Page 27 of Resisting You

Renato swallowed thickly, but that sharp pulse of grief wasn’t there anymore. It was now just a gentle, tender spot, like an old bruise. He poked at it a bit more, but it didn’t get worse.

Odd.

“Of course I’d want him to be happy. There’s no question.”

“So why do you keep holding yourself back?”

“I’m not holding myself back. I’m tired of people believing I can’t be happy on my own. I think that’s a little absurd.”

Auden rolled his eyes. “Plenty of people can be happy on their own, and I wouldn’t even push the issue if I thought you were. But you’re just…you’re not. You’re different now. And you have been for eight years.”

“Becoming a widower does that to a person,” he said dryly.

Auden winced. “I get that. But your spark died, Renato. And so far, you haven’t found a way to ignite it.”

He sighed quietly. That was true—he knew it. He had always been kind of an asshole, but he’d had friends. He had hobbies. He had a full life. He hadn’t meant to bury all of that when he buried Grady, but he had no idea where to start now, and he didn’t think perusing dating apps or hitting on nurses was the way to go.

He blinked and saw Frey behind his eyes and quickly shook his head.

Unfortunately, Auden caught the look, and his grin spread across his lips, sly and almost mean. “There is someone.”

He glanced away. “There isn’t.”

“Sure. If you need to tell yourself that, go for it. But for what it’s worth, you deserve to be with someone who makes you want to live again. Even if it’s just for a night, you know? You’re funny when you let your guard down. You’re hot as hell…”

Renato raised a brow at him.

Auden laughed and threw up his hands. “Relax. I’m still a married man.”

“Happily?” Renato challenged because Auden was looking more and more tired these days.

Auden gave him a flat look. “That’s between me and my God. But I’m comfortable in life, and I know exactly what Grady saw in you. You are hot. You’re a damn catch, so maybe slow down and let someone lasso you.”

Renato chuckled. “That would be very American of me, no?” He sat back with another sigh and hated that Auden had a point. He didn’t want to put himself back out there. He didn’t want to make the effort.

But maybe he didn’t have to do all that. Maybe he could just let himself be open to it.

Frey was off the table, of course. They worked together, and the man hated his guts, and Renato couldn’t even begin to see himself with a man like that. At least, not long term. But the idea of it being something quick—something a little…dirty and hot. He blushed and bit his lip.

“Mm, that’s what I’m talking about,” Auden said.

Renato stood up. “I’m leaving. Good day.”

Auden burst into laughter and grabbed his arm. “Sit down, asshole, and tell me about him. You don’t have to say his name. Just some juicy deets.”

As his ass hit the chair, Renato realized that if he was safe to spill his inappropriate lusting after a man he couldn’t stand anywhere, it was right there.

Renato wasn’t meant for early mornings, and in spite of having lived and worked as a surgeon now for longer than he’d lived as a child in Milan, he’d never fully adjusted to the early morning schedule. He did his absolute best to keep his scheduled surgeries for after eight in the morning, though he knew it was cruel to force patients to fast for that long.

But if they wanted him functional and at his best, they’d have to deal.

It had been a rough morning, though. Renato’s sleep had been shit, plagued with dreams about chasing his lost husband through dark halls, begging him to just turn around and see him. He’d woken up three times in a cold sweat, his adrenaline firing, his hands shaking and heart pounding.

He was getting too old for this. Truly. And he was feeling his age in his bones when he walked up to his espresso machine and found the light on the side blinking. He attempted to brew his first morning cup, but it just made odd noises at him, and while Renato was a resilient and intelligent surgeon, he was most definitely not any kind of engineer.

Which meant his only option was either no caffeine or the swill they served at the hospital because he had absolutely no time to find a decent café on his way to work. Yeah, the universe was most certainly punishing him for something.

When he pulled into the garage, he drove toward his parking space and came to a halt a few feet away to find a very large, bright orange cone sitting in the center with a printed note on the side. He didn’t have his reading glasses, so he squinted and saw something about a hazard. Which meant he couldn’t have his spot. Which meant going three floors up and parking out in the open where the birds could use his car as a giant shit-box.

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