There were lights on inside, but CJ didn’t answer the door. Gavin didn’t grapple with his admittedly loose morals. He broke in. The living room was empty, but there were discarded boots on the floor near the entry, and just beyond that, a shirt with blood on it.

Gavin’s own blood froze. He could hear swearing from farther inside. Reassured by that, he moved toward it.

He located CJ in the bathroom, stripped down to a pair of jeans resting dangerously low on his hips. He was leaning heavily on the counter while trying to twist to see his back in the mirror. He had gauze bandages in front and back, both bloodstained, and he appeared to be trying to cover the whole thing with Saran Wrap, presumably so he could get into the shower.

Gavin stepped into the room, shoved CJ’s hands clear, and took over the task. “How bad?”

“It’s not,” CJ said through teeth gritted in pain.

Tough guy. Normally, Gavin loved that, but now he just shook his head. “You sent me to voice mail and ignored my texts.”

“Wasn’t ignoring you.”

“What then?”

“Didn’t want to freak you out.”

“Too late.” Gavin pressed his forehead to CJ’s. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” CJ asked.

“If you are.”

CJ let out a rough breath. “I will be.”

“Are you even allowed to shower?”

“Who’s going to stop me?”

“Me, if it’s against medical advice.” Which he suspected it was. CJ was trembling, so he pressed up against him, bracing him against the counter. “You’re bleeding through,” he said quietly.

“I’ll change the bandages after the shower.”

Gavin didn’t bother arguing with the guy, because next to himself, there was no one more stubborn on the entire planet than CJ. So he finished covering the gunshot wound—just thinking those two words made him woozy—and turned on the shower. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped CJ’s jeans and pushed them off.

“Usually I get dinner first,” CJ muttered, but he was ashen and propped up against the counter, all talk and no go. Gavin shook his head at him and then quietly and quickly stripped himself as well.

CJ did a slow body scan, showing more life than he had a moment ago.

“Hold that thought,” Gavin said, and got them both into the shower, where he washed CJ down with warm water and soap until the water stopped running pink. After, he gently toweled CJ dry and pointed to the bed.

Pale now and trembling like a leaf from the exertion, CJ climbed in and closed his eyes. “Don’t get used to calling the shots.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh at the sly reference to their sex life, in which CJ was almost always the aggressor. “I don’t know, man, I’m kinda liking this new meekness from you.”