“Time for your medication.” Holly startled the shit out of him as she strolled into his room.
“I don’t want it,” he said irritably. “It makes me tired.”
“Omigod, Landon, you’re always so difficult. Do I need to go get Dr. Adams? He’ll make you take this medication.”
Landon’s head jerked toward Holly who held a small cup with his pills inside and a paper cup with water. Seeing the doc right now was the very last thing he wanted to do.
“For fuck’s sake, don’t do that.” His abrupt anger had her rearing back in surprise.
“What happened? I thought you two were friends.”
“And I thought you and I were too,” he snapped back harshly, liking the anger so much better than all that confusing emotional bullshit. What was he doing fighting sleep? Anything was better than realizing he’d never be good enough for the man he’d been crushing on. Landon reached for the pills, popping them in his mouth and swallowing them dry.
“You’re not making sense.” Holly rolled her eyes and left without making him drink the water.
He was alone again inside the room, and he stared at all the walls before he dropped his head back on the bed.
Nothing changed, dick-weed. Calm your ass down. He’s going one way; you’re going another. All he’s done is set a standard. That’s it. That. Is. It.
Right. He eyed the tablet charging in the corner before he closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep.
Chapter 7
“Fuck, Doc. You look like a million bucks.” Landon stared at the doctor’s reflection in the wall of mirrors in front of him. He dropped the weight in his hand and pushed back on his bench as Dr. Adams joined him in the physical therapy workout room.
“You’re at it early,” Dr. Adams said, setting an expensive looking leather duffle bag on the bench beside him.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Which was a big fucking understatement. Robert Adams had fucked with his head in a major way, making him restless as hell until this very moment when a peace settled over his heart, calming his ass down.
“You’re heading out?” Landon could only stare at the doctor who had lost that hollow expression over the last few days. He looked vibrant and whole, ready to move forward with his life again. For some reason, realizing that helped Landon’s heart more than any of his own self-lectures over the last however many hours. This was the man he remembered from the funeral. Strong, supportive, and poised. Landon hadn’t come up with a solid game plan on how to control his attraction, but he needed to figure it out. The doc’s friendship was important to him.
Landon scanned the entire length of Dr. Adams’s body, which didn’t help tamp down all this carnal need coursing through him. He was gorgeous, dressed to the nines from head to toe, and he smelled good too. He did literally look like he was worth a million dollars. Which he absolutely was—another reason Landon should get a hold of his runaway libido. He slid his gaze down the perfect frame, tight waist, slender hips, and thick thighs. His attraction blurring lines and his feelings surging deeper as he admired the man.
“What? Do I have a stain?” Robert looked down at his chest then his slacks before comically lifting a foot. For Landon, this one moment helped break the spell he’d been under and tucked his rampant thoughts back in place. Landon was an average guy. Robert was the top one percent.
“No, you just clean up really well.”
That brought the grin Landon was partial to seeing to Dr. Adams’s face. “Thanks. I’ve been in scrubs or my jogging gear the whole time I’ve been here. It feels odd to be back in real clothes again. I brought you my house key. I’ve notified the neighborhood security that you’re staying at my place. I have housekeeping three days a week. I’ve sent them emails that you’ll be in residence.”
“I don’t wanna put you out.” Staying in the doc’s home had dominated their conversation all last night. It felt like an imposition, and he couldn’t let it go no matter how many times Dr. Adams assured him differently.
“Stop. It’s truly no problem. I’ve also given you my cell number and email. Contact me with whatever you need.” He offered up a padded envelope. “Stay as long as you want.”
Landon had to force himself to reach out and take the package. He was a stubborn guy, hardheaded as hell, but somehow Dr. Adams beat him in the tenacity department. “Thanks, I can’t tell you how much this is going to help.”
“As I’ve said many times, it’s no problem.”
He and the doctor stared at one another. Over the course of the past week, they had spent a significant amount of time together. He couldn’t remember a single time that words had failed either of them. Landon didn’t want their time to end. Logically, the odds of seeing the doctor again were highly in his favor, but he still didn’t want the man to walk away.
Dr. Adams broke Landon’s inner turmoil when he cocked an eyebrow and said, “You do what your doctors say to do. They generally know what’s best.”
Those blue eyes bore into his, but the teasing made Landon swallow the words forming in his throat. Now wasn’t the time to gush out all this appreciation he had. The way Dr. Adams looked at him had him dropping his gaze. This was all too much. Instead of risking giving away his feelings—feelings he didn’t truly understand—he studied the name scribbled in an elegant yet efficient penmanship on
