Solace (16 page)

Instead, dread coiled tightly in his gut, and only one thought crossed his mind: He was living on borrowed time.

Buttercup still needed quite a bit of training, but things would probably slow down after his trial. But then, he didn’t even expect to get partial custody. Not now. Not when he could so easily have fucked a guy up just for saying something shitty. And if the training wasn’t working, that meant Aaron would move on and find someone who was actually deserving of his help.

Just thinking about it made Shane a little ill. He had never depended on anyone else so heavily, even when he’d been younger. But that was before he’d gotten himself so fucked up. Before he’d needed somebody to keep him from doing something stupid.

But Aaron was too good to be that person. Too kind to keep being dragged down by him.

Aaron smiled at him as Shane unlocked the front door, and it was that shy smile that had endeared him to Shane from the start. It was hard to stick to his plan when he just wanted to press his lips to Aaron’s until that smile turned into something else entirely.

Shane swallowed, unhooking Buttercup’s lead and heading into the kitchen to make sure her water dish was full. At least, that was the plan. It was difficult to use her as an excuse when she just headed straight for her bed.

“Sorry about tonight,” Aaron said. “I probably should’ve stayed on my side. Or just picked a restaurant that was less likely to have such… outspoken people.”

Shane scoffed. “It’s not your fault that guy was an asshole.”

“I know,” Aaron said with a small, sheepish smile.

“And you shouldn’t apologize just because you’re making some dickhead uncomfortable.”

“He really wasn’t that bad. I’ve dealt with a lot worse,” Aaron said quietly.

Shane’s eyes closed. Of course he had. He wasn’t sure how long Aaron had been out, but it was a hell of a lot longer than Shane, considering he was still “passing” as straight.

His lips quirked into a halfhearted smile. “Yeah. Sorry, you probably deal with this shit all the time. Didn’t mean to go all caveman on you.”

Aaron stepped closer to him, and that awareness Shane had been fighting for the last hour or so finally took hold. Even though there was still a couple of feet between them, he could practically feel Aaron’s warm breath on his neck.

“I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I kinda liked it.”

Shane couldn’t help himself. He quirked a brow, intrigued. “Yeah?”

Aaron took another couple of steps closer. “Yeah.”

Shane needed to shut this down before Aaron expended the effort, but his body betrayed him.

“I guess I always used to wish somebody would stick up for me. Protect me. I know I should be able to protect myself, but…”

“I’ll protect you.”

He had no idea where that’d come from. Aside from the fact that he was trying to pull himself back from this doomed situation, not get deeper into it, it just didn’t seem like the healthiest thing to say considering where he was right now. Protecting Aaron probably meant responding to jackasses daily, and he could guarantee that wouldn’t always end the way it had tonight.

But Aaron just smiled at him, a smile that said more than Shane was willing to acknowledge. Even before he put his hand on Shane’s chest, it was clear what he wanted. Shane could see it in his eyes, and he ached for it.

He ached for it, but he couldn’t have it. It would be too hard to give it up.

Before Aaron could initiate a kiss, Shane dipped his head to the side, offering him a weary smile. “I’m pretty beat.”

“Oh,” Aaron said, taking a slow step back as if in disbelief. “Okay. I understand.”

Even if Aaron didn’t understand, Shane knew he would never press the issue. That was the difference between them. Aaron was capable of being a good person, and Shane… wasn’t.

The least he could do was try to be one now, instead of taking advantage of Aaron yet again.

He reached a hand up, touching the other man’s face. It was such a tender gesture, and Aaron’s surprise was immediate. Warm brown eyes widened at him, and a slow smile spread across full lips.

“You have your presentation tomorrow, anyway. Wouldn’t want to keep you up all night when you’re supposed to be getting rest.”

He gave a lazy wink, then leaned in and brushed his lips against Aaron’s, hoping the kiss would be enough to reassure him.

It seemed to work. When he drew back, Aaron was smiling, and not in the uncertain way he had been before.

Aaron nodded, then let out a sigh. “You’re right. I have to practice some more anyway.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed. “You’re supposed to be getting rest.”

“I will,” Aaron assured him. “I won’t stay up too much longer. I promise.”

Somehow Shane doubted that, but he wasn’t going to fight Aaron on it. If he didn’t leave soon, Shane was liable to go back on everything he’d said.

“I can swing by your place first if you’d rather go together,” Shane said, as casually as he could manage.

It was a terrible idea. They should just go in separate vehicles, with no temptation to go back to Aaron’s place. But he owed Aaron the support, and he didn’t plan on backing out now.

It didn’t help that Aaron gave him a brilliant smile. “See you at eight, then.”

Shane leaned against the counter, watching him leave. His car was parked out in the street, and when the headlights rolled over his window and then disappeared, he let out a shaky breath.

It would be best for them both if he got used to that sight.

S
hane showed
up at Aaron’s around eight in the morning, which might have seemed early if Aaron hadn’t been up for hours beforehand.

He
had
slept. A little. But then he’d jolted awake in a cold sweat, imagining all the ways his presentation could go wrong. He knew it was ridiculous. At the very least, he knew now that he could focus on Shane and get through it. It wouldn’t be as bad as last time.

But it still felt sour in his gut, and that kept him from falling back to sleep. So he’d brought his laptop to bed and compromised, running through his notes and slides for what was probably the hundredth time. He took a shower, shaved, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and then studied his notes again until he heard Shane’s knock at the door.

Shane was dressed in fatigues when he showed up, which Aaron guessed was specifically meant to mark him as a veteran. Aaron had never bought into the idea that there was something inherently special about a man wearing a uniform, but he couldn’t deny that even this casual style of uniform fit Shane better than anything else. He stood a little taller, his eyes were a little brighter, and he looked like he had a purpose.

It was a great look on him.

Traffic was terrible, and they didn’t get to the VA until about twenty minutes before Aaron’s presentation. Normally he would have freaked out about it, but being up since five had given him the advantage as far as rehearsal time was concerned.

Seeing all the people milling about didn’t help, though, and he thought back to his first time trying to give this presentation. He was more focused now, and specifically focused on something he cared very much about, but it was hard not to let that past failure get to him.

Shane walked up to the entrance with him, Buttercup at his side. He’d agreed to let Aaron use her as a teaching tool if needed, but Aaron hoped he could get through the presentation without that. He wanted to make sure Buttercup stayed by Shane’s side, in case he needed her. Especially since Aaron himself couldn’t be there.

“You’re going to knock it out of the fucking park,” Shane said quietly.

Aaron managed not to blush, but he did smile. “As long as we get a few sign-ups I’ll be happy.”

“You’re going to end up with a waiting list. Once they see what the dogs can do, you’ll have veterans beating down your doors.” He paused, and as if reading Aaron’s mind, added, “I’m serious. A lot of these guys feel like they’ve lost their independence. It’s a big deal to be able to get it back.”

“I just hope we can help.”

“There you are.” Richard’s relieved voice sounded from the other side of the main hall, and he met Aaron and Shane halfway. “When I heard there was a backup on 96th, I was worried you wouldn’t get here on time.”

“Yeah, had to take the detour on Madison.” Shane stood beside him, and Aaron felt a strange sense of pride. “Took us ten minutes out of the way, but it was better than sitting in a traffic jam.”

Richard looked at Shane, and to the casual observer, it might have seemed like a typical, barely-interested glance. But Aaron knew better. Richard was too aware of his life to miss the fact that he’d been spending a lot of time with Shane. This wasn’t just a once-over. It was an appraisal.

He found himself hoping that Richard approved, and when the older man extended his hand, Aaron smiled.

“We haven’t officially met. Richard Baker. Aaron’s told me a lot about you.”

Shane arched a brow, but Aaron just gave a slight shrug. He hadn’t told Richard that much, and most of it was about Shane’s case. It sounded a lot worse than it was.

“Shane Carter,” he said, taking Richard’s hand and giving it a shake.

“How’s the dog working out for you?” Richard asked, looking down a Buttercup.

“She’s great. She’s pretty calm, most of the time, but she’s got enough of a personality to keep things interesting,” he said with a grin.

Richard laughed. “Those are always the fun ones.” He looked at Aaron briefly, then back to Shane. “You might want to go ahead and grab a seat. Conference room’s filling up pretty fast.”

Shane seemed to take that as his cue to leave, but not before touching a hand to Aaron’s shoulder. “If anybody gives you shit, you let me know,” he said, just low enough that only Aaron could hear.

After Shane was gone—something Aaron felt on an almost visceral level—Richard led him to an unoccupied corner of the room. “If you need me to give this presentation, I can do it from your notes. I don’t want you to feel like you’re going to be stuck up there without a way out.”

Aaron felt a sudden tightness in his chest. Richard was so different from his own father. He always had been. Even now, Richard was willing to give him an out.

A few months ago, he would have been tempted to take it. That niggling sense of doubt still existed, but he managed to push it aside and offered Richard a smile that wasn’t forced.

“I think I’ll be okay, but thank you.”

Richard nodded, clapping him gently on the back. He looked toward the conference room, toward the door that had shut behind Shane and Buttercup.

“He seems like a good man,” Richard said simply.

“He is.”

And that was all Richard said about it. Just a few words of approval. Words Aaron craved. Words that helped him get his head in the right place for the presentation.

With about five minutes left, after Richard had gone into the conference room to set everything up, the door to the VA opened again.

“Oh good, we’re not late. I was afraid you’d already finished the damn thing.”

Denise and a man he assumed must be her husband met him in the hall, and Aaron gave them a genuine smile.

“Shane didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Can’t tell him all my secrets,” Denise said with a grin. “Besides, I’m here for you.”

He hadn’t really considered Denise to be a friend. She was Shane’s friend, and while he thought highly of her, they’d only met once. And that hadn’t exactly been under the best circumstances.

Somehow, though, he felt incredibly relieved to know he’d won her friendship.

“I really appreciate it,” he said quietly.

Denise looked around, her gaze landing on the conference room. As if knowing exactly what she needed, her husband excused himself to go and find a pair of seats.

Aaron’s nerves coiled just a bit tighter. Denise might consider him a friend, but she was still incredibly intimidating.

“How’s Shane been? I’ve talked to him a few times, but you know how he is. If he wasn’t bullshitting me, he wouldn’t be Shane.”

Aaron did know how Shane was. He’d caught on to that fact pretty early, though Shane now seemed to understand that he didn’t need to put on an act around him.

“Better, I think. He did really well last night.”

Denise seemed satisfied by that, and she headed inside after her husband. But Aaron found himself thinking about what he’d said.

Shane
had
done better. He’d done so much better that Aaron had assumed that night wouldn’t end when they got back to Shane’s place.

He trusted Shane, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something wrong.

He didn’t have time to puzzle it out now, though. He’d spent months on this. He couldn’t afford to dash away all of his progress just because his mind was somewhere else.

Taking one more deep breath, Aaron made his way over to the conference room door. He waited on the other side for just a moment, then let himself inside.

He couldn’t let himself focus on the staggering number of people in the room. There were more here now than there had been the last time, he was sure of it. But he forced himself to focus on one person in particular. Shane sat in the back, close to the door. Denise and her husband were beside him, and he could see that Shane had given himself a clear path to escape the crowd if he needed. Good.

Some of his own anxiety was quelled at that, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat, turning his attention to Richard. When his name was announced, he took his place at the podium, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

The last time he’d done this, he’d seen a faceless sea of soldiers. Of course he respected them. These were people who’d given their all for their country. But now he felt he understood them a bit better. There were people in this room her dealing with the same things Shane dealt with every day. People he could actually help.

Clearing his throat, he cued up the start of the presentation and began.

“The last time we were here, we gave a general overview of the services Paws For Hope offers. But a general overview doesn’t necessarily tell you everything you need to know. It doesn’t help you decide if our service will work for you. Today I’d like to share a case study with you, in the hopes that it might give you a better idea of how our service dogs can help you.”

So far, so good. He hit a key on his laptop, and the slide progressed.

“Over the past few months, I’ve had the pleasure of working with a veteran who served in Afghanistan. A veteran who returned home feeling unsure of his place in the world.

When I first drafted this presentation, though, I got it all wrong. I wrote out a list of symptoms, and gave him a diagnosis that seemed to fit. But I realized that it’s not my call to make, and the symptoms a person experiences aren’t just boxes that can be ticked off in the course of training. These are things he lives with on a daily basis. Things that affect the way he interacts with the people who matter most to him.”

Aaron’s gaze drifted tentatively to Shane. He hadn’t heard this part of the presentation. Aaron had changed it last night.

Shane’s eyes had widened a bit, and his gaze was fixed on Aaron. There was a question in his eyes, and it was one Aaron hoped he could answer over time.

“I started training dogs when I was sixteen, but I’ve never worked with a veteran before. At first, I thought it was going to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever tackled. And it has been, but not for the reasons I once believed.

I’ve never worked one-on-one with a client before. To be completely honest, I’m a lot more comfortable working with dogs than people,” he said with a small smile. “When I decided to help this man, I knew it would be a large undertaking. I knew there was a chance that progress would be slow, and that he might lose patience with the process. But I believe the introduction and training of a service dog has helped him immensely. I’ve seen the change in him, and I believe that kind of change is possible for anyone who commits to the program.”

He went through the next few slides, detailing the process of selecting and training a dog. Using Shane’s case as an example, he was able to demonstrate the ways in which a service dog could help someone who was suffering from a “hidden” ailment.

“I won’t ever be able to know what it’s like to be in your shoes,” he concluded. “There’s no way I can know if a dog will help you specifically. But I’ve seen what a service dog can do; the difference they can make. And I think all of you deserve that chance.”

By the time the applause came, Aaron felt like he’d exhausted his ability to stand in front of a crowd. He smiled politely, ducked his head, and took the most direct path toward the door.

Despite the fact that he’d managed to get through the speech, it still felt like a bit of a failure. He knew what he’d wanted to talk about. He’d gone over the possible questions he could have been asked, and came up with answers to all of them. And yet he couldn’t manage to stay long enough for that.

Once again, he heard Richard’s voice as he took the podium. The door closed, and Aaron found himself seeking out the same bench he’d sat on last time.

It was progress. Maybe a lot of progress. But why did it still feel so hollow?

After a few moments, he heard the door close, and he immediately knew it was Shane. Buttercup came up to him first, nudging his hand with her nose. He stroked her muzzle, then ventured a glance upward.

“You did an amazing job,” Shane said softly, and there was a light in his eyes that took Aaron’s breath away. “Richard’s passing around a sign-up sheet now, and there’s already a bunch of names on it.”

“That’s good to hear.”

He really was happy that more veterans were going to be able to get help, and that the organization he loved was going to be able to provide it. Especially since he’d become so invested in the presentation.

But Shane saw through him in an instant.

“But…?”

“I should’ve been able to stay for the whole thing. Richard wasn’t supposed to be the one taking questions and passing around the sign-up form.”

“Hey,” Shane said, taking a seat beside him. “You just gave a twenty-minute presentation in front of a room packed full of soldiers. And it’s not like they just tolerated you. They were engaged with what you were saying. It
meant
something to them. And when you talk about this program, Aaron… I don’t know. It brings something out in you. It’s impossible not to take notice.”

Aaron looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips. Hearing that sense of awe in Shane’s voice was almost beyond comprehension.

“He’s right, you know,” Richard said, coming up to stand in front of them. “I could never have given that speech. Not the way you did.”

Aaron glanced up at Richard, and then to Shane. Neither of them had that patient, fake look of someone who’d just reached the end of their tolerance for his self-doubt. In fact, they both looked… proud.

Through their eyes—and through Shane’s especially—the gravity of the situation finally began to sink in. He’d given a presentation. A long one. In front of a room that was completely packed. He’d gotten through it without feeling that familiar sense of panic, and without tripping over his words.

And more importantly than that, he’d given options to people who might not have had all the options they deserved. He didn’t know if the program would help everyone who signed up, but even if just one more person was matched with a dog that made them feel more sure of themselves, Aaron would consider it a victory.

A victory that he’d instigated, from the moment he’d taken Shane on as a client, to this very presentation.