Relationship Material by Jenya Keefe

Author:Jenya Keefe [Keefe, Jenya]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2019-08-04T18:30:00+00:00

Evan stood on Mal’s doorstep, Dulcie at his heels. He rang the doorbell.

It was about 10 a.m. on a Friday in November, and no sexy text had brought him today. Mal wasn’t answering his texts or calls. Or the doorbell. Hunching his shoulders against the cold drizzle, Evan rang again, and then pounded the door with his fist for good measure. Still no answer.

For the first time, Evan used his key and let himself into Mal’s town house.

Yesterday he’d worked an unexpected double shift at Cedar Heights—Jackie’s kid had a broken arm, this time—and just as he’d been about to go home at nine, Dorothy Wallace had hit the emergency call button. He’d stayed all night with her, which meant he had now been awake for more than thirty hours. He needed to go home, shower, eat, and take his pills, but he was worried. Mal hadn’t been answering his phone, and a check with Caro had revealed that he hadn’t made it to work this morning, and hadn’t called in.

Mal’s town house was dim and still; it felt empty. Evan paused, listening. Nothing.

It smelled like sickness in here. Vomit.

“Mal?” he called.

No answer.

He toed his shoes off, dropped his messenger bag, pointed Dulcie to the kitchen rug, and padded across the living room and up the stairs.

Mal’s bedroom. He’d never actually been in this room before; they’d always hooked up in the downstairs living room, on the couch, on the floor, against the wall. One memorable occasion on the dining room table.

The bedside lamp was on. The king-sized bed was unmade, empty, a tangle of sheets. The bad smell was strong in here.

Evan found Mal in the master bathroom, curled on the hard tile floor, perfectly still, wearing only his underwear and a T-shirt. Biting his lip, he crouched next to Mal and touched his fingertips to the pulse point beneath his jaw. Mal was warm; his heart thumped, strong and regular. He was asleep.

There was vomit in the toilet, in the wastebasket, on the toilet seat. A little on the floor. Poor Mal. Evan’s touch went from clinical to caressing, and he reverently stroked the sweaty hair back from Mal’s face.

Mal’s eye opened. The dark iris rolled in its socket to look up at Evan.

“Hey there,” said Evan. “Looks like you’re having a terrible day.”

“Fuck off.”

Oh. Mal was going to be one of those patients.

“Okay,” Evan said. “But first let me tell you something.”

“Bite me.”

Yep. Lots of people got ugly when they were sick. Evan shouldn’t be terribly surprised to find that Mal was one of them. “Mal. You have food poisoning. The dinner you and your mother shared last night at Tsang’s had gone bad.”

Mal was quiet for a moment, then asked huskily, “Is my mom okay?”

“She was sick too, but now she’s fine. Last night she rang for the nurse, and we stayed with her the whole time. She was sleeping when I left, but before she went to bed, she asked me to come check on you.

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