Acceptable Behavior (2 page)

Sam set his jaw. “I’m pretty sure I can master the concept of three times a day, yeah.”

The jab hit Travis where it was intended, and he smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Some parents—most, in fact—don’t get how important this is. They never get around to finishing all the medicine once the child is up and running around again.” He scribbled instructions onto his prescription pad, tore the top sheet off, and handed it to Sam.

Accepting the paper, Sam smiled back. “No offense taken. I’m definitely not like most parents. But this little guy means the world to me, so I’ll make sure he gets the pink stuff three times a day until it’s gone. I promise you that.”

Travis nodded. “Good enough. Nurse Janel, here, is going to give you some information on treating the symptoms of otitis media. Some tips and tricks to making the patient feel better. And then she’s going to find a toy for Levi.” He leaned down to the boy. “You’ve got to promise to take your medicine like a trooper and do what your parents ask you to do, so you can get all better. Can you do that?”

Levi nodded.

“Good man.” Travis rose and faced Sam. “He should feel better in a day or two. If he’s not himself in a week, call the office and we’ll see him again.”

“Thank you, Dr. Travis.” Sam’s voice had an amused tone.

He grinned and, with a slight nod, walked out. Sam seemed to be mocking him just a bit, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t his idea for the doctors in their practice to be called by their first names—‘Dr. Travis’ versus ‘Dr. Nelson’, as most physicians who saw adults were called. The men who’d started the pediatric practice had wanted it that way. He was merely the newest partner hired on as the others aged toward retirement. And he didn’t mind good-natured teasing. It did sound strange to call himself Dr. Travis, but whatever. He’d graduated medical school with honors and had chosen pediatrics as his specialty. People could say what they wanted, or think what they wanted
. I’m a good doctor who cares about children.
That was what kept him going during the day.

* * * *

His other passion was what kept him going at night. Travis opened the garage door to his house and went to his Specialized Tarmac Mid Compact bicycle. The beautiful black, red and silver frame called to him. He could have had the worst day, or the best day, it didn’t matter. When he arrived home, he wanted only one thing. He’d change into riding clothes, drink a protein shake, and head out for a ride. Depending on his route, he could ride twenty-five to thirty miles in an evening. On the weekends he’d ridden one hundred miles before, but usually averaged somewhere around fifty.

He managed twenty-five and called it good for the warm spring evening. He’d agreed to participate in a road race for the Chicago Children’s Charity Fund on Sunday morning, so he didn’t want to overdo it the next couple of days. Travis enjoyed philanthropic events, but tried not to be too vocal about it. He’d learned early on that none of his partners were quite as physically fit as he was, and they were quick to volunteer him to represent the practice during athletic challenges. He didn’t really mind. The very image of kindly old Dr. Webster trying to get astride a bicycle of any kind always brought a smile to his face.

Back home again, he wiped down his bike with soft rags before heading inside to the shower to tend to himself. A hard ride always worked up a good sweat, and today was no exception.

Travis closed the shower door and stood under the tepid water spray. He reached up and switched the showerhead to a pulsing massage beat and allowed it to work on his back for a few minutes. When he finally went for the soap, he realized his cock was standing at half-mast and the realization surprised him.
When was the last time I had a hard ride that didn’t involve my bike?
He couldn’t remember back that far.

His last serious lover had moved on well over a year ago. He and Jack had been together for three years, but had slowly grown apart. A pharmaceutical rep, Jack had spent his days on the road and had gotten to the point where he hadn’t wanted to do much of anything at all in the evenings, except drink. He’d enjoyed his before-dinner cocktails, his dinner-time cocktails, and his after-dinner cocktails long into the evening. When Travis had expressed concern, Jack had said he could quit drinking whenever he wanted. He’d simply never wanted to. Jack had moved on to someone who wanted to drink with him, not nag him about it.

It had taken some time, but Travis had finally gotten over the split. Acceptance didn’t come without some damage to his heart, though. He’d vowed to think twice before getting so deep into a relationship that he’d fall in love again. Love was for suckers. Love was for co-dependents who couldn’t stand to be alone. Travis was neither of those things.

He was happy by himself, working hard, playing hard, pushing his body to its physical limits on a daily basis. He was still paying for medical school, but was finally making enough that he’d purchased a nice house and a bike that cost more than some people’s first car. He was happy with the life he’d built. He was just plain happy.

Yet here he was, cock now at full attention, yearning for the one thing Travis hadn’t quite figured out yet.
Okay, so I’m not completely happy.

Adjusting the water temperature to the verge of hot, he then lathered his shaft from base to tip before returning the soap to the dish. With one hand pressed against the tiled wall and the other stroking himself, he closed his eyes to conjure up his dream guy. A muscular, athletic man with rock-hard abs and pecs he could bounce a quarter off. A man with curly blond hair and a soul patch beneath his bottom, fleshy pink lip.

Travis’ eyes popped open.
Where the hell did that come from?
He’d enjoyed lots of fantasies in his thirty years, but never once had the parent of a patient tripped his trigger the way Sam Madison had today. Sam was an impressive hunk of flesh, if what Travis had seen through the faded jeans was accurate. Well hung or not, Sam was damned cute and—
what the hell?
Definite fantasy material.

Stroking his cock, he imagined unbuttoning those tight jeans and lowering them to the floor. Would he find boxers or briefs underneath?
To his delight, Travis found no underwear to fight his way through, just a long, pinkish colored shaft with a slightly purple, bulbous head. He kneeled in awe of the magnificent organ and sucked the crown into his mouth.

Sam wanted more—needed more—and thrust his hips, sending several inches of throbbing flesh down Travis’ throat.

Travis could barely breathe but he didn’t care. He licked and sucked with abandon, taking all he could get into his mouth and inching forward for more.

His own cock shuddered before release overtook him, and he sprayed seed against the shower wall. He fisted his shaft and pumped for as long as he was able, until he could barely remain standing.

The shower stall was full of steam so he turned down the water temperature and washed the wall before cleaning himself. His closely cropped brown hair required very little shampoo and conditioner, but he applied each dutifully. When he felt sufficiently clean and content, he shut off the water, opened the door then grabbed his oversized towel.

Travis stepped onto the soft bathroom throw rug and proceeded to dry himself off. He was finally getting hungry, and had a nice, thick-cut T-bone steak in the fridge that he could throw on the grill and have ready in twenty minutes, along with a fresh salad.

The mirror was foggy from his overheated shower so Travis took the blow dryer and cleared it. He studied his reflection and wondered how he’d look to a man he might get naked with for the first time. Tattoos covered his body from both wrists to shoulders, his pecs, abs, back, and both legs, groin to ankle.

Travis smiled. The tats made him feel like Clark Kent, hiding a secret identity under his suit and tie. His only unmarked skin, besides his face and neck, were his hands, feet and the area covered by his briefs. He wasn’t afraid to get his ass tattooed, he just hadn’t done it yet. But no one, artist or not, would touch his cock with a needle. He was obsessed, admittedly, but he wasn’t a fucking lunatic.

* * * *

Sam Madison grabbed the sack from the drugstore and turned to look at Levi in the back seat of Sam’s Volkswagen Beetle. “Here we are. Come on, let’s go see if Mom’s awake.”

Levi scrambled out of his seatbelt and booster seat, and slipped out of the door next to Sam. He was halfway up the sidewalk before Sam had locked the car and fallen into step behind him. He had to hand it to the boy—no matter how crummy he felt, the thought of seeing his mom perked him up like nothing else could.

They reached apartment twelve in the run-down, motel-style building and Sam unlocked the door. The stench of burnt food hit him immediately. Hurrying to the kitchen, he was relieved to see there hadn’t been a fire or any serious damage done. Just a saucepan with what appeared to be macaroni boiled dry and blackened across the bottom of the pan.

Melanie was sprawled across the sofa with one eye open.

Levi went right to her and curled up in her lap.

She opened both eyes and tried to focus on him. “Hey, little man. How was school?” She ran her fingers through his hair absently.

“He wasn’t at school,” Sam reminded her loudly. “We’ve been at the doctor’s office. He’s got an ear infection, and has to take antibiotics three times a day.”

She waved Sam off. “Fricking doctors, they’re in bed with the drug companies. First reaction is always to put someone on meds. Solve the world’s problems with a little pill.”

Sam pulled the bottle of pink medicine and a separate dropper from the bag. He read the label then shook the bottle and drew the proper dose into the dispenser. He went to the sofa and held the medicine in front of Levi’s mouth. “Open up.”

Levi did, and Sam squirted the medicine in his mouth. He watched the boy swallow, then looked at Melanie. “Isn’t that what you’re trying to do, too? What are you on, Mel?”

“What are you talking about? I just woke up.”

“Right, sure you did. You waitress at the bar from nine to three a.m. You should be able to come home, sleep while he’s at school, and be awake when he gets back.”

She yawned and tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “You know I have trouble falling asleep.”

“I know you have troubles, that’s the only thing I know for sure.” He stomped back to the kitchen and refrigerated the medicine, then rinsed out the dropper. “It’s Friday night, don’t you have to work?”

“I called in sick,” she admitted.

He sighed then put the burnt pan in the sink to soak. Sam figured it would be a lost cause. Tomorrow he’d probably have to throw it away.

Sam glanced around the kitchen. It was a mess, with crumbs on the counter and table. “I’ve asked you not to leave food out like this. We just got rid of the bugs. We don’t want to get them back.”

“Sorry. I was hungry.” She yawned again.

He looked at her. “Did you eat?”

Melanie thought about it. “I don’t think so. I was going to make some macaroni and cheese.”

“I can see you didn’t eat that. What’s for dinner, Mel? What’s Levi supposed to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” the boy piped up, still nestled against his mother.

Sam opened one cabinet after another and finally came up with two boxes of Velveeta Shells and Cheese.
Perfect, because there’s no need to add milk or butter, neither of which the fridge contains.
He found another pan and started water to boil. “You’ve got to eat something, Levi. This isn’t the most balanced dinner but it won’t hurt for one night.”

He pulled three bowls from the cabinet and almost laughed when he thought about what he’d said.
One night? Was he seriously trying to fool himself that Mel and Levi ate better other nights?
They may have once, but, lately, her life was spiraling out of control and he was damned if he could figure out how to stop it.

“Need to go pee.” Levi climbed down and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Sam took the opportunity to light into Mel. “What the fuck are you thinking? You should have taken him to the doctor. The guy was asking me questions and I had no idea what the answers were.”

“You managed. It doesn’t matter. We’ll never see that doctor again.”

He frowned. The doctor had been really nice, and cute as hell. Sam wouldn’t mind seeing him again, himself.
Pipe dreams
. It’d been so long since he’d had a date, he was ogling anything in trousers. Especially now, with the living situation he found himself in. Circumstances were less than ideal. “Can’t you think about your son for a change, and not just what you want?”

She glared at him through glassy eyes. “Don’t you see? I can’t think about anything right now. Robby’s gone. I don’t want to go on without him.”

Fury welled in the pit of Sam’s stomach. “Fuck that stupid stoner drug pusher! He got you hooked and you’re lucky he didn’t get you sent to prison with him.”

Mel tried to sit up but was shaking. “Don’t talk about him that way! He’s Levi’s daddy. I loved him. I still love him.”

Sam glanced at the bathroom door and back at her again. “That kid is the only thing the stupid fucker ever did right. Knowing now what a douchebag he is, I’m sick to think he was the one who kept your family together. It obviously wasn’t you.”

She tried to lash out at Sam but fell back into the sofa, then laughed hysterically. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’d be screwed if I said ‘to hell with you’ and took off. This is
not
how I expected my life to play out, Mel.”

She stopped laughing and her eyes widened. “Don’t say that, Sammy. Don’t even joke about leaving us. I need you. We need you.”

He stomped over to the bathroom door. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah,” came the reply, then the toilet flushed.

“Wash your hands.”

“I know.” Water running confirmed he’d remembered.

Sam went back to Mel’s side. “I’m staying because Levi needs me. You’ve got to get your shit together, Mel. You’re my sister and I love you, but this is
not
what I need.”