Page 73 of Doing Life

“Call if you need me,” Dan said.

Once the door was closed, Lance asked quietly, “How are you, really?”

“Well, that bottle exploding was like being stung by a dozen bees. And I never like having a gun pointed at me. But I’m all right so far.” Sloan chuckled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “How are you?”

“Pissed off that someone shot at you.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Sloan got them moving. The cruiser was not near as nice as Dan’s van. And it smelled a lot like sausage biscuits. He knew what Sloan had eaten for brunch, he guessed.

Abby was busy snuffling through wrappers in the back, from the sound of it.

“No, Abby. Don’t eat that,” Sloan said. “Anyway, I had really hoped he would just surrender. He seemed afraid of the cops, you know?”

“Guess he needed his meth more, huh?” Lance sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I hate that I’m making us late for our audiobook date.”

“Well, and now we have to stop at another store on the way home and get snacks,” he teased.

“Yeah. I’ll call first and make sure there’s no robbers in the Circle K.”

“I would appreciate that. I would hate to have to do a beatdown on someone who shot at you again.” Lance kept his tone light because that was obviously what Sloan wanted to do. “Nice thing about audiobooks is they can start wherever you turn them on.”

“True that. I can’t believe it’s already the end of September. I can’t believe how damn hot it is here for September.” Sloan sounded like he was jittering.

Lance nodded. It wasn’t just hot. It was hot and humid as all get-out. “Yeah, things are starting to cool off in Santa Fe, I bet.” Lance shot him a glance. “You know that, if you want to go home, I won’t be pissed off. I mean, I still have to be here for a bit longer and figure some stuff out, but I’ve been working at it.”

“Working at what?”

“Getting you a dog that Abby likes too. Talking to the School for the Blind in New Mexico and the VA there in Santa Fe. I need to make sure that when I come up there to, you know…I mean…” That was what Sloan wanted, right? That was the endgame. Sloan hadn’t come to move here forever, and to be honest, this wasn’t their vibe.

He wasn’t sure what their vibe was, but he was certain it wasn’t this.

“I know that’s what I want. You’re who I want.” Sloan offered him a laugh that sounded a little caught up. “I want you to come home with me to New Mexico. I want to see Abby playing the snow. I want to eat green chile enchiladas together. I want you to hang out with my sister and be Uncle Lance with the kids.” Sloan sounded shocked, to be honest. “What about you? Are you sure? I mean, you’ve really talked to the School for the Blind in Albuquerque?”

His shoulders were crawling up around his ears, and heforced them to drop. “Yeah, I really did. I looked it up on the laptop. I heard all about it. I called them, and I talked to them about what my options were. I did the same with the VA. I mean, I know that somebody’s going to have to drive me around, and I know I’m going to need help, but I can hire someone to drive me while you’re at work.”

“Shit, I have family. I have lots of family. I have an enormous amount of family. Cousins coming out literally of my wazoo.”

He didn’t want to know where Sloan’s wazoo was.

“Well, like I said, I have a few more things to accomplish, and I want to make sure I’m not a burden for you. I don’t mean that in any kind of whiny bullshit I don’t-want-to-be-a-burden kind of way. I mean in an actual practical sort of way. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet with you. I want to keep up with my therapy. But it’s coming. I don’t think I’m a permanent hang-out-at-the-house type.”

“You could stay at my house, you know,” Sloan offered. “Kind of permanently now, I mean here. Like a trial run for Santa Fe.”

A trial run, huh? That might work for him. Rather try it here and need help and have some. “Let me talk to Luke and make sure that that doesn’t screw up any grant monies and stuff, but yeah. I would try it. Especially if the guys could still help me get around.”

He heard Sloan swallow convulsively. “Okay, so this has been kind of a momentous day, and I hope we get to the office soon, because I think I’m going to barf.”

Lance didn’t grin. “I’m not going to take that personally.”

“Please don’t. It’s not you, it’s adrenaline.”

“Sloan. How long have I known you?” Lance had been Sloan’s medic before they were lovers. “I’ve seen you puke all over the world. You’re sort of like the master of it. Adrenaline? Barf. Pain? Barf. Big pain? Big barf. Big noises? Barf.”

“Would you stop it?”

There was no way. None. This was too much fucking fun. “Too much electric guitar? Barf. Stung by a bee? Too much vodka-infused watermelon? The smell of banana chips? The sight of lizard innards? Baaaaarf.”

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