Chapter Twenty-One

Monday came much too quickly for Jordan's taste. By nine thirty he'd already finished his second cup of coffee. Ignoring the many phone calls to make, Jordan sat at his kitchen table and chose to think about the incredible weekend he and Lucas had shared. Sasha nudged her muzzle under his hand, and he idly scratched her silky ears. The dog loved Lucas, and Jordan swore she seemed happier when they both walked her and were home with her.

Home. Once again his house felt like a home, thanks to Lucas's presence. Jordan knew he needed Lucas there with him during the nights, when his demons crawled out and made their presence known like an unwanted houseguest. When he confessed his anxiety, Lucas had looked at him strangely.

"You know I'm here for you; whatever you need. But I don't understand what you're anxious about." He kissed him. "You're a big, bad-ass doctor who doesn't take shit from anyone."

Jordan contemplated Lucas's remark as he finished his coffee. While it was true he longed to return to the person he'd once been, he'd changed too much to ever be as dismissive and self-centered as before. It was hard to feel superior when all you were holding on to was the hope of getting through one more day. And your only hope was a small yellow pill.

Doctors carried a natural arrogance around with them. Jordan had never questioned it, as he considered it his due. After all, he saved lives, and as an orthopedic surgeon, he literally put broken people back together again. Setting a shattered bone, piecing together its fragments required manual skill and technical ability, leaving little room for experiment or discussion. It couldn't compare to what Tash hoped to accomplish with him.

Over the past year, he'd discovered that the mind was an unexplored place of fathomless, twisting caverns. Life had become a desert set with minefields, and Jordan had been unprepared for the havoc and grief Keith's death, plus the near destruction of his friendship with Drew, would wreak on him, driving him almost crazy. He'd thought he was stronger than people who'd given in to the desperation. He'd thought he could handle it. He especially never thought he'd become an addict, which proved how much control emotions really had over his mind.

It was part of the reason he decided to go for the seven-day detoxification—a total withdrawal from the Xanax. He'd been weaning himself down and presently only took four pills a day. Still too many, but greatly reduced from what he'd been taking for the past six months. With Tash's professional help during the day and Lucas's love giving him strength at night, Jordan had no doubt he'd overcome his problem. Even now he sensed his resolve returning, flooding his veins with the cocksure attitude that had propelled him to the top of his class and near the top of his field despite his youth.

None of that reasoning helped as he dialed the phone to speak to his boss, the head of orthopedics. Nervous perspiration broke out over his body and his hands shook. How had he allowed himself to sink so low?

"Dr. Springer's office."

God save him from perky people before ten in the morning. "Good morning, Elyse. It's Dr. Peterson. Is he in?"

"One moment, Doctor." Was it his imagination, or did she hesitate?

Before he had a chance to think more about it, the brusque voice of his boss came on the phone. "Jordan? What's the matter?"

He gripped the phone tight and feigned nonchalance. "Why should anything be the matter?"

"Because in the ten years you've worked here, I can't remember the last time you called me. So don't bullshit a bullshitter. Start talking."

He swallowed heavily. "I know I've only come back full-time for a few months now, but, um, I'm going to need a few weeks off. I haven't scheduled any surgeries and…"

"What's the matter, Jordan? Are you sick?"

The surprisingly caring note in Springer's voice caused unexpected tears to rise in Jordan's eyes. Goddamn it. Get a grip . "I'm fine…no, I'm not. I'm going in for detox, David. It's a rapid seven-day program, and I'll want the week after off as well, to make sure I'm well enough to return to work. If you still want me."

Silence. Jordan braced himself for what he believed would be his termination due to his drug abuse. He wouldn't fight it, and it would mean he'd never work in a hospital again. The end of his career. Being an orthopedic surgeon was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do since he was in college. His whole body began to shake. What a fucking mess he'd made of his life.

"Do you think we're going to abandon you, Jordan? You've been a practicing physician long enough to know how many doctors face these types of challenges every day."

And Jordan, who believed he'd have to go through this ordeal alone, listened in wonder.

"We take care of our own. Everyone on staff here has been aware of your struggles over the past year, and we all commend you."

"David, I became addicted to Xanax when the struggle became too much to handle. What exactly are you commending me for?" Perhaps he was shooting himself in the foot, but in the ten years he'd known David Springer, the man had hardly been the warm and fuzzy type.

Nor was he now. But his voice, though stern, wasn't condemning or accusatory. "For recognizing you need help. That you had an addiction. This problem has touched almost all of us in this community in so many different ways, whether it be a friend, a family member, or even ourselves. Do you think you're the only one?"

"I didn't know." Before he himself had this problem, Jordan never would have cared about someone else's struggle. "It's not anything I'd ever thought about before—"

"Before you yourself had this problem, right?" Springer chuckled. "I know you, Jordan. You're an excellent technical doctor, but concern for your fellow man was never your strong suit." His voice once again softened. "Sometimes it takes a kick in the ass to show us what really is important in life, doesn't it?"

After hanging up with Springer and promising to keep him abreast of his treatment, Jordan rinsed out his mug and took Sasha out. After a long invigorating walk for the both of them, he mounted the front steps of the brownstone, key in hand when Sasha barked and pulled at her leash. He turned around to see Drew and Ash at the foot of his stairs. Ash was dressed in a suit, obviously on his way in to work, while Drew was his usual more casual self. Hopefully that meant Drew planned to stay for a while and Ash would leave. Even though Jordan had tried to get Lucas to reconcile with Ash, the fact remained that Ash had hurt Lucas so badly he'd been an emotional cripple his entire life, and Jordan could understand his lover's refusal to resolve their differences. In the war between the two of them, Jordan would always be on Lucas's side.

"Hello, you two. What's up?" They approached, and Sasha met them halfway up the steps, sniffing and licking both their hands. Drew's light green gaze swept over Jordan, assessing him, he thought. "I'm fine, Drew."

Faint pink stained Drew's pale skin. "I know, Jordy. It's been a while since we've hung out, and I thought I could come by, and we'd catch up before I had to go to the clinic."

Ash knelt down to scratch Sasha behind her ears and grinned up at him. "Don't worry. I'm not staying." His smile faded. "Is, um, Luke here, by any chance?"

Jordan almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He had to give Ash credit for never giving up hope that somehow, some way, Luke would cave and talk to him. "No, he left a while ago."

"Oh." After giving the dog one last pat, Ash leaned over and kissed Drew. "Bye, baby. See you tonight."

"Have a good day."

Drew's concentration remained on Ash until the man got into a cab. Only then did Drew face Jordan again with a smile on his lips.

"Things still good between the two of you?" Jordan hoped his tone came across as concerned. Ash had begun to grow on him. Like a fungus.

"Of course." Drew's smile faded. "I love him, Jordan. If you're still hoping he's been some kind of experiment for me, give it up. It's been over a year already, and he's it for me."

"No. No." Jordan put up his hands. "Let's go inside. Tash is coming over, and I need to get ready for him."

Drew followed him silently into the house. Jordan gave Sasha fresh water and indicated to Drew he should take some coffee. "Pour yourself a mug and we can catch up."

Drew poured one for Jordan as well. "Tash is the doctor you introduced us to the night of the center's opening, right?" He sipped the coffee and took a bagel from the plate on the counter. "You don't mind, do you? We ran late, and I didn't have a chance to eat breakfast." He sat and took a knife out of the chef's block to cut his bagel.

"Be my guest." Jordan could only imagine why he overslept, knowing Ash's former reputation as an insatiable lover. He remonstrated with himself, knowing he had to stop accusing Ash of things that weren't true. The man had been nothing but faithful to Drew from the time they'd met, never once reverting to his wild ways. It showed how hard it was to change people's opinions, no matter what the facts were. He'd have to remember that as well in his own life. If he wanted people to know he was no longer the arrogant bastard he'd always been, he had a lot of minds to persuade.

"Yes, Tash is a psychiatrist and will be administering my treatment here, at home. Afterward, I'll be in therapy with him."

"I'm proud of you." Drew put his bagel down on the plate. "It takes tremendous courage to admit an addiction and quit. But I've been reading up on this therapy." He picked the bagel back up, took a bite, and chewed, his furrowed brow evidencing his concern.

"What's the matter, Drew?" Jordan set his mug down on the island and sat.

"I'm a little worried about this drug they give to you, flumazenil. It can have some bad side effects. Are you aware of it?"

Touched by his friend's concern, Jordan hitched his stool closer to Drew's. "Look, I've done my research. I haven't been on the pills that long, so I have that in my favor. But my dosage had been high for several months, so I know I'm going to have withdrawal. Yes, it's not perfect, but I want my life back as quickly as possible. I'm willing to take the risks. It's been hell on earth keeping this from everyone."

"Where does Luke stand in all this? Is he supportive? Because the way he reacted that night at the center opening, I have to admit I was really disappointed in him."

Jordan had no intention of discussing Lucas's reasons with Drew. "He's with me all the way." Jordan took a sip of his coffee. "I love him, Drew."

Drew's eyes crinkled as he grinned. "I could tell. You're finally tolerable to be around. We all owe him one." The smile faded, and he looked sober for a moment. "And I presume he feels the same way?"

Jordan couldn't help the stupid smile he knew broke over his face. "Yeah, he does. I couldn't have made it back without him."

Drew slipped off his stool and hugged Jordan hard. "All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy again. I had such doubts after Keith died. You were so torn up with grief." Always emotional, Drew stopped for a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes. "It's been wonderful watching you come back to life, you know? I couldn't be happier for the two of you, even though I wish we could all settle our differences. Still, it kills me that you didn't come to me for help. You know I'd never judge you."

"I was too fucking proud to admit it. I'm sure you can understand. But I'm over it now. I'm a different person than I was a year ago. Maybe I needed something to kick me in the ass to show me how off the rails I'd gone. All I know is that I'm never going back to how I was before."

Drew raised a brow and grinned, disbelief etched on his face. "Are you kidding? Don't tell me you're going to be nice."

Jordan flipped him off. "Ass. You know what I mean. I know what it's like to be weak and hopeless. I won't ever put down someone else again for feeling that way."

Sasha came wandering in to sit at his feet, and he bent to smooth her short, shiny fur. "It took me a while to move past my guilt as well. Guilt that I could have feelings for someone other than Keith. Sex, yeah. Even though I never believed in sex to get off, it was easier thinking I could do that, rather than ever look at another man or have feelings for someone else. How could I betray Keith and what we had together? But it's not about that. Lucas understands he's not a replacement. I fell in love without even recognizing it happened."

Christ, could he get any sappier? When he sneaked a glance at Drew, his friend had a huge grin on his face.

"What a softie you've become."

"Oh fuck off, D." But they both laughed and sat in companionable silence, drinking their coffee until the doorbell rang, and Jordan knew the hardest fight of his life was about to start. His heart slammed and he trembled. Drew squeezed his arm. "It'll be okay. We're all here for you."

Jordan didn't answer; the nerves had taken control of his body and he struggled not to throw up from fear. Through the sheer curtain covering the glass-fronted door, he could see Tash standing on the stoop, a large satchel in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.

Here goes nothing . Mustering a smile, Jordan opened the door. "Good morning. Come on in."

Tash smiled back at him. "Good morning." He walked in and placed his bag at the foot of the stairs. "Beautiful place you have here." His gaze swept the room. "Mid to late nineteenth century, I'm guessing."

Jordan nodded. "Yes. It was built around 1880, from what we were able to find out from city records."

"Mind if I wander around?"

"Of course not." Jordan watched as Tash entered the front parlor and gazed up at the tin ceiling.

"Great restoration, too." He looked about appreciatively. "Everything in this room is perfect."

"Thanks."

Drew entered the room, pulling on his jacket. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I can reschedule my patients."

But Jordan had gotten himself into this mess and he'd get out of it on his own. He didn't need his friends to see how low he'd sunk.

"No, I'll be fine."

"Call me later then, okay?" He hugged him tight. "I love you. Everything's going to be all right."

"Thanks, D. Love you too, man." He hugged Drew's slender frame. Thank God for my friends . "Talk to you later."

Drew shook Tash's hand. "Good to see you again. Take care of this guy. He's a pain in the ass, but I like having him around."

Jordan groaned. "Don't you have work to do? Boobs to lift or something?"

Drew shuddered. "Not anymore. God save me from the ladies who lunch and have too much money and time on their hands."

After Drew left, Jordan showed Tash around the rest of the house. The man certainly knew his architecture, and as they stood in the front parlor, Jordan questioned him on his obvious knowledge.

Tash laughed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh, it's only a hobby. I have a carriage house in Brooklyn I spent years renovating, so I'm always interested in seeing what other people have done with their homes." He ran his hand over the carved mantel of the fireplace. "I appreciate when I see a house, like yours, where so much obvious love and thought was put into the restoration."

"Keith and I spent every weekend doing something for this money pit. But I won't deny I love it."

"Why deny it? And it's good you have a comforting place to do the treatment in. Makes things that much easier." He pulled open his satchel and took out a bag of saline, the vial with the dosage of the flumazenil, and the intravenous tubes.

As he worked, Tash talked. "I'm starting you out on a low dosage to see how you react. You haven't been on the Xanax for that long, which is a good thing, so I'm hopeful this will work right from the start."

Jordan clasped his shaking hands together. His heart pounded so hard he hoped he wouldn't stroke out. What a chickenshit he was. He'd taken the drugs with no thought or concern; why did the treatment scare him so much? "How will we know if it works?"

"It's not going to happen overnight, Jordan." Tash put down the vial on the marble coffee table. "You didn't become addicted immediately, so I'm sure you know the treatment won't work after one dose. But after tomorrow, your anxiety level should drop significantly."

"Um, all right. Do I need to do anything?" Jordan watched as Tash set up the portable IV pole and hung the bag of saline on it.

"Roll up your sleeve and let me go wash my hands."

"Right down the hall to your left."

Tash headed toward the small powder room next to the kitchen. Jordan pushed up the sleeve of his thin sweater and leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed. Memories of making love with Lucas played in his mind, and a yearning to hold him and be held welled up from within, so strong he almost couldn't breathe. He'd never been so alone as he was at this very moment.

"Hey, Jordan, don't worry. I promise it will be okay." He opened his eyes to view Tash kneeling next to him, a sincere, comforting smile on his handsome face. Jordan couldn't be more thankful to have someone like Tash as his doctor.

"I know." He huffed out a nervous laugh, running his hand through his hair. "Fear of the unknown, I guess."

Tash picked up his hand and squeezed it. "Don't be ashamed. It's normal to be scared. I'd be surprised if you weren't. But I'm going to be with you every step of the way. That's what I'm here for."

Jordan was sitting and staring at their entwined hands when a growling voice broke into his reverie.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Jordan jerked his hand away and turned around to see a glowering Lucas standing in the doorway. Elation bubbled up inside of him and a wide smile broke across his face as he jumped up and ran over to Lucas.

Jordan threw his arms around him. "What are you doing here? I'm so happy to see you."

After a moment's hesitation, Lucas hugged him back, hard and tight. So tight he almost couldn't breathe, but it felt good to be wanted and needed by this man. "I had Val rearrange my schedule this next week so I can be with you for the treatments. My phone calls will be routed here if that's okay."

"You don't know how much I wanted you here with me." Lucas's heady scent enveloped him, and Jordan couldn't let go, burrowing his face into Lucas's shoulder, digging his fingers into the wool of Lucas's suit jacket. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh yeah?" Lucas slid an arm around his shoulder and raised a brow, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "What were you thinking, Prep School?"

Jordan pulled him close, loving the hardness of Lucas's body against his. He brushed a soft kiss to Lucas's lips. "I'll tell you later tonight. Or better yet, I'll show you."

Remembering finally that Tash waited to start the treatment, Jordan took Lucas by the hand and brought him to the sofa to sit next to him. "It's great that you're going to be here every day. I'll need all the support I can get."

Lucas shrugged off his jacket then rested his arm behind Jordan as they sat on the sofa. "I'm always here for you. After all, Jordan should have the people around who know him best and care for him, right, Tash?" He turned a cool eye to Tash, and Jordan wondered what was going on.

Tash rolled up his sleeves his jaw tight. The lightness receded from his face.

"As long as they truly care for him. Jordan will need stability and the knowledge he is loved and cared for. His anxiety levels have to be kept to a minimum." Tash stood. "Are you ready, Jordan?"

Lucas squeezed his shoulder. "You got this, Prep School. Remember what you said to me the other night. Fucking own it and take control."

Jordan nodded and, with an almost surreal detachment, felt the cool swab of alcohol against his skin then observed Tash sliding the needle into his vein, then injecting the flumazenil into the IV. After adjusting the drip, Tash placed a small bandage on his arm at the site of the needle insertion.

"That's it." Tash smiled. "Now relax, maybe close your eyes for a while, and take a nap."

Lucas carefully lay Jordan's head down in his lap. "Here, use me as your pillow."

Jordan rested his cheek on Lucas's solid thigh, settling in with a comfortable sigh. The faint scent of citrus body wash combined with Lucas's underlying heat and musk both stirred and soothed Jordan. He closed his eyes, finally able to believe he'd begun to turn his life around.