Page 21 of For the Love of Scott
Chapter Six
Dr. Susan Farmer and Lucy, one of her vet techs, await their arrival. Doc nods at Sylvester’s wrapped and secured little body. “Good job,” she says, taking the shelf from Scott. “Scott, I’m going to take him back and get some x-rays, take some blood, see what I can find out, all right?”
He nods, looking pretty shell shocked. Ben drops a light arm across his shoulders.
“Lucy, take them to the private waiting room and then come help me.”
“Right this way,” says Lucy, heading down the hall.
Ben has never seen Scott like this. Sylvester’s accident has thrown him for one hell of a loop, and he has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the bomb that had taken Scott’s leg. But he doesn’t know how it relates to the dog. Scott’s a pretty private guy, and even though they are now seeing each other, it’s still early days and too soon for any sort of gut spilling. But hell, some insight would be useful.
Lucy opens a door and hurries in and turns on a small table lamp. She pulls a remote control from a drawer and sets it on the small coffee table. “There’s a coffee pot and water in the mini-fridge.”
“Thanks,” says Ben and she leaves. He shoves his fingers into his front pockets and scans the room.
Several wood-framed chairs with upholstered seats and backs line one wall. It’s a cozy room with a fake ficus in the corner and small flat screen TV hanging on one wall. A cluster of framed pet photos decorate another.
Lucy left the door cracked—no one else is in the vet’s office at eleven thirty at night.
Scott collapses into a chair. He crosses his arms and bounces both legs.
Ben sits next to him. He isn’t sure what to say or what to do right now. If it had been him, he’d want company and companionable silence, not irritating platitudes. “If you need something, let me know,” is all he says.
Scott nods, then closes his eyes and drops his head against the wall, knees still rising and falling at a rapid rate.
Minutes turn into half an hour and then an hour. They sit without speaking, although the volume and rate of Scott’s breathing ebbs and flows as he works through his emotions. Ben wants to comfort him, but Sylvester’s accident and Scott’s reaction are huge things, and the two of them have no history with even the small things to guide him.
Screw it. He has to do something.
He reaches for Scott’s hand when Scott’s eyes flew open. They’re red-rimmed and full of such misery that Ben’s breath stalls in his lungs.
Scott stands. “Look, Ben…” He rakes his hands across the top of his head. “I can’t… We can’t… This isn’t going to work.”
Ben’s vision narrows and he goes cold all over. He shakes his head. “What? I don’t understand. What isn’t going to work?”
Scott looks pretty wrecked. “We can’t be a thing anymore. Whatever it is we’re doing, we can’t do anymore.”
Ben’s head buzzes. “Why not?” He stands too. This isn’t how the night is supposed to end. They’d gone back to Scott’s place to be alone. To go slow quickly. And now this.
“Syl got hurt because I’ve been distracted. Because I was out having fun instead of taking care of my business.”
“That’s not tr—”
Scott pounds the wall behind him. “My head was in the frickin’ clouds because of you. I lost one dog already.” He’s shouting now. “I can’t lose another. It would kill me, Ben. I can’t. I just…can’t.” His last word is a whisper and tears bubble on his lower eyelids.
Ben takes a step back as if Scott has punched him in the gut. His lungs have stopped working. He shakes his head.No. No. No.Scott doesn’t mean it. Can’t really mean it. They’d been sneaking touches all evening, and they’d gone back to Scott’s place to talk, to touch, to kiss, to watch TV… That was all.
Scott is hurting and lashing out, and he needs comfort, but a sixth sense tells Ben there is a pretty good chance he’ll get decked for his trouble.
“Scott—whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter. I lost focus, and I just can’t afford to do that. I can’t go down that path again. Please. If you care about me at all, let it go.”
Ben isn’t sure what path that was. “Scott, boo, c’mon. You need someone here with you.”
“I’m fine now,” he says with a sudden hard edge to his voice.
Ben reaches out for the wall to steady himself. This can’t be happening. They’ve just connected. It’s been good. It’s felt right. It’s—
