He knew all too well. He used to be Dr. Simon Malone, cardio-thoracic surgeon, but now he was a surgeon with a fucked up hand. A surgeon who couldn’t perform surgery, which meant he wasn’t a surgeon at all.
Simon took the man in. He was lost, in the same way Simon was.
Trevor looked as though he was ready to go work out, in sweats and running shoes. It’s what Simon had been ready to go do himself.
He had two choices here. He could tell Trevor to fuck off...or he could give him a chance. The truth was, there was something about him that Simon connected with. He had balls. Coming over here had been a stupid thing for Trevor to do, but he hadn’t let that hold him back. He’d done what he believed he had to, no matter how hard it was. Simon could respect that. Everything he’d done yesterday had shown how gutsy he was, too, and how strong. No one in that emergency room would have known Trevor wasn’t supposed to take the medication, if he’d accepted it. But he hadn’t.
Simon stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him. He paused. “Go for a run with me.”
Trevor nodded, and then the two of them jogged down his stairs and headed for the road.
CHAPTER FIVE
Trevor’s hand ached. Pain shot through it each time one of his feet hit the ground, the vibration echoing up through his body. Still, he kept going. It felt good to run. He started as soon as he’d gotten clean and he hadn’t stopped ever since.
He liked when his lungs hurt. When he gasped for cleansing breath, because he hadn’t felt clean when he was using. It took getting clean for him to realize it.
Simon ran beside him. Their arms brushed up against one another’s every once in a while. Each time it did, Trevor couldn’t stop wondering what they were doing out here. They hadn’t gotten along very well yesterday. Add in Trevor’s irresponsible behavior from today, and he would fully understand why Simon wouldn’t want to hire them, or want Trevor on his property again.
Yet, here they were, running the twisting, forested road together.
“So, you’re a doctor.” Trevor concentrated on breathing, and the sound of their feet slamming down on the ground. The silence was killing him. He had to say something.
“Yes.”
“You said something about working in San Francisco, but you live out here.”
Plop, plop, plop, plop, their footsteps blended together as they beat on the ground.
“I’m retired.”
Obviously, Simon wasn’t much of a talker. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”
He turned his head, his left eyebrow going up. “I’m older than you.”
“Yeah, but I’m not retired.”
Simon’s black hair lay plastered with sweat against his head. He was older than Trevor, but he couldn’t be too much older. He had no wrinkles around his eyes, or gray in his hair. He was cute. Probably as straight as they came, but sexy.
Simon turned away. “Let’s head back.” They made a quick turn and then continued their jog back toward Simon’s house. Obviously, he didn’t plan on giving Trevor an answer, and that annoyed him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted one so damned much.
“I was attacked. A home invasion. Swelling and pressure on the wrong nerves screwed up my career. Can’t very well perform surgery if you can’t grip a scalpel or control the pain in your hand.” He didn’t look at Trevor, but he didn’t have to for Trevor to hear the anger, and pain, in his voice.
It made the air around them tight, stifling.
Simon surprised him by adding, “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”
“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” And he was. He couldn’t imagine losing something like that. He’d been pretty lucky in his life. He’d done nothing but fuck up, yet he still had family who loved him. People who were willing to put themselves on the line by starting a business with him. Maybe Simon had that, too, but he’d obviously lost a part of himself as well.
Trevor had too. Not a good part of himself, but he’d lost a part all the same. “I started drinking heavily when I was sixteen. Moved on to pills by eighteen. Harder drugs after that. I didn’t go to college, or have a career before now. I didn’t have goals, but I had partying. I thought I liked my life at the time. I thought that was who I was. It’s a good thing...losing that. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but it was still a loss. I’m twenty-five now, and it’s hard to figure out who you are when the one thing you think defines you is gone.”
He felt Simon’s arm brush against his again, but this time...he could have sworn it lingered.