Page 88 of Devoted

Ezekiel

If I’d thought it would be easier to ignore my lust for Sam when he was distracted with work, I’d thought wrong. Turned out there was nothing hotter than Sam when he was concentrating. Than being able to greedily gobble up every detail of him while his attention was elsewhere.

Every inch of him was perfect, and the more I studied him, the more details I noticed. Everything from how his hair curled as it hit the back of his neck to the freckles that dusted his forearms and hands.

Nate had taken his laptop, promising to try and work some magic on it. From the wince he shot me when Sam wasn’t looking, it wasn’t promising, but hopefully Nate would be able to recover his files at least.

He’d given Sam a brand-new laptop from his shelves. Sam had blushed and tried to refuse it out of politeness, until I’d rolled my eyes and accepted it for him.

Sam needed to work. To do that, he needed a laptop. If his brain couldn’t allow him to accept it from Nate, then maybe it would allow him to accept it from me.

From how his fingers were now flying over the keyboard, my instincts had once again been correct. He’d hesitated longenough to check his phone and, on seeing how much work he had waiting for him, had hopped right to it.

I’d set him up at the desk by the window. It hadn’t been in here before yesterday, and I made a mental note to thank whichever of my unit was responsible for that thoughtful touch. They’d even put in a standalone monitor, keyboard, and mouse, along with a long extension cable. The chair Sam was sat in was unfamiliar too. It was fancy, some ergonomic design none of us would bother with. But then again, none of us could suffer from things like backache or repetitive strain injury. The fact that someone had taken that into consideration for my mate, well, it made me all the more grateful for my unit.

I was lounging on the end of Sam’s bed, pretending to read. The book on anthropology had been pinched from Benji’s library not long after I’d concocted the professor story. It alleviated my guilt somewhat to learn about it, like I wasn’t really lying if I was studying it.

It was a stretch. Studying wasn’t teaching it. Plus, I think you had to make it past the foreword for it to actually count asstudying.

Still, it was a good prop for me to have while I engaged in the only activity currently worth pursuing.

By which I meant, staring at my mate as he worked. I might’ve got to know him over the internet and phone, but being around him showed how much more I had to learn. Every minute that passed seemed to reveal something new. How his nervous movements ceased when he was focused. The way he flicked his tongue over his lower lip as he debated between colours. The small satisfied nod he’d give before saving a graphic. How he’d get closer to his screen when something wasn’t quite working the way he wanted it to.

I wasn’t interested in anthropology. Studying society and humans held no appeal for me.

But studying Sam? I could go for a fucking doctorate in it.

I was marvelling at how the muscles in his hands flexed as he typed when suddenly he stiffened. “Fuck!”

I had him shielded in a second. Leaping to my feet, I let loose a growl. “What? What is it?”

“I forgot my meds,” he muttered, fortunately not seeing me. I straightened from the crouch I’d instinctively dropped into, ready to defend him. “Fuck, fuck,fuck.”

Clearing my throat, I tried to get my pulse to settle. Who knew having a mate would put me so…on edge? “Have you got them with you?”

“Yes,” he was rummaging around in his bag again.

“Okay, I’ll grab you some water. You can take them now, and it’ll be fine.”

When I returned with a bottle of water, Sam was sat on the edge of the bed. There was a small silver packet of tablets in his hands. His shoulders were slumped, his head hanging low. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, just shook his head. The packet in his hand rattled slightly.

Frowning, I put the bottle down and knelt at his feet. “Baby? What is it? Talk to me.”

“I didn’t take my medication,” he said slowly. “I forgot it. Again.”

I knew that already. “That’s okay, you can take it now, right?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

The packet turned over and over in his hands. “Because I might have already taken it.”

“But you just said you didn’t.” I was so confused. Had he taken them or not?

“But what if I’m wrong?” His head lifted and the sight of his shining eyes was like a kick to the sternum. “Maybe I already took them, and if I take another, I could overdose.”

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