Page 84 of Resisting You

“I saw you were having a hard day, so I bought you lunch.” Frey smiled softly. “I remembered this one randomly. You said it to Celia.”

“I like Celia,” Renato all but whispered.

Frey’s smile widened just a bit. “It’s doctors like you that make me feel better about the day I have to retire and the fact that I might be able to actually do it one day without panicking.”

Renato chuckled. “I remember that too.”

Frey had more, but he set his notebook down and turned to face his would-be lover. “You weren’t always nice. Sometimes you were downright cruel. You could have done things better. But,” he said when Renato’s shoulders started to hunch again, “you’re also the man who makes sure his patients are in the least amount of pain. You’re the man who comforted a very small, terrified Deaf child. You’re the man who almost got arrested for fighting a cop when they were being unfair to my friend. You’re the doctor who takes care of his entire office and buys your seventy-year-old nurse a cake from a fancy bakery.” He paused for a long moment. “You’re the man who made me realize that I’m not a hopeless mess.”

Renato swallowed heavily. “I’ve never thought you were hopeless.”

Frey laughed, the sound thick with emotion. “I know. And I’ve known that all along. I should have done more than written down all the times you were awful because there were times when you really, really weren’t. And I don’t want people to lose you because I was a thoughtless jerk afraid of the inevitable.”

Renato’s brows furrowed. “Inevitable?”

Scoffing, Frey rolled his eyes. “When you eventually get bored of this. I mean, I know I’m not all bad, and my kid is cute, but I’m also realistic. I know this isn’t for you, and I think I was just being defensive because I wanted this more than you do.”

Renato stared, blinking slowly, and then he shifted and threw up his hand, gesturing. “You think I don’t—” He trailed off in a litany of Italian that Frey knew were curses. “You…” He cleared his throat. “I’m trying not to be cruel, but you are a fool. You know that, right?”

Frey let out a soft ha. “Yeah, I thought we just established that.”

With a small growl, Renato dropped his soda and popcorn right onto the hood of the car, paying them no mind as they fell to the ground. He shifted up high, then grabbed the front of Frey’s shirt. “Why do you think I don’t want this?”

“Because I’m me? And you’re you. And…and…” His argument was starting to fall flat.

Renato closed his eyes. His face looked like he was in pain. “Frey,” he whispered.

Oh shit. He’d done it again. He’d ruined him again.

“I’m in love with you.”

Frey hadn’t been properly stunned in a long, long time. Of all the things he expected Renato to say, those words weren’t it. “I…but. When? How?”

“A while now.” Renato opened his eyes, and they were red-rimmed. “I can’t believe you couldn’t tell.”

Frey’s mouth opened and closed. “How could I? I’m nothing special. I thought that was obvious.”

“Obvious,” Renato spat, then muttered another few words in Italian. “You’re my first since my husband. My first kiss. The first man I’ve looked at—touched. Bought flowers for. Taken home. You’re the first person I’ve trusted enough to bring into my bed. I’m so in love with you, and it’s killing me because I was such a?—”

Frey snapped and silenced him with a kiss. He didn’t really mean to, but he supposed fair was fair since Renato had done that to him first. It was stiff for a moment, and then Renato groaned and wrapped his arms around Frey. There was no comfortable way to make out on the hood of a car, but Frey fell backward, Renato on top of him, and their tongues danced—hot and desperate, like that kiss was the only thing keeping them from shattering.

When Renato pulled back, he cupped Frey’s cheek. “I don’t expect you to feel the same, but?—”

“Oh. I love you too,” Frey said, then burst into laughter. “I love you so much it’s making me feel like I’m losing my mind.” He sat up so abruptly he almost knocked his face into Renato’s, and he scrambled for the flowers.

The first bouquets were bright daisies like the one Renato had given him that night and a few white roses. It was a mix that shouldn’t have gone well together, but when Frey set eyes on it, he just knew it was for Renato. “This one is for you.”

Renato brought the flowers to his nose and breathed in. When he looked up, his eyes were shining. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”

Frey lowered his gaze. He should have done it before, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. He reached for the second bouquet. This one was a risk, he knew. It could make or break this moment.

“This is for Grady,” he said. Blue irises, ferns, camellias, and peonies. “The guy helped me pick it out. I sort of explained to him the situation. I owed Grady an apology for treating his husband the way I did.”

Renato’s chin wobbled, and he took a trembling breath before setting the flowers aside and pulling Frey close. He didn’t kiss him this time. He buried his face in Frey’s neck and just held him. Frey could feel him shaking a bit, could feel wetness against his skin, and he knew he had to let this moment happen.

“I didn’t think I could have this,” Renato finally whispered without pulling back. “I don’t know how to try and deserve this.”

“You don’t have to try. You already do,” Frey told him. He urged Renato to look up and swiped tears from his cheeks with his thumbs. “Can we get out of here? I need to hold you for real, and I don’t want to risk someone calling the cops.”

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