TWENTY-TWO ARI
TWENTY-TWO
ARI
“I’ll take a shower. I feel…yuck,” Warren said as soon as we got home after work that same day, and he started undressing before he even got to the bathroom.
I couldn’t blame him. Our last patient had been a puker and poor Warren had caught all of it. I felt bad for the guy, but then again, karma was a bitch. That was what happened to people that refused to tell their friends what they were up to at night.
As he closed the door and I retreated to my room, the previous night flashed before my eyes, and I remembered—again—that I had also not been honest.
“Can’t wait to see what karma has in store for me,” I mumbled and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
He still hadn’t given a sign of life. Wyatt.
I didn’t even care that he’d walked out on me.
I’d slept with my fair share of men who couldn’t stand the thought of what they’d done under the guise of the night.
Wyatt didn’t strike me as one of them. He was different.
I could feel it. Even if he’d walked out, I knew he wasn’t like the rest of them.
Scared and afraid of himself, yeah, maybe.
But an asshole? He wasn’t. I just needed to know he was okay.
Before I returned to the living room, I checked my messages, but he hadn’t replied so I opted to scroll through the takeout delivery app and find dinner instead.
He couldn’t avoid me forever, after all. We lived on the same island. Hell, we lived in the same apartment.
Two seconds after I placed an order from the local Indian restaurant, the door opened and Wyatt came in.
“Hey.” I stared at him and put my phone blindly down on the coffee table as he pressed his lips together, looked at the floor, and approached me.
“Hi,” he mumbled. “Can we…can we talk?”
I patted the space next to me and nodded. He sat across the table on the armchair opposite me instead.
It was fine. He didn’t need to sit next to me. Especially with his brother in the next room over. It was probably best—safer, even—for him to sit across from me. Even if my chest tightened at the sight of him all the way on the other side of the living room.
“What’s up?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
Wyatt leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and huffed. “I…” he started. “Last night…”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to determine the direction this was going. Either he was going to tell me it was the best thing ever—which I highly doubted—or that this had been a huge mistake—much more likely.
Either way, I waited. I waited, and a knot formed in my throat. As if he was holding my entire fate, my entire happiness, in his hands.
What a silly notion.
I was a grown man. No one else could dictate my happiness but me. And yet…
“What you made me do was wrong,” he finally said, and I put every other feeling aside so I could gawk at him and try to interpret his words.
“Huh?” I said when I couldn’t.
I’d expected a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but that was…unusual. At least the way he’d framed it.
“What you and I did…you shouldn’t have let it happen,” he said as if that made things clearer.
I blinked several times, and since he seemed in no hurry to explain what he meant, I readjusted in my seat and took a deep breath. “I’m lost. What do you mean? I didn’t let anything happen. We both…you seemed as into it as I was.”
Wyatt bit his lip and sighed. “Yeah, but you’re with someone.
If I’d known you were in a relationship, I wouldn’t have—” he started and looked to the side, at Warren’s dirty clothes scattered on the floor outside the bathroom, and his eyes bulged.
“Oh shit. He’s here, isn’t he? Ari, you shouldn’t be cheating on your boyfriend.
This is wrong, and you made me do this wrong thing with—”
“Those are Warren’s clothes,” I said, pointing at them, “and what the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Wyatt looked me straight in the eyes and raised an eyebrow in a very pointed way, and I almost laughed, but I held it together. This was clearly very important to him. And it was to me too. I didn’t like the idea of cheating, let alone someone thinking I was a cheater.
“If you don’t have a boyfriend, then who is Evan and why did he message you how much he loved you this morning?”
And suddenly with those words, everything clicked into place, and I relaxed on the sofa.
“Is that why you ran away?” I asked.
“I didn’t run away. I wanted to check on Donovan, but…it didn’t help,” he said. “You’re not denying it though, which makes things even weirder. I…I don’t like cheating, Ari. It’s a horrible thing, and I can’t believe you let me sleep with you when you’re in a relationship.”
“Come here, you big doofus,” I told him and patted the space next to me again.
He cocked his head and his forehead wrinkled as he grimaced at me. “Did you just call me a doofus?”
“I did. Because you are. And so am I for not explaining myself sooner. Come. Sit here,” I insisted.
Wyatt seemed to consider my suggestion for a few moments before he moved next to me, begrudgingly. “So?”
“So,” I repeated.
“Explain yourself,” he said.
I reached out for his hands and squeezed them with mine before I took a big breath. “Evan…he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my husband.”
Wyatt started to pull away, but I held onto him.
“Was my husband.”
Ηe frowned. “Was? Is he trying to win you back?”
I sucked in a deep breath and gathered all the courage when I said, “My husband is dead, Wyatt.”
“I’m confused.” He blinked. “How can he be dead and still message you?”
My lips quirked into an awkward smile, and I looked down at my lap.
“It’s this website. You can schedule messages and stuff.
I set it up when I lost him, and I don’t know.
It made everything a little easier. As if he was still there, watching over me.
Made me feel less alone. I don’t—it’s probably fucked up to still have it set up after four years, but… ”
“Oh,” Wyatt said. “Four years? I’m so sorry. H-how did you lose him?”
My sad smile deepened. I hated reliving those moments when the men had appeared at my doorstep and asked me if I was Evan’s partner.
“He died during a tour. Mission gone bad.”
“He was in the Army?”
I nodded. “He was Warren’s friend. That’s how I met him.”
“Wow. That’s awful,” he said and squeezed my hand back for the first time since I grabbed him. “Not the Warren part, of course.”
I smiled, and his gaze dropped to my hand. He blinked.
“Hang on. Is this a wedding ring?” he asked, lifting my right hand up.
“It is. I know. I should have taken it off a while ago, but…I don’t know what to say. I guess I’ve been avoiding dealing with the grief. I’m a sad case, aren’t I?”
“You’re not. But why is it on your right hand?”
“That’s the hand we wear our wedding rings in Greece. I just wanted to bring a little of my tradition to our marriage. He wore it on the same hand.”
Wyatt pursed his lips and chuckled. “Well, it’s a good thing I never even thought it was a wedding ring because I’d have never slept with you.”
I sighed. “Right. That. Are you still upset about that or…?”
“Or…” Wyatt said, and his smile deepened. “The truth is I came here ready to tell you what we did was wrong so I could put last night in the past, but…”
“But?” I asked.
My chest flared at the promise of his words, but I didn’t want to get too carried away by false hope. Maybe he still didn’t want me.
“I don’t think I can.”
“You don’t think you can, what?” I asked.
I couldn’t settle until he said it loud and clear.
“I can’t put it—put you—in the past. It was the best night of my life.”
“It was?” I dared smile and squeezed his hands.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us, all day. What do you think?”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. Although, to be fair, I was worried you’d gotten into trouble or something.”
He chuckled. “That’s the problem. I’m knee-deep in trouble, and I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I thought coming to talk to you would help me focus on what’s important.”
I nodded and searched his eyes before I asked, “And did it? Help you focus?”
“No.” He laughed. “Is it wrong that I can only think of you naked next to me when our lives are in danger?”
I laughed too.
I’d imagined this conversation going so many different ways, but definitely nothing like the way it was actually going.
“No. It’s human,” I said.
“Then I’m very human right now because all I want to do is kiss you,” he said and moved his hand from my lap to my cheek.
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
He smirked and leaned in. I braced myself for another mind-blowing kiss.
But before it could happen, the bathroom door opened, and Warren walked out with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Wyatt!” he said, eyes going wide open, and Wyatt pulled back as if he had put his hand into a wildfire.
“Warren. Hi. I…I forgot you were… You okay?” he asked.
Shit. I’d forgotten about him too.
“I’m fine, but what are you—” Warren started, and I pierced him with my gaze.
How did we explain this? And more importantly, how did we explain this without making Wyatt want to run for the hills?
“Oh wow. I’m going to be late. I should…I should get dressed. That’s right. Yeah. I’ll leave you… I’ve got to go.”
He rushed into his bedroom, and barely two minutes later, he was rushing out the door.
“Where are you going? I’ve ordered takeout,” I called out, but he was already gone. “Are you hungry?” I turned to Wyatt.
He was staring at the front door and didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
I reached for his shoulder and scooched a little closer on the couch.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
He turned to me and nodded slowly, his face full of concern, but there was also something else in it. In his eyes, more specifically. There was a fire, and the minute our gazes met, it lit me up too.
He didn’t say anything but brought his hand back to where it was a few moments ago, right where it belonged, and pulled me onto him.