And Call Me in the Morning by Willa Okati Read Free Book Online

always been. “I just need to know that we're good, you and me.”
     
    “Of course we are.” That didn't even need considering. “I'm not letting that change.”
     
    “Good.” Zane took on a slightly brighter glow. Uh-oh. That was his “considering mischief” expression. “Fix yourself a drink. Me too. I think we're both going to need one.”
     
    “Do I want to know why?”
     
    “Want to? Probably not. Need to? Probably yes. Let me get dressed and settled, and I'll explain myself.”
     
    “Zane—” Eli stopped himself. “Okay. I'll be on the couch. But if I fall asleep again waiting for you to make yourself pretty, it's on your head.”
     
    Zane's quiet laughter followed Eli back to the den. The warm sound wrapped around Eli like a blanket, same as it always had, and for the second time in less than ten minutes Eli wanted to turn around and trace sound back to source.
     
    He made himself finish the outward-bound trek instead.
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Zane emerged from his bedroom dressed in a soft oatmeal-colored sweater with dark flecks that reminded Eli of cinnamon sugar. He'd paired it with comfortable, broken-in jeans that hung low on his hips.
     
    Really low. He'd worn those jeans around Eli more times than Eli could count, but Eli had never before noticed how low they dipped, hanging off the sharp definition of Zane's hip bones and displaying the smallest hint of happy trail.
     
    He didn't realize he was staring until he saw that Zane had come to a stop. When he looked up, embarrassed, he saw Zane grinning at him with the same old saucy flair.
     
    “Quit gawking at me,” Eli grumbled. “Fair warning, pal. That hundred-year-old scotch you have is going down tonight.”
     
    “Oh really?” Zane arched an eyebrow.
     
    And right back to embarrassment. Jesus. If this was the way they always talked, no wonder people got the wrong idea about them. Or was that Eli's brain working overtime, seeing innuendo where none existed?
     
    “ We're fine ,” Eli had said, and by damn if he wouldn't make it so. Somehow.
     
    Zane seemed willing to help with that goal. Once he had a drink in hand, he hopped into his accustomed place perched on the arm of the couch and stretched, yawning. “Ended up staying all day,” he said as casually as if this were any other evening. Good. “Interns, I swear. The kid who interrupted us twice earlier? He paged to apologize for apologizing.”
     
    Eli snorted. “Tell me I was never that bad.”
     
    “No. God, no. You actually know the difference between your ass and your elbow. After that, I spent the rest of the day at the clinic. Which you knew.” Zane rubbed his eyes. “They're going under, Eli. It's only a matter of time.”
     
    Damn. Zane couldn't have loved a baby more than that clinic or been more loyal to its mission than a faithful hound. “You're a good doctor,” Eli said abruptly and without prompting.
     
    “You're not so bad yourself. Which brings us back to interns.” Zane propped his elbows on his knees. One of those who sometimes talked with his hands, he gestured as he spoke. “The second I laid eyes on you, I thought, There's someone who knows what he's doing. I figure it's because you came to the field when you were old enough to understand the difference between your ass and your elbow.”
     
    Eli laughed.
     
    So did Zane. “I speak the truth. Sometimes I wonder if sending eighteen-year-olds off to college to decide their futures isn't the dumbest idea ever. Maybe a couple hundred years ago when eighteen was actually an adult instead of an overgrown adolescent.”
     
    Eli nodded, rubbing his chin with his thumb. What he knew, but didn't bring up, was the fact that Zane had been on the fast track for medicine long before he was eighteen. Groomed for it since elementary school, the youngest of a family of doctors that wanted nothing more than to produce yet another MD.
     
    Zane finger combed still-damp hair out of his face. He hadn't