Page 46 of Private Exhibit
The next morning, Devon woke up with a grin on his face. He popped right out of bed, not even pausing to think about whether his body could handle it. His morning routine went byin a blur, and he was out the door in no time at all, strolling down the streets with an eagerness he'd never experienced.
He made a tiny detour, crossing the street to go admire the jacaranda tree. Devon gave himself a few minutes to just stand there, taking it all in.This, he decided. This was his new favorite. It was beautiful all on its own, but it also reminded him of last night. Of Andy. Devon bit back a giddy laugh. It was too perfect.
Devon finally tore himself away, not wanting to be late. He reached the hospital, ducked into the elevator, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he was at work now. He had to focus.
His stomach dropped as the elevator doors opened, putting him right in front of the entrance to the morgue.Oh gods. Andy probably changed his mind. Last night had been amazing, but the cold, harsh reality of morning—of this place—had probably made the man see reason. What would be the point in wanting someone you could never have?
Devon squirmed, hesitating for so long that the doors began to close. He shot out a hand, stopping them, then made himself step out of the car. Devon paused there, eyeing the doors across from him. One day—and in the not-so-distant future—he'd wind up behind those doors. On that cold, metal table.
Not that he'd feel it.
Devon shuddered and turned away, clenching his jaw as he headed for the office. That was the point, he realized. There might be no future for them, but they could at least enjoysomethingin the meantime.
Right?
Taking another deep breath, Devon opened the office door. He'd barely taken a step inside when he realized three things at once.
The lights were dimmed. Not off, but low enough to be a huge relief after the glaring brilliance of the rest of the hospital.
Andy wasn't there, yet he clearly had been. The coffee machine was on, the carafe only half full, a clean mug sitting beside it.
And a vase of flowers sat on the desk.
The hells?Devon slowly pushed the door shut behind himself, then crossed the room, his gaze riveted to the vase. Maybe the family of a patient had sent Andy flowers as a thank-you? Did people do that? It was the only thing he could think of, except…
Snapdragons!Devon slowly set down his lunch bag, then took a step closer. He glanced at the corners of the room before he reached out and touched the card perched amidst the colorful petals.
Devon,
Thank you for a wonderful evening.
–Andy
Devon gasped, dropping into the chair like an attack had severed the connection to his legs.Oh my gods. Andy had bought him flowers. Him! And the man had even remembered his favorites.
Tears sprang to his eyes. Devon's chest hitched, and he had to cover his face with both hands, blocking out what little light there was in the room.Oh my gods. Was this for real? He peeked out between his fingers, then slowly lowered his hands. A grin took over his face, and he had to wipe away the tears so he could see clearly, taking in every detail.
The sound of running water startled him. Devon looked over and realized the washroom door was shut, then saw a shadow move across the light that peeked out beneath it.
Andy!
Devon sucked in a breath and held it.Don't get too excited.Maybe the flowers were just Andy being nice. Maybe they didn'tmean anything more than that. He couldn't let himself get his hopes up. Just in case. Just to be safe.
But—Gods!—he wanted to.
The water shut off, and silence followed. Devon felt his heart racing as he waited, watching until the light finally went out and the door opened.
Andy stepped out of the washroom and gave a start at the sight of him.
Then a soft smile took over his face. Along with a hint of a blush.
Oh my gods. Andy was blushing?
“Hi,” Andy breathed.
“Hi,” Devon whispered back. He swallowed hard. “Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.”
Andy studied his face, and his smile slowly grew into a grin. “My pleasure,” he murmured, his voice coming out in a deep, husky tone.
