Page 12 of Protecting his Heart

Evan reached for Owen’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and closed his eyes. He tried not to read into his best friend’s actions, but it was hard not to. Instead, he focused on Owen’s scent and the feel of his hand, and he fell asleep.

When his phone alarm went off, he groaned and reached for it, surprised to feel a warm body sprawled across him. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and shut off the alarm before looking down at Owen. His head rested on Evan’s chest, his arm thrown over his stomach and his leg tangled with Evan’s. It was the closest they’d been for a long time, and Evan was hesitant to move. He wanted to stay like that and who cared if he missed work, but he couldn’t let his colleagues down. He pressed his lips to Owen’s head and rubbed his hand over Owen’s arm, trying to wake him enough so he could move without jolting the man.

Owen nuzzled his cheek against his chest, and then he froze. His eyes shot open, his chin lifting to look into Evan’s eyes. “Sorry,” he said, moving away, but Evan tightened his hold.

“Tonight, right?” he asked.

“Tonight,” Owen agreed.

Evan wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t push. Instead, he let him go and slid from the bed. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He grabbed his jeans from the floor and headed for the door, but Owen’s voice stopped him.

“Be safe.”

“Always am,” he replied.

By the time he’d showered, dressed and aimed for the hospital, his mind was awash with possibilities. But he couldn’t let himself hope too much. He’d done the same that night, and Owen had broken his heart the following morning. He wasn’t sure he’d survive if it happened again.

“Marie! My favourite nurse!” he exclaimed as he stopped at the nurses’ station when he was ready to start.

Marie, an older nurse who’d been doing the job for more years than Evan had been alive, smiled and shook her head. “You, my dear boy, are a menace. That smile would get you anything and everything you wanted, and you know it.”

Evan put his chin in his palm and rested his elbow on the desk, batting his eyelashes at her. “I know.” He sighed dreamily and then laughed. “How has everything been?”

“I’m not saying anything,” she stated.

Evan knew that meant it had been suspiciously quiet and she didn’t want to jinx it. “Okay, then. What do we have?”

She handed him four folders. “A fourteen-year-old girl in room six. Her mother insisted she have a room of her own.” Marie rolled her eyes. “She’s suffering stomach pains, which we’re treating as potentially appendicitis, but we’re uncertain. Her mother has now gone home. Thankfully.” Marie pursed her lips and pointed to another folder. “A five-year-old boy who fell off his new bike and broke his wrist. Says he no longer wants his bike. He’s in bay one.” She pointed to the next folder. “A regular drug user is in bay five. We have him hooked up to fluids. And finally, a forty-year-old woman whose drink had been spiked and is in bay three. Her friend brought her in because she wasn’t sure what to do about it.”

“Did anything else happen to her?” Evan asked, flipping through her folder.

“Her friend said no because they’d been together all the time, but I’m tempted to ask her for a rape kit, anyway.”

“It’ll have to be her choice, but I’d ask the question. Maybe phrase it as a ‘don’t you want to be certain’ type of thing.”

Marie nodded and took back the woman’s folder. “You introduce yourself to the others, and when you’re finished, we’ll visit her together.”

Evan grabbed what he needed and headed for the boy’s room first. The little guy was holding a tablet with one arm and staring furiously at it. His broken arm rested on the bed.

“Hello, there, Richie. I’m Evan. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” His tone was not fine.

Evan took notes of the monitors and jotted down the numbers. “I broke my arm when I fell off my bike when I was younger, too. It’s not nice, especially just after getting your bike. What colour is it?” He glanced at the adult, who he assumed was the father, and saw gratitude in his eyes.

He didn’t think the boy was going to answer, but then he said, “Green. It’s got orange flames down the side.”

“That sounds amazing. Mine was just a plain blue one.” He tucked the folder under his arm. “Did the bike get scraped?”

The boy’s eyes widened, and his gaze snapped to his father’s. “Dad, is the bike broken?”

The man shook his head. “It’s all in good condition. And if you see anything wrong with it when we get back, we can always patch it up with the same colours. It’ll look brand new.”

The boy nodded and bit his lip, staring at Evan from the corner of his eye. “Do you have a picture to show him?” he asked his father, who dug his phone from his pocket and pressed a few things before handing it to the boy.

“Look!” He held it up.

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