. Then unceremoniously was pushed away.

“And who’s your friend,
papi
?”

“Oh, that’s Ryan.”

Ryan kissed Jasmine’s knuckles and gave a silly wink. Jase rolled his eyes. “If y’all are gonna play goo-goo eyes….”