Riley didn’t know which was harder—getting Jonathan off the table or trying to squeeze him into the backseat of the four-door truck. It took strength and determination that neither Riley nor Dr. Hardin knew they had. After thirty minutes of working together to negotiate Jonathan’s size, they finally managed to get him in the truck.
Both men were drenched in their own sweat, despite the cold temperature eating at their skin, and neither complained about setting himself up for a likely hernia. One thing that stayed on Riley’s mind, though, that made him fear his friend might really be gone was when he touched Jonathan and didn’t feel the immediate sense of peace wash over him. He told himself maybe it only worked when Jonathan was the one initiating the touch. Otherwise, if he gave into his
