Chapter 22
John
Christmas night
“I’m surprised you didn’t go back home,” John said to Samuels, who was unlocking his locker.
“Yeah, well, been busy here,” he said with an indifferent shoulder shrug.
John’s gaze narrowed. Maybe he was spending too much time with Wyatt, but he had been noticing body language far more often lately. And he was noticing that Samuels seemed off this week.
“Not to push the subject…” John began.
Samuels’s chin hitched to the side, green eyes fixed on his. “Something tells me you're about to push anyway.”
“Well, yeah. I care about you, man. And you’ve been distant this past week. Wanna talk about it?”
Samuels scratched his whiskered cheeks, debating. “Now?”
John nodded, glancing around the empty hallway. They were off the clock, both heading home, and it was the holidays. Mostly everyone was in a good mood, unless they were coming in as a patient.
“Yeah, now.”
Samuels’s hands stiffened on the sweater before tugging it on, ruffling his hair. “It’s…”
“Complicated?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t we all?”
Samuels arched an eyebrow, “Have you started therapy, or is that Wyatt talkin’?”
“Both,” John admitted, unable to stop the warmth spreading through his entire body at the casual reference to Wyatt’s influence on him.
Once they had returned to work, both men disclosed their relationship to their higher-ups.
After several lengthy conversations, Tanya agreed to let Wyatt stay, but only on different shifts until he was fully accredited and licensed, after which they could work together.
So for now, Wyatt worked with Walsh on the night shift.
The other agreement he came to with Tanya was that Wyatt and he would have the same days off.
Being passing ships during the workweek was hard, but having the same days off together made it more bearable.
They also planned to travel, taking much-needed vacations and seeing the world together. John hadn’t taken a proper vacation in years, but now he had a reason to. And he may have impulsively decided to go ring shopping with Justine and his mom last week, so… there was that.
John had also rebooked a session with Miles, the therapist he saw a few months ago, and was giving it a real shot this time.
He knew his job was challenging and he knew Wyatt could handle almost anything, but therapy was more for John, and what he appreciated most about his sessions with Miles was the emotional processing component.
It was a safe place to just let everything out and begin to understand himself better.
He learned that dark thoughts were normal, and physicians often need a lot of support due to the trauma that occurs while working in emergency medicine.
John was working on accepting help, and it felt good, most of the time.
But there were some days when he still wanted to hide.
Maybe that’s why he was so focused on Samuels, because he understood his friend far more than he realized.
Selfishly, too, John wanted to see him happy.
So yeah, if he had to stand here all night, he would.
“Don’t evade the question,” John said, relaxing against the lockers and folding his arms across his chest.
Samuels sighed, “All right, fine. I’m avoiding home because of a certain… friend.”
“Just friends?”
“Unfortunately,” Samuels grumbled.
“For…?”
“Me,” Samuels said it casually, yet John heard the faint trace of emotion laced in his tone.
Wyatt had been right. Samuels had run from love, just like Wyatt said he would’ve done if John hadn’t loved him back.
“Mostly me,” Samuels continued, clearing his throat. “Though he’d probably argue that he loved me, but as a brother.”
“And that isn’t enough?” John asked knowingly.
Samuels looked uncharacteristically defeated. “Fifteen years is a long time to hold out hope for something that will never happen.”
“Jesus, Samuels, I’m sorry. That’s rough.” John stared at his friend, searching his face and knowing he was in pain. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
John kicked his feet out to the side, getting even more comfortable against the metal lockers, “Nope.”
Samuels huffed, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, his body tense in comparison. Clearly, this conversation made his friend uncomfortable, but much like Samuels, he seemed to bear it well. He wondered how much he could tolerate, and if that was a good thing—or not.
“So, what happened?” John asked. “Something must have happened for you to be here.”
“I kissed him,” Samuels stated simply, without the slightest remorse.
John arched his eyebrows, impressed, and then thought about Wyatt, knowing what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of those surprisingly passionate kisses. And if Samuels had fifteen years of pent-up emotions, he could only imagine what kind of explosive kiss that was for his “friend”.
“That’s it?” John teased.
Samuels glowered. “It was a kiss kiss.”
Yeah, he thought, he knew exactly what he meant. It was the kind of kiss that ruined a person. Destroyed them for the next person. And Samuels had done it to his best friend.
“And it was at the worst fuckin’ moment possible. It was at my grandpa’s funeral,” Samuels admitted.
John blinked, “Okay, so… what’d he do? Hit you?”
Samuels let out a huff through his nostrils. “No, unfortunately. Instead, I somehow induced paralysis, which, thinking back, makes sense. He couldn’t exactly slug me at my grandpa’s funeral. And I haven’t seen him since.”
“LA’s pretty far from Boston, from what I hear.”
“Yeah, it is.” Samuels shifted, yanking his backpack out of his locker. “Are we done with the interrogation?”
John smiled, hands shooting up defensively. “Yes, we are. Sorry. Dinner’s at six. My mother likes roses, any color, and my dad likes whiskey, any kind.”
Samuels smirked and nodded, “See you later.”
John turned to him, “Can I just say something?”
“Sure…?”
“It’s Christmas, Samuels. You know, the time of year for forgiveness…”
Samuels’s hand fisted his backpack. “It’s not like that. I already know he’s forgiven me.”
Curious, John’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t forgiven myself.”
John felt the stab in his gut, recognizing that pain. No wonder he liked Samuels so much—they were very similar. “Why not? You were vulnerable—grieving…”
Samuels shook his head, “No, I don’t regret the kiss. I regret that it took me that long to finally do it.”
A deep sadness passed over Samuels’s face, his lips tightening before releasing an almost strained breath.
“Let go or be dragged. I spent fifteen years hanging on to someone who could never love me back, and it’s not his fault.
It was self-imposed. Very likely due to my lack of self-worth, with a heavy sprinkling of childhood trauma and mommy issues. ”
John nearly laughed at how casually he said it, but resisted.
Samuels scrubbed a hand over his mustache. “I will always love him, and I know he will always love me. The difference is… how we love each other.”
John’s chest tightened, and he nodded. He couldn’t imagine being in love with Wyatt and him not loving him back. He empathized, feeling incredibly helpless for his friend. He wished he could do more.
“Thanks,” Samuels said, surprising him.
“For the interrogation?” John asked.
“Yeah, actually. Felt good to talk about it.”
“My therapist is teaching me the importance of talking about hard stuff,” he said lightly. “I can send you his number if you’d like?”
Samuels’s throat bobbed and he nodded, “Yeah, okay.”
“Good.” John straightened, slipping his hands into the front of his sweater pockets. “See ya later tonight, Dr. Samuels.”
“Yeah, text me if you guys need anything else besides flowers and whiskey.”
“Will do.”
John zipped up his hoodie and headed out the front lobby, busy as always, but the staff had decorated it with Christmas lights and hung white paper snowflakes made by the patients in the pediatric ward.
The cold night air was refreshingly cool in his lungs as he headed toward the employee parking lot, excited to make it home and celebrate his first Christmas with Wyatt and his family.
He heard the revving of an engine and glanced up in surprise.
Wyatt, dressed in his sexy all-black cowboy getup, was straddling his bike and waiting for him.
His pulse stuttered and he hummed in approval. Wyatt slipped off his helmet, heat dancing in his bright blue eyes. “Wanna ride?”
Fuck. Yes.
“I certainly do, cowboy.”
Wyatt smiled, handing him his spare helmet.
“You gonna dress like that to my parents' house?” John asked, raking his gaze over his body.
“No, I wore this hoping I’d get lucky before we went.”
He bit his lower lip, excitement pooling in his belly. “Oh, so this is a seduction tactic?”
“Fuck, I love the doctor tone.”
“Well, Dr. Lawson, I’m sure I could accommodate your needs tonight. But if we show up late to my parents’ house, I will be very displeased.”
Wyatt grinned mischievously, “We wouldn’t want that, would we, Dr. Donnelly?”
Damn, this is already turning out to be the best Christmas ever.
All because of this very sexy, very generous cowboy of mine.
The end