Because he was feeling a lot.
Too much.
And he was terrified of losing John because of it. This situationship was becoming too much of a real relationship, and he knew that was not something John wanted. But that’s all Wyatt wanted. He wanted to wake up in bed with him without feeling like he didn’t belong there. He wanted John to choose him—see him—share with him.
But he was afraid that this was all John was willing to give him, and it was only a matter of time before it wasn’t enough for Wyatt anymore.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head. The truth was, this situationship was doomed from the very beginning, because Wyatt already knew exactly what he needed.
Everything.
Every. Fucking. Thing. From John. And most importantly, his sensitive damn heart.
Fuck. I am so fucked.
Chapter 12
John
He woke from the deepest sleep of his life, his body thoroughly sedated and well-fucked. He smiled lazily, remembering Lawson’s hands and tongue on his body, sinking into the pillow. Last night was a sexual revelation. The things Lawson…
No, his mind whispered,Wyatt.
He shuddered.
The things Wyatt did to him last night, pushing him to the brink and pulling him back, had been incredible. He’d never had sex like that before. Never thought he could. And yet Wyatt, the skilled lover that he was, somehow managed to get not two, but three orgasms out of him. John bit his lower lip, skin tingling and body vibrating with a delicious warmth. Sunlight streamed through the thick blackout curtains over his bedroom window and he blinked, rolling over. Heart fluttering, he hoped Wyatt had decided to stay.
He was greeted by a rumpled, empty bedside, and he frowned disappointedly.
He knew he shouldn’t have wanted him to stay, but he did.
He found himself tracing the outline of the place where Wyatt had slept beside him last night, the soft rays of morning sun seeming to suspend him and his heart, which oddly… hurt. Before he could process the feeling, John’s phone vibrated on his bedside table and he sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face and wiping away the last dregs of sleep.
It was Sally.
His heart skipped, and he opened it.
Thanks for last night.
He watched as bubbles appeared and disappeared, and John hesitated, writing out his own text: “I think we should talk”. His finger hovered over the send button. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat up a little straighter, reaching for his reading glasses and focusing.
Last night had been the best night he’d had in months, maybe even years. And he didn’t know what the hell to do about this situationship they were in.
They couldn’t be boyfriends, at least not where the hospital was concerned. It was against their policy for senior residents to date anyone beneath them. Workplace romances were strongly frowned upon. But they were consenting fucking adults and could be together outside of the hospital. And for the first time, John realized that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted Wyatt to be his.
Swallowing the nerves, he was about to push the send button when Wyatt texted.
My friend has an art show tonight. If you're free…would you want to come with me?
The breath in John’s chest exhaled in a sigh, and he smiled.
Yes.
Really?
Really.
I should’ve stayed.
