Savaro's Honey Buns (9 page)

Savaro nodded.

"My childhood wasn't perfect either. My mom

didn't want to tell me but when I turned nineteen and signed my first contract, she thought it was good to let me know before I found out from someone else—especially someone in the media." Jamal stopped then and took a shaky breath.

"The day my father found out she was pregnant, he told her it wasn't his and took off. You know the sad thing about it was, he was the only man she'd been with and she only slept with him once. She was sixteen, alone and scared, and her mother kicked her out of the house. So you don't have to be worried about me not understanding your past. I understand perfectly. But you know something—our pasts make us the kind of men we are today."

Savaro caressed Jamal's cheeks. "You sounded like my dad then."

"Well in that case, your dad sounds like a very wise man." Jamal grinned. "But my mother would absolutely love you."

"Really? Well, I'm sure I would love her too,"

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Savaro whispered, stealing a kiss.

"You know—today is my birthday," Jamal smiled.

"Really?" Savaro smirked. "In that case… I got your birthday present right here…"

Jamal laughed as Savaro took his hand and shoved

it down his pants. He wrapped his fingers around Savaro's cock and stroked.

"Happy birthday, Baby," Savaro whispered.

* * * *

walked by Laird's room and heard the television going. In the master bedroom, he closed the door and watched with his mouth watering as Jamal stripped from his shirt, then his pants followed. When Jamal was naked, Savaro

removed his clothes and stood at the foot of the bed, stroking himself. He watched Jamal's dark skin fall slowly into the white sheets of the bed. All his toned muscles danced with the movement. Jamal caressed his large hands over his abs, over his nipples that tightened almost instantly, then downward. When a large hand formed around his large cock, Savaro moaned, licked his lips and crawled onto the bed. He stopped between Jamal's legs and bracing himself with both hands, he lowered his mouth to Jamal's dick.

The muffled sound of a phone vibrating from

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somewhere but Savaro wasn't paying attention until Jamal dug his fingers into Savaro's shoulder and eased him away.

Stunned Savaro sat on the ground watching Jamal

searching through the heap of clothes like he was possessed.

"Jamal, really?" Savaro questioned breathily. "We were in the middle of…"

"That ring—my phone never rings like that unless something is wrong."

"You're not making sense."

But by then Jamal had found the phone and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"

Savaro saw it the moment the colour drained from

his lover's face and he shoved to his feet. He took Jamal's shoulder just as the first tear slipped down the ballplayer's cheek. "Jamal, what's wrong?"

"I have to go!" Jamal blurted out reaching for his clothes. He dropped the phone and Savaro could still hear someone on the other end calling for Jamal. He knew Jamal wasn't thinking straight to tell him much of anything so he grabbed the discarded telephone.

"Hello? This is Savaro Anatolis. What's

happening?"

"Are you a family member?" The man asked.

"Ah yes. Jamal doesn't look so well—it's almost

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like he went into shock. What is happening?"

"My name is Doctor Reginald Sharpe at the Toronto General Hospital. I am calling regarding Tamara Samuels, his mother. She had a heart attack this…"

Those were the only other words he heard. He

slammed the phone shut and dumped it into his pocket. He grabbed some clothes and tossed it on before darting out the door. "Finish getting dressed. I'll grab some stuff and we can go."

"Savaro this is my trouble. You don't have to…"

Savaro hurried back and locked eyes with Jamal.

"No. This isn't your trouble. This is your mother and even though I never had one, I know how it feels to lose a parent. Now, finish getting dressed, splash some water on your face and I'll make some calls about getting us to Toronto later on tonight."

With that said he kissed Jamal's cheek then exited the room again. He gathered his cell phone, wallet, passport and a few other things and soon they were speeding through the streets back toward Jamal's hotel. While Jamal hurried to his room to grab his travel documents and a few things, Savaro sat down to the task of telling his brothers what was happening.

"So you're going off to Toronto, with Jamal, because his mother had a heart attack?" Laird asked.

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"Precisely."

"You must really have strong feelings for this man,"

Laird added. "You be careful. And don't worry about telling Rajan. I'll handle it. I'll also keep an eye on Anatolis while you're away. Just make sure Jamal is okay, all right?"

"Thanks brother. I love you."

"Love you too… I'll have the jet ready for you. Oh and call Appa."

Savaro promised he would and hung up. He was

dialling his father when Jamal slid into the front seat of the car and chucked a bag into the back seat.

"Hello?"

"Appa? It's Sav."

"Oh, hello son. What's up?"

"I'm heading to Toronto for a bit. Can you help Laird with Anatolis? It's kind of an emergency. I'll explain more later."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Appa. I'm fine. When I get back, there's someone I want you to meet. But right now I really have to go. If you can't stop worrying, call Laird, okay?"

"Be careful… I love you."

"Love you too, Appa."

He hung up and turned his attention to Jamal who

was now staring out the window. Savaro said nothing.

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Reaching over with is free hand, Savaro took Jamal's hand, lacing their fingers together. The only sound was the engine as they continued toward the airport. He didn't know what was happening inside Jamal's head but he could tell from experience what was happening inside Jamal's heart.

Savaro felt that ache every time he thought of his real parents and the fact they didn't want him. He felt a sense of loss—a fear he'd lose the only parent that ever gave a damn about him. The uncertainty was what hurt the most.

Still a slight distance away from the airport, his cell rang. Reaching up, he activated the speaker phone on his cell.

"Hello?"

"Sav, it's Laird. I managed to get the jet ready. Plans take you into Pearson International Airport. I called Travis and he'll be at the airport to get you and take you where you need to be, all right? And call me?"

"I will, thanks, Laird."

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They were high in the sky when Jamal finally took a breath and looked to where his hand was laced with Savaro's. He lifted Savaro's hand to his lips and brushed his lips over it. The fear that throbbed through him was just a bit more bearable with Savaro by his side. He'd only known the man for a few days but already his heart was being soothed by the chef. Leaning over, he pressed his lips against the side of Savaro's head—inhaling his lover's scent. The smell calmed him giving him a strength he never knew before. With his eyes closed, Jamal kissed Savaro's head before relaxing into his seat once more.

"I don't know many men who would be doing what you are," Jamal whispered. His voice sounded hoarse to himself. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," Savaro replied. "Don't force it."

"But I have to—I really… where do we go from here?"

"Jamal. Don't think about us right now. You don't have to quantify us as anything right now. I can wait. I know you think you should put my mind at ease but I'm not that insecure. We can deal with all that later. You have enough to worry about—now try to rest a little."

Jamal smiled sadly then squeezed Savaro's hand. He wanted to tell Savaro there was no getting any sleep, but he just couldn't do it. He wanted to see Savaro smile and knew if he was to talk back, Savaro would be worried even more.

Caressing Savaro's face, Jamal rested into the seat and closed his eyes.

"Jamal Kendricks get in here!"

It was the sixth or seventh time she'd called him but
he was kind of busy trying to get the stupid red wagon to
work. It had long gone rusty at the hinges holding the
wheels for he continually left it out in the rain. His mom,
however, sounded cross. Jamal darted in the door, heart
hammering inside his chest and his palms sweating like a
fountain. He skidded to a stop before his mother who had
her arms behind her back. Looking up into her face, he
arched a brow as a smile spread across her face.

"I have a surprise for you," she said. "I know you've
always wanted one."

She pulled the basketball from behind her back and
went down on her knees before the ten-year-old. Jamal's
hands shook as he took the ball, wonder and excitement
pulsating through him. "Mom…"

"Do you like it?"

Jamal didn't answer but dropped the ball and tossed
himself into his mother's chest, wrapping his arms around
her neck. He cried happily into her neck, kissing her cheek
before grabbing the ball and bouncing it out the door.

"She gave me my first basketball when I was ten,"

Jamal admitted, softly. He turned his head to lock eyes with Savaro. "I remember how happy I was to get that simple present. It wasn't my birthday or anything like that. She just bought me a present. The night before, we were watching an old Chicago Bulls game from like a month before and I just couldn't get over how perfect that game was. Until then when teachers told me men couldn't fly I believed them. I don't even remember saying I wanted a ball. That game was my first and after that night, I knew men could fly.

Anyways, the next day she called me into the house and I swore I was in trouble…" He trailed off with a chuckle.

"Actually she called me a few times and I just couldn't get the wheels on my red wagon to work. Finally she called my full name and I knew I was in trouble."

"Sounds about right," Savaro laughed. "Whenever Appa yelled our whole names we knew to run for the hills."

Jamal grinned with a nod. "But she presented me with this ball and I remembered thinking—best, present, ever! Then I darted out of the house to find Chase and tell him … oh God I have to call Chase!"

"Who—who's Chase?"

"My best friend. We grew up together… His mom was my mom's best friend."

"I can call him for you when we get there…"

Jamal nodded and dug into his back pocket. Finding his cell, he handed it to Savaro before resting back into the seat.

Savaro stood and pulled Jamal up. Jamal allowed

himself to be led toward the small bed on the left in the private plane. Savaro pulled him into his arms and Jamal sighed. He felt so surrounded by love and light at that one moment, he had to grit his teeth to avoid being consumed by the fire of it. Groaning, he pressed backward into Savaro's arms, tugged Savaro's arms around him tighter and closed his eyes.

"I love her, you know," he said.

"I know, Baby," Savaro replied.

"I want so much to have her around forever. She has to—she just has to stay with me. I can't lose her."

"I know, Baby…"

* * * *

Stepping off the plane a few hours later, Jamal had to get his land legs back but to his pleasant surprise, Savaro instantly took charge. All he did was watch, amazed, and follow until they climbed into a waiting rental car. The streets of Toronto were all abuzz with activity. Cars zoomed around them, cyclists whooshed by at stop signs and people hurried along the sidewalks. Sitting back in his seat, clutching Savaro's free hand, Jamal wondered why humans had such a knack for rushing. Why did they hurry to do everything when most didn't want to die? That morbid thought made him flinch and he took a deep breath.

"She's going to be fine, you know," Savaro spoke and squeezed his hand.

Jamal nodded. He lifted Savaro's hand to his lips and kissed it before lowering their hands to his thigh. The idea of walking into his mother's hospital room terrified him. He didn't know what to expect, all he knew was she had to be alive. Turning his attention out the window again, it was in time to catch a glimpse of Nathan Phillips Square.

The hospital was large. Stepping from the car and looking up, it towered heavenward like a brick

abomination. Ignoring everything except Savaro, Jamal hurried into the building and skidded to a stop at the front desk. When he was pointed to the floor his mother was on, he stepped into the elevator ahead of Savaro and pressed his back into the wall. By the time they reached the fifteenth floor, he was so nervous he stood just outside the elevator pressing his face into Savaro's neck. Savaro caressed his back softly.

"Don't expect the worst," Savaro advised. "And if anything, I am right there. All you have to do is reach out."

Jamal lifted his face to stare into Savaro's eyes and the love he saw there shocked him. He figured he was seeing things but he offered his lips to Savaro. In that kiss, he took comfort and soothing then stepped back to tuck his shirt into place and to smooth a hand over his cornrows. He then walked to the desk and leant in.

"Hi, I'm…"

"Jamal Kendricks!" The nurse beamed with a flail of her arms. "You're here for your mom—she's in room fifteen oh two. That way."

Nodding, Jamal turned in the direction she pointed on stiff legs. He didn't have to turn around to know Savaro was with him—he could feel him. Taking a deep breath, he walked into his mother's room. Tamara turned her head and looked at him and the smile that spread across her face made his heart soar. He rushed to the bed, bent over it and pressed his face into her neck. He held on to her tightly.