I’m Really Not
Harvey pulled into his parking space at the hospital. He hated Jack Wells with every cell in his body. Hated him. The way the young man kept touching Jay’s hand had almost took the civility right out of Harvey. He looked around the parking lot to make certain no one was near then banged on his steering wheel and console. “Fuck,” he shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He still didn’t know what the hell had happened at the bar. One minute he was there for the support and the next…The look on Jay’s face when Harvey had said they were “good friends” floored him, but what had Jay wanted him to say? Of course they were more than friends, but he hadn’t wanted to scare Jay off by putting pressure on him. Jay had told him that he’d never had a serious boyfriend except for Jack.
Harvey hit the steering wheel again. “Fuck!”
Jack might be a recovering alcoholic, but he certainly hadn’t lost his looks. And Harvey hadn’t missed the way Jay had looked at Jack. Jay’s ex was handsome, more handsome than Harvey liked. But it had been Jay’s track record after Jack that made Harvey reluctant to fully commit to him, or at least it had made him reluctant to make the first move. He’d been really happy when Jay had started leaving his toothbrush, but it wasn’t a substantial commitment. After all, a new toothbrush was only a couple of bucks at any convenience store.
Why had he left? He mentally kicked himself for letting his embarrassment get the better of him. Grown men didn’t play games. He got out of his car, determined to see patients even if he had the day off. It would be nice to worry about other people’s problems for the next couple of hours.
After he stopped at his locker to grab his lab jacket and stethoscope, he made his way to the surgical floor where Ricky McNeil, one of his residents and one of Jay’s cooks, sat behind the nurse’s desk pouring over charts. He cleared his throat, “Dr. McNeil.”
Ricky jerked his head up, his messy, brown hair falling over his eyes. The boy would turn into a fine doctor one day, but Harvey was old school, and wished he’d get a haircut and a shave. He’d seen the scars peeking behind Ricky’s beard, so he supposed the young man had his reasons for looking like he belonged in a grunge band and not a hospital.
“Dr. Grace.” Ricky stood and nervously shuffled his feet. “I thought you were off today.”
“Do my patients get to take a day off, Dr. McNeil?”
“No, sir,” Ricky replied.
Harvey couldn’t keep the edge of anger out of his voice. “Then neither will I.”
“Yes, sir.” Ricky gathered charts. “Where do you want to start?”
“Mrs. Nance’s hip replacement.”
Ricky pulled a chart to the top. “Got her.”
As they walked down the hallway, Harvey asked as nonchalantly as he could, “Are you still seeing that young man, what’s his name, Alan?
“Alex,” Ricky replied. “Yes. I still see him.”
“How’s it going? I mean, between the two of you.” Harvey shook his head, internally berating himself for asking. His intern’s personal life was none of his business. “I’m sorry. I have no right to ask you about your private life.”
“It’s okay. We get along mostly.” Ricky laughed. “Even though we have nothing in common.”
“Does that cause you problems?”
“Not usually.” Ricky stopped in front of room 408, Mrs.’s Nance’s recovery suite. “He wants me to go with him to his parents for the Fourth. I guess they had some big party every year with massive fireworks.”
“Are you going?”
Ricky shook his head, his green eyes glittering under the fluorescent lights. “I don’t know. It seems like a lot. Meeting the parents and all. What do you think I should do?”
“I’m the last person to give advice on how to handle your private life.” Harvey couldn’t even handle his own.
Ricky put his hand on Harvey’s arm, his sleeve raising enough for Harvey to see some of his tattoos peek out. “Dr. Grace, are you all right?
“You know,” Harvey said as he knocked on 408. “I’m really not.”