14. Ari
FOURTEEN
ARI
Icouldn't believe he thought Warren and I were a couple.
I'd never heard anything funnier, least of all because Warren was as straight as they came, and secondly, because we acted nothing like a couple.
We acted like brothers if anything, with how much we teased each other.
It was absurd anyone would think we were an item.
But it did explain those intense looks I'd caught him giving me sometimes. Not that I wasn't guilty of doing the same. Only now I was sure it hadn't been romantic interest on his part. Merely curiosity.
"How is that place?" I pointed to the store across the street.
It was a white-painted store with black awnings and the name Cohen Mens stenciled on all the windows.
Wyatt pressed his lips together and shrugged. "No clue," he said.
"Oh. Okay. Where do you usually get your clothes?"
He grimaced and put his hands in his pockets. "Walmart?"
I narrowed my eyes and studied his face for a moment. "Are you asking me or telling me?" I said and couldn't help but laugh.
He held my gaze for a moment, and just when I started getting lost in the beauty of his blue eyes and my composure began to falter, he looked away again.
"I don't know. I haven't been shopping in years."
"Wh-what? What do you wear then?"
"My clothes. That I've had for years." He raised an eyebrow at me, and I held back another laugh.
"Really?" I said. "I wear a T-shirt two days in a row and it starts to develop mysterious holes everywhere. What is this magical place you got clothes you wear for years called?"
Wyatt burst out laughing. "Walmart?"
"Sounds magical!" I smirked, and Wyatt bit his lip.
"Are you mocking me?" he asked in a deeper tone than I was used to.
"No!" I said. "Just teasing you."
He nodded. "I guess that's okay then."
He seemed to be holding back a smile. I didn't.
I gave myself a moment to admire this beautiful man who oozed masculinity and made my body ache with want all over, and then I put away those thoughts and focused on our mission.
It was probably for the best that he was leaving my apartment. I was less likely to jump his bones if he wasn't running around naked in my space. Or just walking around in general.
"Should we check out Cohen’s or do you want to go to that magical place? What did you call it again? StalMart?"
Wyatt rolled his eyes, but I didn't miss the smirk on his lips. He crossed the road, and when I caught up with him, I opened the door for him.
"Okay," I said when we were standing in front of the T-shirt racks. "Colors."
"Colors," he repeated, confused.
I bit back a chuckle and pointed at the T-shirts. "Do you wear any? Or are you the typical straight man that wears black and gray only?"
He seemed to flinch at that, and I sucked in a breath before I said or did something with that sliver of information.
"Either answer is fine, by the way. I just want to know what I'm working with."
"I...I never thought I looked good in color."
"Nonsense. Everyone looks good in color. I mean, look at us. You're pink, I'm slightly darker pink, and we look gooood." I pierced him with my gaze, and he gave me a hint of a smile. "We just have to find your color. Come on. Let's see."
I grabbed different items and pushed him in front of the nearest mirror so he could see for himself as I put T-shirt after T-shirt in front of his chest until we found his color.
"What do you think?" I asked, holding a red one.
He grimaced.
"It's a little...loud."
"So? You're far too handsome to be quiet." It slipped out of me before I could stop it, but I didn't regret it one second because the way he stared at me with fire in his eyes was so worth it.
It took the front door opening and more patrons walking in to break the silent exchange between us, and my heart was racing when I did.
"You should think about it. You look good in red. How about blue? You can't be angry with blue. It complements your eyes."
I put a baby blue on him and straightened the fabric without thinking, accidentally touching his abs behind it, and I bit my lip. Wyatt smirked, but when someone appeared in the mirror behind us, his attention snapped right to the approaching strangers and my hand on his stomach.
I pulled back and got busy picking up other shades of blue for him to try, if only to quell the fire that had lit up my body in mere seconds.
What was wrong with me? Why did I lose myself around this man? Why did I forget who I was in his company?
This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all, and yet...
It was so good to feel so alive again. To feel desire. To feel that rush of norepinephrine coursing through me, that giddiness.
But then again, I had to remember that Wyatt was probably not gay, he was my best friend's brother, and most importantly, I wasn't in the market for love. No. Even when it felt so good.
After returning to Wyatt with more than a few T-shirts, I went hunting for sweaters, and we loaded up on enough clothes that we needed several bags to fit them all, a couple of which were full with all shades of blue and one a bright, fiery red. That was a win if I'd ever seen one.
"What next?" he asked when we came out, and I looked down at his crotch before I realized what I was doing and glanced back up.
"Pants?" I said.
"Right. Pants," he replied.
We walked straight into Suits and Ties, and the store assistant took over stylist duties for me.
Thank God, because he had to measure Wyatt's waist and in-seams—of course he didn't know his sizes beyond Small, Large, and Extra Large—and I didn't think I was strong enough to do that without doing something absolutely scandalous. Even in public.
But even though I wasn't the one doing it, it didn't mean my body didn't light up watching it.
Thankfully, Wyatt was too busy looking around him at all the other customers to notice me staring.
Why was he so on edge around people? Was he self-conscious?
I didn't get it. He had been somewhat relaxed in the last store too, until others walked in.
I didn't have a clue what he was thinking. Until, of course, a couple walked past us. A gay couple, that was.
They stared at the specimen being tinkered in front of them full of admiration and appreciation. Just like I’d been doing all day, though they were far less subtle.
As soon as Wyatt noticed them, his pose stiffened, his head dipped, and he started staring at a fixed point on the floor. He barely even breathed until they cleared our area.
That was when it clicked. The awkwardness. The looks. The stiffness. It reminded me of something. Someone.
Me.
When I was kid so deep in the closet I couldn't even breathe for fear of revealing myself.
Was that what was happening here? Was Wyatt in the closet?
"Shit," I mumbled under my breath.
I didn't need that confirmation. If anything, I needed the exact opposite. I needed him to prove he was as straight as his brother and start checking out women or something, because knowing he was gay would make it so much worse for me.
I could barely control myself when I didn't have that information.
"Thank you for today," he said when we came out of the second store with even more bags.
I blinked. "Oh, are we done? You don't need to get anything else?" I asked.
He smiled at me and shook his head gently. "I can get the rest on my own, but thank you," he replied, and I lowered my head, not ready to say goodbye just yet. "I am quite hungry, though, if you want to grab a bite?"
"I'd love to bite—erm, grab a bite, I mean."
Good one, Doctor.
He chuckled then looked at Main Street and all our options. "What are you up for?" he asked.
"I'm good with anything. What about River Rock Inn? I've been meaning to check it out."
"You know what? Me too. Let's do it," he said, and we made our way past the boardwalk to the little glass box on the waterfront, and it wasn't long before our seafood boils and Cajun fries arrived.
Despite the time of year, the sun graced us with its presence for a few glorious minutes.
And for those few glorious minutes, with the bright blue ocean stretching endlessly beyond us, the sun shining above us and filtering through the glass ceiling, and the smell of the sea on our table, I felt surreal.
It was as if I was back in Greece, childhood memories mixed in with adult experiences that made me feel at ease.
Made me feel as if I was right at home. Especially when I looked at him, the beautiful abyss of his eyes.
An abyss I could drown in if I wasn't careful, and right now, I didn't want to be.
I wanted to be lured into it. I wanted to be enveloped in it. Enveloped by him.
"Are you all right? Are you feeling sick again?" he asked, leaning in and searching for answers in my face.
I blinked and sat back.
What was I doing? What was wrong with me?
Pull yourself together, Ari. You're better than this.
"Uhm, yeah. Yeah. Why?" I asked.
"You haven't said anything in a while. Are you feeling a bit funny again?"
Oh, you have no idea.
"No. I'm okay. But thank you for checking. This food is delicious," I pointed to the boil, and Wyatt nodded. "You were saying?"
Wyatt pressed his lips together into a small smile and sat back a little. "Just asking what made you want to be a doctor?"
I put my silverware down and wiped my mouth before I answered. "I always liked helping people. I'm a natural problem solver, and I was always good at school, so it seemed like the path of least resistance, to be a doctor and problem solve the most important aspect of people's lives."
He nodded his head and studied my face for a moment. Goosebumps tickled on the back of my neck, an effect of close, intimate attention.
"And do you like it?"
"I love it," I said. "I just wish I could do more. I always feel like I could do more. Especially here. It drives me crazy knowing there's no universal healthcare and people die in pain because they don't want to go into debt. It's not how things should work."
He sighed and put his elbows on the table, crossing his hands in front him. "No. It shouldn't be, should it?" he said.
"And you? What made you want to go into the Navy?"
He shrugged. "The same as you. Only I wasn't as smart."
I laughed. "I'm sure that's not true."
"Well, not book smart anyway. But I was good with my hands, and I wanted to serve my country. Protect people."
"I can tell," I said. "You've done so much to keep this island safe."
"And look where that got me," he huffed.
"That's not your fault. The intention was there. It's not your fault these people have no morals or limits. You don't see anyone else doing anything about the situation here."
And it was the truth. How was it possible the feds or the local authorities weren't doing squat about all the crime happening in Mayberry Holm.
From the little I'd been informed, either by Dare, Warren, or my patients, there had been a deluge of shit going down here for far too long, from drug trafficking to protection rackets and abductions.
And no one but Wyatt and his men were doing anything about it.
There was no way no one else, least of all the local police, didn't know any of this.
Unless they'd also been bought by the new mayor.
"That's only put everyone in more danger. And I still have no way to bring this man down. No evidence. No proof. He's untouchable."
I shook my head and reached for my spoon. "No one's untouchable," I said.
"It feels like it," he answered.
As he said that, a couple walked past us to take the table in the corner, and they stared Wyatt down as soon as they noticed him.
Wyatt shrunk into himself and hunched his shoulders over his food.
"That doesn't help either. He's turned everyone against me."
I instinctively reached for his hand before I could think about it. An electric current sizzled through me on impact, and my throat tightened, making it hard to breathe or swallow, but only for a moment.
"Not everyone. I'm on your side," I said.
Wyatt stared at my fingers on his hand as if frozen in place, and it was only when I managed to pry them away from him that he spoke.
"You...you are," he said.
"And so is your brother and your men," I added to cover up my fumble.
It wasn't as if I meant anything to him to count.
"Not so sure about that, but yeah, I guess you're right."
I put my elbows on the table too and sat up a little closer. "Excuse me. Dr. Ari is always right."
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Are you now?" he asked in a low growl that burned through my insides like a bonfire, and even though I shouldn't, even though I should be smarter—I was smarter—I wanted nothing but to let myself be consumed by his fire.