Page 4 of Playing with My Heart

When the bill came, I insisted on paying, waving off their protests. “It’s my treat, guys. I’m just glad we could all gettogether. But the night is still young. Who’s up for some drinks at Whipped?”

Jasper shook his head. “Sorry, but Maks has an early meeting.”

“We’ve got to get home too. We’ve got plans with Morgan’s cousins tomorrow. Raincheck?” Akio asked hopefully.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

We said our goodbyes outside the restaurant, exchanging hugs and promises to meet up again soon. As I watched my friends depart with their partners, that hollow feeling in my chest intensified. I stood there for a moment, hands shoved in my pockets, debating what to do next. It was still fairly early, as I’d said, but suddenly the idea of going to Whipped alone didn’t hold much appeal.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. What was wrong with me lately? I used to love hitting the clubs, reveling in the pulsing music and sweaty bodies. Now the thought just left me feeling—empty.

I shook my head, trying to clear my melancholy thoughts. This wasn’t like me at all. I was Travis Brooks—confident, fun-loving, always up for a good time. Yet here I was, standing alone outside a restaurant on a Friday night, feeling sorry for myself. “Get it together, man,” I muttered under my breath.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts. There had to be someone I could call, someone who’d be up for some fun. My thumb hovered over a few names—guys and girls I’d hooked up with in the past who I knew would be down for a repeat performance. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to call any of them. With a frustrated groan, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and headed for my car. Maybe a night in wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Chapter Two

PARKER

Isighed wearily as I looked at all the cardboard boxes that lay strewn about our new apartment, their contents spilling out onto the floor. The tenants before us must not have cared about getting their deposit back because they’d left the place a disgusting mess and we’d had to spend most of the weekend scrubbing it clean before we could even think about unpacking.

By the looks of things, we’d barely even made a dent in it. Guess I knew what I’d be doing that evening—and every evening for the foreseeable future. Especially with David working double shifts at Mercy Hospital where he’d recently been hired—the reason we’d moved to Chicago in the first place. At least he’d been able to get some time off over the weekend to help move the last of our stuff from home to the big city which was more than he’d gotten at his last job.

I glanced at the clock and swore under my breath; first days were not meant to start with a race against time. “David, haveyou seen my tie?” I called out, rummaging through a pile of clothes that smelled faintly of cardboard and dust.

“Which one? The navy blue with the tiny silver stripes?” David’s voice floated from the bathroom, tinged with the sound of an electric razor buzzing to life. I poked my head around the corner, watching him as he meticulously maneuvered the device over his jaw, his concentration unfaltering.

“Yup, that’s the one,” I replied, marveling at how even in the middle of disarray, he managed to look effortlessly put together—a doctor right out of an ad for a prestigious hospital, his dark hair neatly styled, those warm hazel eyes focused.

“Check the box at the foot of the bed. I saw it there last night,” he said without looking away.

“Found it!” I emerged victorious, holding the tie aloft like a flag. Slipping it around my neck, I attempted to tie a knot, aiming for perfection but achieving something just shy of symmetrical.

David turned off the razor and wiped his face with a towel before stepping out to appraise my handiwork. With a gentle touch, he adjusted the tie, his fingers brushing against my collar, sending a familiar shiver down my spine. “There.” He smiled. “Now, it’s perfect.”

“Thanks.” I exhaled, trying to steady the flutter in my chest. “I’m nervous. You know, new city, new job?—”

“Hey,” he said, his hands settling on my shoulders. “You’re going to be amazing, Parker. You always are.” His thumbs smoothed over the fabric of my shirt, a subtle gesture that grounded me. “You’re kind, compassionate, and the best damn physical therapist I know. That clinic is lucky to have you.”

“Your confidence in me is terrifyingly unwavering,” I joked, though his words did bolster my courage.

“Because I know you,” he replied, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to my forehead. “And because I love you.”

“God, what did I do to deserve you?” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him in a quick embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against mine.

“Probably some heroic deed in a past life,” David teased, pulling back just enough to wink at me. “Now go out there and knock ‘em dead. Metaphorically speaking.”

“Right, no actual killing of any kind,” I grinned, grabbed my bag and gave him one last peck on the lips. “See you tonight?”

“Hopefully,” he said. It was the best he could offer me, never knowing when an emergency would need his attention.

“Try your hardest,” I replied and with that, I stepped out into the crisp Chicago air, my mind buzzing with the anticipation of what lay ahead.

A gentle chime announced my entrance into the clinic. The reception area of the physical therapy center was bathed in soft, natural light that spilled through the ample windows, casting a cheerful glow over several pieces of modern furniture. I paused for a moment, taking it all in—the inviting space, the hum of quiet conversation, and the faint scent of eucalyptus.

“Hey there! You must be Parker,” a voice called out from behind the front desk, pulling me from my observations. I turned to see a handsome young man with an easy smile that reached his eyes. “I’m Justin, we spoke on the phone a few times.”

“Yes, of course. It’s good to finally put a face to the name,” I replied, my nerves settling with his friendly demeanor.

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