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Donovan paces the short length of my room like a lion and slips his hands over the back of his head. “It was about me, wasn’t it?”
“What?”
“Your father wanted to talk to you. Was it about me?”
“No—why would it be about you?”
“I don’t know,” Donovan snaps, “maybe because I showed up to family night high as a kite!”
“You do sound a little paranoid right now…”
A noise leaves his throat, almost like a growl. “He might just be daddy to you, but in case you’ve forgotten, he’s also my boss. If I lose my job—”
I hold up my hand. “You’re not going to lose your job.”
“That’s easy for you to say!” His lips press together. “You do this. All the time.”
“What?”
“You make me feel like an asshole. You put me in these situations that turn me into the villain.”
“You ate the brownies. All on your own. Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to sabotage you.”
“Sabotage! That’s the word. You’re a saboteur.” Donovan flops back in bed suddenly. His eyes flick over the ceiling. “Is this your room?”
I shift my weight. “Uh. Yeah. My old room.”
“It reeks of latent homosexuality.”
“Huh?”
“You have a naked man on your wall.”
“That’s…Muhammad Ali. And he’s not naked. He’s wearing shorts.”
“I bet he didn’t wear shorts in your dreams.”
“No comment.”
Donovan sighs loudly and rubs his hand over his face. “Ignore me. I’m just…stoned.”
Carefully, I sit on the edge of the bed beside him. “I don’t think you’re a villain,” I tell him.
“No?”
“You’re a good guy.” I pick at lint on my pants. “Hell…I admire you.”
Now Donovan scoffs on a laugh. “You admire me?” he asks dubiously.
“Sure I do. You’re a better doctor than I am. You fuck who you want. No matter what the consequences. You stay true to yourself. Even when it’s hard. Even my dad likes you more than he likes me.”
Another chuckle from Donovan. “Probably true.”
“He went to your med school graduation.”
“Yeah. He did.”
“He didn’t go to mine.”
