Lost

By GA Hauser

For nine months Gunner Crosby had played nursemaid to his partner Louis, who was dying of cancer. Although he and Louis had only been dating a short while when Louis was diagnosed with testicular cancer, what was Gunner going to do? Leave him? Gunner didn’t have the heart. So he played it out...to the bitter end.
At one of Louis’ doctor’s appointments, Gunner met a man. A man who had the body of a Greek god, golden hair, and the bluest eyes Gunner had ever seen.
Lief Constantine was a personal trainer, and his life was fitness. He ran marathons, was an ironman athlete, and trained the Hollywood elite when they needed to bulk up or trim down. Lief was gaining popularity in the fitness business in LA because he did not use steroids, and got fast results with his grueling regiment of working out and a strict diet.
Lief knew after the next event, the triathlon, if he placed in the top ten, endorsements would follow, and Lief could begin selling his own line of workout clothing and healthy food supplements.
That was, until the doctor found a lump on Lief’s testicle during a routine physical exam.
When Gunner met Lief he never imagined falling for a guy who may end up just as sick as Louis had been. But Gunner wasn’t the type of individual to cut and run, so when Lief gets some depressing news about his health, Gunner is at a loss.
And if Gunner thinks he’s lost, Lief is in permanent denial.
Each man acting out the part of feeling normal in what may be a tragic play.
Lost.
It’s that sinking sensation you get when all hope is sucked out of you.
But with that loss sometimes comes inner strength. And with the right love and support, even what seems like the impossible outcome can be overcome.
Lost.
Sometimes you have to lose a little of yourself, to bring another into the light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: Feb 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310787287

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

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LOST

By

G.A.HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2015

LOST

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2015

Cover photographer: Dennis Dean

ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1508449706

© The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

March 2015

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About the photographer:

Dennis Dean Images

Dennis Dean continues to make his mark as an internationally known photographer. He is credited for his creative abilities, strong composition, and dramatic lighting. Dennis’s work has earned numerous awards and has been featured in several gay magazines and in a plethora of art publications, including G. A. Hauser erotic novels, as well as countless exhibitions, including two in London at the Adonis Art Gallery.

Also, look for his work of eye-catching images with the apparel brand, Ruff Riders www.theruffrider.com.

See more of his work at www.dennisdean.com.

Chapter 1

Lief Constantine caught his breath after running the stairs of his apartment house. At twenty-eight he was at the peak of his fitness level, training for both the ironman triathlon events and marathons. Fitness was his life.

Six flights up and down. His thighs were on fire. He sat for a moment, catching his breath, leaning against the wall, and wanted to do it two more times before showering and preparing a protein smoothie.

Getting to his feet, Lief trotted down the stairs and once at the bottom, sprinted up and down again twice, pushing his body as fast as he could bear it. His wristwatch timing his efforts, Lief couldn’t surpass his fastest time, which was his first, and knew he was spent. He opened the stairwell door and dug for his key from his gym shorts pocket.

Once inside his one-bedroom apartment on the sixth floor of the building, one which overlooked the street and homes across from it, Lief took his shirt off and stood in front of the full length mirror behind the door in his bedroom. He flexed his arms and shaven chest and then looked at his legs. His thighs were gleaming with sweat, as was the rest of him, and drops began to run down his nose and temples.

He toed off his running shoes, removed his socks and shorts, and walked naked to the kitchen. Before he blended the smoothie, he used a paper towel to wipe at his face and neck, still catching his breath. Then he began adding ingredients to the concoction of protein powder, yoghurt, coconut milk, and dried kale.

As it whizzed, he used his forearm to catch a running drop of sweat. The drink blended, Lief poured half into a tall glass and stood by the window, looking down at the street and passing cars while he drank.

It was six a.m. on Saturday and although he was a personal trainer and yoga instructor, he worked for himself and scheduled his own hours. If he wanted weekends off he took them unless a special client needed him. Lief went to private homes, training the rich and sometimes famous celebrities who had their own equipment and preferred the privacy of their homes to the crowded fitness centers.

He kept his ‘A-list’ of names confidential, preferred training men, but Lief had a few women clients, and was even offered to model and create his own line of clothing and energy food products if he did well in the next triathlon competition; an idea he was considering since it would make him enough money to buy a mansion in Beverly Hills. He was saving up for a down payment.

Slowly his reputation was growing, and what had once been an effort to get clients by mere word of mouth at a gym, Lief now needed to think about hiring someone to keep his schedule organized and deal with his finances.

As his heart rate returned to normal and the sweat dried on his skin, Lief finished half of the blender’s contents and set the glass in the sink. He leaned over his cell phone which he had left on the kitchen counter, and looked at the missed calls and text messages. Most were from his clients, cancelling, scheduling, asking him for advice…and a few were from his friends, wondering when he was going to come out for a drink.

Since he was still cooling off and would continue to sweat if he showered too quickly, he picked up the phone and dialed his good buddy, Alfie.

Hey, Lief.

Alf, what’s up? Lief used the speaker setting on his phone so he could clean up the kitchen while he spoke.

Just wondering if you’re free tonight and want to hit a club? Are you training for something? Or is that crazy to ask?

Laughing, Lief put the second half of his smoothie into plastic cup with a lid to refrigerate, and said, I’m in training three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year, dude.

I know! But come on, one night?

Lief leaned his elbows over the phone so he didn’t have to shout across the room. Where’re you going?

Dunno. I was going to see if anyone knew of something special going on. It’s Saturday night, after all.

Ask Harry. He always has his head tuned into the club scene. I don’t keep track like he does.

Okay. I’ll text ya where we’ll be. Take a fucking break and come out and relax.

Hey, I’m relaxed. I have fun.

Uh huh…catch ya later.

Lief disconnected the call and then stood with his phone and added the new appointments and cancellations to his calendar. By the time he had finished he was cooled off and began walking to the bedroom. He set the phone on his nightstand and headed to the bathroom, scratching at the nubs of his shaved chest and pubes. He met his blue eyes in the mirror, ran his hand over his damp blond hair and then stepped into the tub to wash.

~

Anxiety twisting his gut, Gunner Crosby waited.

Sitting in a hard plastic chair, his fingers interlaced, he ignored the movement around him of interns, nurses, doctors, and patients. He ran his hand through his hair nervously and checked the time on his gold watch. It was nearing seven.

Sitting up, Gunner glanced around and wondered how long it would be before anyone talked to him about Louis. No, he wasn’t Louis’ husband but he was his boy-‘friend’. Didn’t that mean anything in LA?

He looked down at his shoes and thought they needed polishing.

Mr Crosby?

Gunner jumped to his feet at seeing Louis’ oncologist, Dr Fletcher. He didn’t like the expression on the man’s face and felt his stomach pinch even more.

The doctor gently moved Gunner to speak privately. The cancer isn’t responding to the radiation or chemo…

Gunner rubbed his forehead and his insides felt like a ball of ice.

We have a few clinical trials available, but these sometimes have waiting lists and we both want what’s best for Louis.

Can I see him?

Yes. We’ve discussed his options but he wanted your input.

Gunner followed Dr Fletcher to Louis’ room. Gunner thought Louis looked pale, but what did he expect after such lousy news?

Gunner reached for Louis’ hand and it felt cool but not icy.

So, he told ya? Louis asked Gunner.

Yes. Louis, you know my recommendation would be to try anything. Even if it’s experimental.

Louis smiled. I told the doc you’d say that. Louis coughed and Gunner cringed at seeing him fade away.

The doctor stood opposite Gunner and held a chart. It’s up to you, Louis. There are a few promising new treatments out there. I can try to get you in.

Yes, Gunner said before Louis answered.

Louis laughed. Okay, doc. I know arguing with Gun isn’t easy.

Good. I’ll keep you informed.

Gunner asked, Can he come home now?

Yes. He may feel a little nausea, but that’s to be expected. The doctor wrote on his paperwork. I’ll be in touch. Meanwhile, just rest, Louis. If you feel ill, don’t hesitate to call or come in.

After the doctor left, Louis muttered, If I feel ill?

I know, babe. Where are your clothes?

In there.

Gunner opened a cabinet and removed Louis’ items. He brought the pile to the bed as Louis sat up, pale, skinny, and certainly not the man Gunner had begun dating almost a year ago. Louis allowed his hospital gown to drop to the bed and Gunner helped him put his shirt on, seeing where Louis was bruised from the blood tests and needle prodding.

Louis stood up with an effort and Gunner helped him put his briefs and jeans on, then sat him down to help with his socks.

Gun…really. You don’t need this shit in your life. You—

Shut up and don’t tell me what I need. Gunner put Louis’ socks on for him then returned to the cabinet for his shoes and jacket. Louis looked like hell, not only from the cancer kicking his ass, but from the emotional strain.

Once Gunner had put Louis’ jacket on, he held him at arm’s length and said, Look at me.

It took a moment, but Louis did.

You will get through this. We will find a treatment that will work. Right now you just have to give your body time to—

Gunner.

Gunner was not willing to accept defeat. He held Louis by his elbow and began walking him out of the hospital room.

Gunner…I’m dying.

Shut up. Don’t say shit like that. Seriously, Louis. Gunner stopped him before they reached the hall. Most of this battle is mental. Gunner touched his own head. You give up, you go. You fight, you stay.

I’m tired. I’ve been fighting this bullshit since they found the lump in my balls. Gunner, you and I have to face reality—

Gunner held up his hand and closed his eyes. Stop. Let me get you home.

Louis gave up on arguing. He rarely won when it came to the cancer and treatment of it. Which car did you bring to take me home?

Gunner smiled. The ‘67 Ferrari.

Love that one. Louis coughed and then smiled. The perks of loving a man who sells fabulous vintage cars.

Hopefully not the only perk. Gunner kissed Louis’ cheek and led him to the exit.

Once they were outside, Gunner stopped Louis and said, Stay here. I’ll bring the car.

Louis leaned back against one of the columns near the hospital entrance.

Gunner jogged to the parking lot, his worry growing. He climbed into the sleek classic car and it started up with a roar of power. He backed out of the space and pulled right up to where Louis was waiting.

He leaned over to open the low slung door and Louis climbed in like he was eighty years old. Gunner knew the reality, he just wasn’t ready to let Louis go.

~

Lief Constantine…well, well…the man, the legend.

Lief narrowed his eyes at his buddy Harry and sat at the table Harry and Alfie occupied. Don’t act as if I don’t hang out with you two morons. You know I do.

Alfie picked up his drink, which was usually a martini of some kind, and said, When you aren’t touching the fabulous physiques of the rich and famous.

Touching them? Lief laughed and the waiter appeared by their table in the crowded room.

Did you want a drink? he asked.

Just water for now, no ice. He noticed a menu on the table. Did you guys order?

We know what we want but we haven’t ordered. Alfie held up his glass. Another dirty martini, please.

I’ll come back with your drinks and let you decide. The waiter took Alfie’s empty glass and left.

Water? Harry leaned his elbows on the table. Are you kidding?

Lief slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and held up a packet. No. Water and this.

Harry took the little powder packet to inspect. Okay, what are you training for? Harry tossed the packet on the table.

As Lief removed his jacket he said, The triathlon.

Christ, look at your arms. Alfie shook his head. There’s not an ounce of fat on you.

And I intend to keep it that way. Lief looked up when the waiter brought his water and Alfie’s drink.

Here you go. Have you decided on what you’re having for dinner, gentlemen?

As his friends ordered Lief shook the protein powder into the water and checked out the selection. When it was his turn, he said, The broiled ahi tuna, no oil, no butter…and the steamed asparagus.

Anything to start?

The garden salad, with avocado, and no dressing, just lemon, on the side.

The waiter nodded and left.

While Lief stirred his drink to mix the powder he found both his friends looking at him. What?

You make me feel fat. Alfie sipped his drink.

And you’re going to make yourself sick. Harry shook his head. Do you do steroids?

No! Are you kidding me? I don’t do anything toxic. Lief sipped his drink.

Don’t you need carbs? Alfie asked.

Will you let me train? Besides, who’s the expert in fitness, you or me?

Harry shook his head. Be careful, Lief, you’re pushing yourself physically very hard.

What do you think it takes to win a triathlon, Harry? Lief gestured to the fried appetizers the men had ordered previous to him arriving, and their high caloric alcohol drinks. If you want me to give you private lessons on diet and nutrition, hire me.

Alfie said, Well, you look amazing.

I think he looks too thin.

Lief replied, I’m getting a complete physical before I do the race. Okay? So lighten up. I came out to have fun tonight, not get a lecture from two men who get winded climbing a flight of stairs.

Hey. Alfie went to slap Lief playfully. Who else would be there for you to hand off your drinks when you’re running marathons? Us!

True. Lief laughed and sipped his protein mixture.

~

Gunner made sure Louis was comfortable in bed. He propped Louis up on pillows, the TV remote in his hand, and had cooked a light meal that Louis barely touched.

Once Gunner cleaned up the kitchen, he sat on the bed beside Louis and leaned on his shoulder, watching the television which was broadcasting the local weather at the moment. Do you need anything?

Maybe the anti-nausea pills. Even eating that little bit made me feel queasy.

Okay. Gunner hopped out of bed and then asked, Any pain?

Maybe another vicodin.

Gunner nodded and left the room, then he opened a cabinet in the kitchen. He had moved Louis into his home when he became too ill to take care of himself. He wasn’t ready to cohabitate with Louis, but what was he supposed to do? He took the pill bottles into the bedroom and noticed Louis sinking low on the bed, his eyes closed.

Gunner sat on the bed and touched Louis’ hand. Here are your pills.

Louis opened his eyes slowly and even sitting up to take the medication seemed to tax his strength. Gunner grew more concerned with every passing day. He held the two pills, reached to the nightstand beside Louis for the plastic water bottle with the straw, and held it for him as he tried to swallow the pills. He did with a struggle and a gag, then slipped lower on the bed and pulled the blanket up as if he was cold.

Gunner reached for a second blanket which was folded at the foot of the bed and covered Louis with it. After letting Louis rest, Gunner lowered the TV and cuddled against him.

Gun?

What, babe?

I’ve decided no more trials. No more drugs.

No. Louis…

Gunner…please. Let me go.

Gunner winced and held onto Louis more tightly. Please. Don’t give up. We have options…

With an effort, Louis turned to face Gunner. All it will do is give me a few weeks, or maybe a month. Gunner. Please. I can’t keep this up. Let me stay in the hospice. I can’t have you playing nursemaid to me when I begin shitting my pants.

Oh, God. Gunner felt his emotions rising to tears. I can hire a male nurse…if you don’t want—

If you were in agony…if you knew you were dying…what would you do?

Louis, you’re only twenty-eight. You can fight this.

I’ve tried. They caught it too late. You know that. I was diagnosed at stage three, Gun…They already cut me up, dosed me with poison…made me feel so sick… Louis’ eyes appeared glossy. You have so much to give a guy. Gunner, you’re amazing. I can’t stand watching you suffer, seeing the light fade from your eyes. It’s as bad as the chemo.

Stop worrying about me. That’s absurd. Gunner caressed Louis’ rough jaw.

Louis coughed and covered his mouth, in obvious pain.

Gunner cringed and knew he couldn’t give Louis all the care he needed by himself, but was willing to hire a full time caregiver. If Louis allowed him.

Tomorrow… Louis regained his breath after a coughing bout. I will go into a hospice center.

Let me pay.

I have long-term disability insurance. You don’t have to.

Louis, come on. Christ. Not one trial? Not one?

As if in anger, Louis threw off the blankets and said, Look at me! I’m already dead, Gunner!

Gunner pulled the blankets back over Louis’ gaunt frame. Stop. You are not dead!

As if he had not only made up his mind, but couldn’t bear the conversation, Louis rolled to his side, giving Gunner his back.

Gunner spooned him, kissing his shoulder. Tears ran down Gunner’s face, but there was nothing he could do for Louis if Louis wanted to die. Nothing.

~

Before Lief climbed into bed he did