Page 49 of Resisting You

Renato wasn’t really sure he wanted to go to the place Foster used for quick lays, but he also didn’t want to go home to his empty house or to his quiet, lonely office because he could still smell Frey there, and he hadn’t gotten rid of his come-stained scrubs yet. God, his life was a mess.

“Have you eaten?”

Renato laughed tiredly. “You sound like my mother.”

“Mm. Maybe I’ll marry her and become your stepdad and spank some fucking sense into you,” Foster shot back.

Renato grimaced. He’d been exploring a whole new world of sexual things that he and Grady had never even touched, but the thought of doing anything like that with Foster made his stomach churn. “Stop being a pervert. And my mother is dead.”

“Okay, I’m into a lot of shit, but not that,” Foster said. “See you in twenty?”

“Sure,” Renato said, but he wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. He hung up, then glanced at the flowers on his seat. He closed his eyes and pictured handing them to Frey.

Would he smile? Would he throw them in Renato’s face and laugh?

Renato doubted it would be the second. Frey might not like him very much, but he wasn’t cruel. He reached over and traced one of the petals on the brightly colored daisy. It was soft and fragile—and he felt a lot like that sorry little flower in that moment.

If he could put a name to how he was feeling or even what he needed, he might not be on the verge of drowning. But right now, he was floating out to sea with no hope of a rescue.

He pushed the button to start his car, then put it into drive, but he didn’t pull away just yet. His gaze roamed over all the headstones until it rested on the one that belonged to his husband. “I’ve never believed in ghosts, but I wouldn’t mind if you proved me wrong right now. I need some help, tesoro.”

But just like every other time Renato had tried to call upon the spirit of his lost love, he was met with nothing but silence.

Renato reached the bar after a long, thorough internal debate about whether or not he wanted to subject himself to Foster. But in the end, he figured any company was better than talking to himself in his empty house.

He was unfamiliar with the bar, but he recognized the name. A lot of his office staff and several of the doctors and nurses at the hospital liked to frequent the place. He immediately spotted Foster’s SUV parked far away from everyone else, and he rolled his eyes at his weird love affair with his vehicle as he parked closer to the doors and locked up behind him.

It was only when he reached for the doors that he realized he was holding the flowers, and he felt a moment of panic. How the fuck was he going to explain himself? Before he could turn and run, though, the door opened, and Foster appeared.

“Aww, honey. You shouldn’t have.”

Renato thrust them at Foster, smacking him in the chest with the crinkled paper. “Might as well take them.”

Foster curled his hands around the bouquet and buried his nose in the blossoms as Renato breezed past him. “These smell like shit.”

“I got them at the supermarket,” Renato explained.

Foster let out a booming laugh as he ushered Renato to a table that had two pints slowly fizzing in the center, and Renato heaved himself up into the tall chair. “I’m glad to know where I stand.”

Renato ignored him as he glanced around. He recognized several faces, and while most of them were nurses and tech staff, he spotted a few doctors in the crowd. So at least he wouldn’t be judged, though he really wasn’t sure why he gave a shit anymore.

“Is this mine?” he asked after dragging his gaze away from the crowd, and he zeroed in on the beer.

Foster gave him a go-ahead gesture, and Renato grabbed it, taking a sip and grimacing. He’d never really been a beer guy. Hell, he’d never really been a booze guy. He appreciated a good bourbon from time to time. He’d indulged on his honeymoon and the few vacations he and Grady had managed to sneak in when they were freshly married and not lost in the monotony of everyday life.

But the only time he’d ever really given in and gotten blackout drunk was after the funeral. Auden found him then, in a pool of his own sick, wearing the suit he’d picked up for the service. He didn’t remember Auden putting him in the bath, but he did remember finding the suit on his doorstep several days later with a fresh dry-cleaning tag.

It was still in his closet in the plastic. He was too terrified to throw it away and too terrified to put it on again.

“Okay, so are we doing the awkward silence thing,” Foster asked, setting the flowers down and taking his own sip, “or do you want to cry on my shoulder about what twisted your panties up.”

“I’ve never worn panties,” Renato mused.

Foster choked a little. “Really? Not even once, just to try them?”

Renato shrugged. “Never occurred to me.”

“You’re missing out. But we’re not here to talk about kinks. We’re here because you’re in the middle of a crisis, and I know I’m a shitty-as-fuck person, but I’m also your friend.”

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