And Call Me in the Morning (25 page)

“So,” Zane said, the first to recover. His lips quirked. “That was us, huh?”

“Damn right it was,” Eli said, resting his head on Zane's shoulder. “And worth the wait.”

“Here.” Zane wrapped Eli's hand around a warm mug that smelled not of coffee, but of some fruity blend of tea. “Made this for you.”

“I can see you did.” Eli tried a sip. Not bad. “And why aren't you still in bed? Doctor's orders.” He patted the space beside him on the couch, where with the curtains drawn back and the shades open, he had a hell of a view of Chicago at dawn. “Since you're awake, you might as well.”

“Generous of you.” Zane being Zane, he ignored Eli's placement suggestion and parked himself on Eli's lap instead. Straddled him, the mug carefully balanced between them, at perfect level for sharing.

It was so sweet Eli's teeth hurt. He wouldn't have traded the moment for the world.

He drew Zane to him by the nape and kissed him good morning, flavored with hot tea, honey, and a hint of spice. The momentum jostled Zane, who winced out loud.

Eli stopped immediately. “Sore?”

“Little bit,” Zane admitted before waving that aside. “It'll pass, and besides. Worth it.”

“Glad to hear you think so.”

One of Zane's eyebrows crooked wickedly. “I could go into detail if you liked about how worth it and list reasons why.”

“Thanks, no need. I was there, after all.” Eli didn't know whether to blush or to brazenly enjoy. He chose the latter. Why not? The sun was shining, he had a lap full of best friend and lover combined in one attractive package, and as far as Eli was concerned, it would be a terrific day.

He did admit to some curiosity. “If you save that list for later on, say, tonight, I'd be inclined to listen then. Pointers, you know.”

“Pointers indeed.” Zane flicked the drawstring on the sleep pants he'd lent Eli. “I'll give you pointers.”

“That goes without saying.” Eli wrestled Zane—gently—and eased him off. He felt the strain of a good hard fuck himself, even if he hadn't been on the receiving end, and he wanted to take this morning slowly. “Sit still. Enjoy.”

Zane had to have been feeling better. He tapped his foot with excess energy. “Why?”

Eli reeled Zane in. “Because I like lazy mornings with the one I care enough to send my very best.”

Zane laughed. Mission accomplished. More, when he slowed to an easy grin, Eli could see a smoothing of his forehead and a sort of calmness pass through his gray eyes in place of the quicksilver, rapid-fire thoughts Eli had seen over the past few days.

He stroked Zane's hair over his forehead. “What's been on your mind lately?”

“That, I would think, was obvious.” Zane used Eli as leverage to pull himself up. He kissed the top of Eli's head with a loud, ringing
smack.
Amazing, really, how familiar and comfortable that had become. How welcome.

“You're fooling no one. Hey.” Eli caught Zane's arm. “Are you with me?”

Zane made an annoyed face. “Don't push it, or I'll have to punish you.”

“I think that's more your style than mine.”

“Don't knock it until you've tried it, pal.” On his feet, Zane stretched, popping his neck from side to side. Eli grimaced at the sight and sound, but on the other hand, he could see Zane's old energy flowing back in, and that was nothing to sneer at.

“So they say about sushi, yet I have still to experience the desire to try raw fish.” Eli shuddered. The mug they shared between them was empty save for the dregs, which he drained. He hitched up to playfully slap Zane's ass. “Since you're up, how about a refill?”

“Since you have two functional legs, go get it yourself.” Zane gave an exaggerated bow, ending with a doublehanded point to the kitchen.

“Tastes better when you pour it.”

“Oh, hell no. I'm not June Cleaver in pearls.” Zane laughed as he scoffed. “Just for that, I'm leaving you to fend for yourself while I go down and get yesterday's mail.
Alone
, thank you very much. Ah-ah-ah. If I'm well enough to get fucked, I'm well enough to handle a few flights of stairs.”

“As long as you're not running scared. That was my job, and I'm done with it.”

Zane shrugged. “I just need to stretch my legs some. I'm restless.”

“Okay, fine.” Eli considered himself man enough to admit when he was being overcautious. Sometimes. “If you're not back upstairs in fifteen minutes, I'm coming after you.”

“And the status quo continues. With minor alterations.” Zane pulled Eli to his feet, all the better to kiss him, then pushed him gently back down. “Watch the sun rise. Commune with the wonders of the Chicago skyline. I'll be back soon with a sheaf of what will no doubt be junk mail, and we'll pick up where we left off. I promise.”

* * * * *

Not quite as promised. The slam of the apartment door jolted Eli out of a reverie he'd fallen into watching the sun and the city. Chicago. No place like it on earth.

He checked his watch. Eleven minutes. “Faster than I expected,” he called to Zane.

Zane did not respond. He carried a thicker stack of mail than Eli would have expected, three or four days' worth, and slapped it down one piece at a time on the end table by the couch. His lips were pressed together in a thin white line.

Eli struggled to sit up straighter. “Christ. Zane, what happened down there?” The worst flashed through his mind. Harassed for dual male sex shouts keeping the neighbors awake. Maybe he'd been threatened. “Zane, talk to me.”

Zane ignored him. “Bill,” he said, waving one envelope in the air. Down it went. “Bill. Flyer for the new Cantonese delivery place. Please donate to our political campaign.”
Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eli couldn't help noticing more than a few pieces went down without comment. He'd have asked if Zane hadn't stopped at the very last one, a thin envelope addressed by hand, its ragged edges already proving it'd been opened. He wondered, for half a panicked second, if it was a note from Kazaran. The old guy could be devious when he wanted, and Eli wouldn't have put it past someone to offer Zane's place as a backup address when the earlier sign-for-delivery had gone ignored.

Turned out that wasn't the case. It was worse.

Zane threw the envelope at Eli. It flew with surprising velocity. Something heavier inside. A photo? “Want to explain this?”

Eli kept one eye on Zane, concerned, while he checked the postmark. Not North Carolina, thank Christ. New York. What the hell in New York could have—

Oh.
The photograph fell out of the envelope and ended faceup on Eli's lap. He'd never seen this face before with his own eyes, and she was older than Zane had described her, but all the elements were there: startling green eyes fringed in dark lashes, loose black braids falling over the shoulders of a pristine white chef's uniform. A smile that was bright enough to light up the world, and more than a hint of delighted mischief in the dimples of her cheeks.

Be damned if Holly's husband wasn't as good with computers as he claimed.

Damned indeed.

No letter lurked inside. Eli checked the back of the photo.

I have missed you and your crazy American bullshit, Zane. I never thought to hear from you again. How did you find me? I am in New York. Call me, or visit. I will cook you better food than I served in Paris, and there will be no strawberries, that I promise.

In fond memories of good times,

Yvonne

“It's a pretty name,” Eli heard himself say. “She's beautiful.”

“No shit she's beautiful. I told you so.” Zane jerked the photo out of Eli's hands and tossed it behind him. “What the hell were you thinking, contacting her?”

“For one, that you'd be glad to hear from her.” Eli could feel cold iron settling into his backbone. “I wanted her to know what a good man you'd become.”

“Fuck.” Zane sat heavily on the couch arm, far out of Eli's reach. He suddenly looked older than his years, not younger. “When?”

“When do you think? When I thought you might not be here that much longer. I got Keith to look her up. Guess he's better at what he does than I'd thought.”

Zane made a disgusted noise and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Eli, I swear to God. You had no right.”

“Excuse the fuck out of me. I thought you were dying. Maybe already dead. So she wants to hear from you. I'd figured this would make you
happy
. The way you spoke of her, I could hear and feel how much you missed Yvonne.” Eli could see Yvonne's picture lying on the carpet behind Zane, faceup, still smiling in that moment frozen in time. “Your turn. Why's this got you so mad?”

“Not mad. Just—” Zane rubbed his forehead. “I told you about her to get some closure. Not because I was yearning for her. What, do you think that now I've had my jollies getting ass fucked that I'm going to go running straight for some Parisienne—”

Eli had a hard time believing his ears. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

Zane's chin came up, making what he said an appallingly obvious lie. “No.”

“Sure. I'm fooled.” Eli stood and moved toward Zane. Zane held his ground. Definitely in a fighting mood. “Why? What changed? Twelve minutes ago all was right with the world. I'm not planning on sending you to Yvonne, and I'm sure as hell not giving you up.”

“Even for Duke University?” Zane crossed his arms and gritted his teeth with a
clack
. He nodded stiffly at the haphazardly fallen stack of mail.

Eli glanced and sighed. Figured.
Never tell yourself you're out of the woods until you're picking your teeth with the splinters
. A letter from Kazaran to Eli at Immaculate Grace, redirected here, just as he'd feared. “I'm not pursuing the job.”

Wrong thing to say. Zane pounced with the precise surgical coolness of a scalpel. “Then Kazaran did offer you a good chance. Don't lie to me. Did he?”