Robbie wondered briefly how to answer that one.

"Outside your jeans," he finally said. "Thank God. It was on my hands so I wiped it off and when we stripped you to your boxers no one knew."

"Thank you."

"For what? Bringing you back like a sack of potatoes on Catty's back? Or for making you come in your pants?"

"Both. Either." Eli shrugged. "So. Remission. You know about the cancer. Come and sit down so we can talk." He gestured to the chair by his bed but it was too close to Eli for comfort.

"I'm fine standing," Robbie said.

The way Eli's face changed, from hopeful to broken in an instant was one of the worst things Robbie had ever seen.

"It's not catching," Eli snapped.

Robbie stiffened. That was the first hint of temper he had ever heard from Eli. He didn't mean to make Eli angry. It's just that if he sat that close he would want to touch Eli and he wasn't sure the man would want that.

"I know that," he snapped back.

Eli shook his head at the response.

"You don't want to sit here near me then I tend to take these things personally. People don't want to sit with me, look at me, talk to me." He shrugged.

Robbie went with his gut feeling at these words and sat on the chair. He shuffled uncomfortably. What do you say to a man who was ill? Eli didn't give him a chance to say a single thing.

"I'm cancer free, you know. I'm in remission. I've been clear for a long time, nearly three years, so it's statistically unlikely that the cancer will return. Yes it was hard, no I don't think about it a lot, and no it doesn't affect my need to fuck or be fucked on a regular basis." There was that temper again. Sparking and hissing and spitting its way into the self-deprecation and sarcasm. "Now you can sit here and we can talk about where we go from here and what we want from each other or you can go so we don't start anything we can't finish."

"You can't dump all this on me and expect me to know all the answers. That isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair." Eli slumped back on his pillow. He looked better but still tired.

"You don't get it; hell, why would you, it's not like I've told you why I left Australia in the first place."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I already lost one lover who died, and fuck, it nearly killed me. No point in starting anything only to have it end. Imagine what it would feel like to lose someone again." Robbie blurted the whole sentence out before he realized what exactly he had admitted.

Eli didn't call him on it. He just nodded. "So tell me about him," Eli said. His words weren't an order, more a plea.

"Paul? He was a cowboy, a buckaroo like me, and more than a good friend. Lots of lonely time on a station as big as we had, and we were both gay so we used some of that downtime and broke a little tension. Thing is, I fell in love and so did Paul, we even made plans for the future. Took this new guy, a big hulking brainless idiot, who decided fag was a word that suited Paul and me. I let it slide, Paul didn't. He always was a hotheaded guy. One lucky punch and Paul was on the floor. He never woke up. Had some kind of embolism that killed him fast inside. This was two years ago October and I tried to stick it out over there. Too many memories. I stayed for the trial when it finally happened. Then I left."

"I'm sorry."

"It's been a while now." Robbie wasn't entirely sure what else to say. That really was the whole sorry story, and enough to have him leaving the station and find his way home.

"Two years isn't long, you know," Eli stated simply.

"It's long enough. So, tell me your story."

Eli looked happy for Robbie to change the direction of conversation—he clearly didn't want to talk about Paul.

"I'd just been kicked out of college when I got sick. Just really tired and then I keeled over and had these blood tests, and it all kind of escalated from there. Kidney cancer. I was one of the lucky ones—I haven't lost an entire kidney and after treatment I was told everything looked good. Before cancer I was a bit lost, and a whole lot of a slacker. Plenty of ideas and opinions but no thought of acting on any of them. Except, of course, calling Riley Hayes a fucking asshole to his face and losing the only real friend I freaking had outside of my misfit excuse for a family."

"Riley?"

"That's a story for another day. The big C hits with a hammer and suddenly you are told if the next session of meds doesn't cure you then you have maybe six months to live. Amazing the shit you want to do when you only have six months left."

"Climbing mountains, spending all your money?" Robbie was attempting to lighten the tension but Eli simply shook his head.

"All I wanted to do was find someone who cared if I died."

That floored Robbie and he had no words to use. Instead something twisted in his chest. He had cared when Paul died. Cared enough to stay alive and leave. Was it possible there was room in his heart for someone else to care about?

Robbie hesitated momentarily then he forcibly relaxed every muscle until he sat comfortably on the hard wooden chair.

"So I guess we should talk more," he said. "You can tell me all about nearly dying and I can tell you about what it's like to be the one left behind."

"Then can we have sex?"

Robbie laughed loudly at the look of hope on Eli's face. "Maybe we could try dinner first until I'm sure you're not going to pass out on me every time you shoot in your pants," he said.

"Asshole."

CHAPTER 12

"What are you wearing?" Jack asked. He couldn't keep the horror out of his voice. Riley was distracted by checking e-mails on his cell and didn't immediately answer. "Seriously, Riley. What. The. Fuck?"

"What?" Riley looked up from the screen and blinked at Jack.

"Wearing?" Jack repeated.

Riley looked down at his jeans and boots and then back up at Jack.

"Jeans," Riley said. "You're wearing jeans. What's wrong with my jeans?"

Jack didn't know where to start. Riley's jeans probably cost a rodeo purse but yeah, he was wearing jeans. That wasn't the problem. Jack was indeed wearing jeans. Riley was also wearing a similar belt buckle to Jack. That is where all similarities ended. Jack was wearing a T-shirt and a western-style button-down in varying shades of blue and red. Riley was wearing a thin black T and a jacket.