Page 31 of Protecting his Heart

Dominic’s eyes widened. “What the heck? Why did you agree to that?”

Owen shrugged. “No idea. But he was so happy. And I threatened to throw it back at him tenfold if he did anything bad.”

“That’s not a bad thing for him.”

Owen chuckled. “That’s exactly what he said.” He shook his head. “Whatever. He’s thinking of drinks at a pub, so we’ll see what happens.”

“Did he state which pub?”

“No.” A shiver went down his spine. “Should I have asked?”

Dominic stared at him. “I don’t know. Should you?”

He dropped his head into his hands. “I knew I should’ve stuck to my guns and said no to it.”

Dominic clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Good luck with that. Do you want me to come over for a bit? Keep you company?”

Owen stood and glared at him. “I’m a grown man. I don’t need coddling. I’ve been on my own for long enough. I don’t need someone to keep me company because Evan’s not there.” Dominic raised his eyebrows, and Owen’s shoulders lowered. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s also okay to be out of sorts while you’re figuring out your relationship. Remember how I was with Randall? Adding someone into your life is not all chocolates and roses.”

Owen frowned. “That’s not the right phrase, is it?”

Dominic shrugged. “No idea, but you understood what I meant, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. It feels like it should be easy because we were friends before anything else. But sometimes, it seems harder.”

“You’re finding a new normal. Unbalanced emotions are to be expected.”

Owen backhanded his shoulder. “Unbalanced? That’s the word you went with. Asshole.” He grabbed his bag and headed for the door, hiding the smile spreading across his face.

Dominic chuckled. “You know what I mean!”

Owen walked home despite the cooler temperature. There was no point driving to work when he could walk it in less time. Letting himself into the house, he smiled at the flowers sitting in a green crystal vase he didn’t recognise in the middle of the coffee table. He hung up his coat and put his bag on the floor beside the sofa and reached for the note propped up against the vase.

Owen,

I know you’re worried. But if we stopped doing things because we were worried about it, nobody would ever leave their beds. (Yes, I’m sure you would be okay with that, but that’s not the point.) I had to go back. Not only because it’s my job and I enjoy it a lot, but because if I didn’t, there would be that slight chance I wouldn’t be able to cross the hospital threshold ever again.

I love my job despite the unsocial hours. I love the patients despite their attitudes being less than desired because of their pain. I love my colleagues despite it being gossip-central. I love doing what I do…despite it taking me away from you.

I’ve left you a present in your bedroom. Don’t have too much fun without me. I’ll see you in the very early morning. Be prepared. I’m going to need you.

Evan x

Owen smiled at Evan’s curling scrawl, so much like a doctor’s it was almost unreadable, but Owen had learnt Evan’s scratches as they’d grown. It was like reading his own writing now—instinctive. It said nothing about the flowers, though. He flipped over the note, checking to see if he’d written anything else, and yes, there it was.

I know you secretly love flowers, so I got you these. Feel free to pretend they’re for someone else if you don’t want to claim them.

Owen laughed. No chance was anyone else getting these. They were his. The white and purple carnations were beautiful, and he didn’t care who knew he loved them. Not anymore.

Leaving them where they were, he entered the bedroom and saw a box. Opening it, he grinned at the plug.Be prepared, eh?

He grabbed his bag and the washing baskets from his and Evan’s rooms, and shoved a load in the washing machine, setting it going before he made himself some dinner. He decided to waste some more time by cooking some batch meals. Might as well stock the freezer while he had time, and despite what everyone joked, he wasn’t a terrible cook, he just preferred not to do it most days—hence the batch cooking he did.

Checking the fridge to see what meat they had, he decided on chicken meals and brought them all out. He scrolled through his phone to find a decent playlist and set it playing while he washed his hands and began preparing. The 90s music few people knew he loved cranked through the kitchen as he diced and sliced the chicken and vegetables to the requirements he needed. His hips swayed, his head bobbed, and he sang along—badly—to some tunes.

Before long, savoury and spicy scents filled the house, and he smiled. How could life get any better than it was? He’d figured things out with Evan, they were planning to be in it for the long haul, and he was happy. Nothing could take it from him.

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