Chapter 12

TWELVE

“Nice watch.”

Will glanced up from the chart he’d been looking over and turned his head to smile at one of his nurse colleagues, Debbie. “Thanks. My boyfriend gave it to me.”

Saying that out loud sent a rush of adrenaline through Will, even though Debbie smiled and went on with whatever she was doing. He’d only just started telling people at the hospital that he was dating someone, but word about it had spread like wildfire.

Word had spread like wildfire that he was dating a patient.

Former patient, as he insisted to everyone who raised their eyebrows or asked straight-out if that wasn’t a bit of a conflict of interest. Will honestly didn’t think of Oakley as his patient anymore, even though he continued to provide therapy and take Oakley through his exercises every night. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew money from Oakley kept showing up in his account, but he didn’t like to think of that as payment for services rendered anymore.

Actually, it wasn’t any better to think of it as an allowance from his lover either.

“Mrs. Applebaum is waiting for you in the therapy room,” Rich, another of the therapy staff, mentioned as Will passed him at the end of the hall. “Oh, and nice watch. What, is that a Tag Heuer?”

“I think so,” Will said, like he didn’t know and didn’t care.

He would have said more, but the smirk on Rich’s face and the fact that the watch in question told him he was two minutes late to Mrs. Applebaum’s appointment made replying unimportant.

Will smiled at the watch as he headed into the therapy room, though. Maybe Oakley had hit the nail on the head by getting him a watch. It had already made him more punctual.

“Ooh, that’s a lovely smile,” Mrs. Applebaum greeted him from her special quadriplegic wheelchair, a bright smile on her face.

“You’re looking lovely yourself today, Moira,” Will greeted her in return. “You too, Henry,” he smiled and nodded to Mr. Applebaum.

“Afternoon, Will,” Mr. Applebaum greeted him with that tired, strained look he’d worn since his wife had been brought in after her fall in early December. “That’s a nice watch you’re wearing.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. It seemed as though Oakley had inadvertently made him the center of attention. “What, this old thing?” he teased, removing it and setting it on the counter, along with the tablet containing Mrs. Applebaum’s chart, so he could get right to work.

“Someone special gave it to you, I can tell,” Mrs. Applebaum said, turning her head just a tiny bit so she could track Will’s movements with her eyes as he set himself up on a stool beside her chair.

“Your range of movement is improving,” Will said, feeling genuinely pleased for her, but also trying to deflect the conversation. He glanced to Henry and asked, “Have you been practicing the exercises I taught you?”

“Just like you asked us to,” Henry said with a brave smile.

Will picked up Mrs. Applebaum’s limp right hand and went straight to work manipulating her fingers into a fist then opening and closing each one. The poor woman had fallen while hanging Christmas lights at the beginning of December and sustained a complete C5 injury. She was the mother of three that he’d railed at Oakley about that first day to stop Oakley from feeling sorry for himself. Unlike Oakley, she still hadn’t been able to go home so she could try to put her life back together somehow. Also unlike Oakley, she seemed to have a preternatural acceptance of her fate and strove to make the best of her situation.

“Are you going to tell me who has you smiling like a young man in love?” she asked Will with a cheeky grin as Will took her through her exercises.

“What makes you think I’m in love?” Will smiled at her, knowing full well that even thinking about the idea of Oakley had him quivery and warm.

“You can’t fool me,” Mrs. Applebaum laughed as Will took her through wrist bends and massaged her arm. “I’ve been here for almost five months now. I know all the gossip as soon as it happens.”

“She’s right,” Mr. Applebaum said with a sad, proud smile for his wife. “My Moira knows everything.”

Will’s chest squeezed as he grinned at the two of them. Moira and Henry were still young, in their thirties. Plenty of men out there in the world would have up and left when things got as hard as they’d been for Moira, but Henry had stuck by her faithfully.

She was an inspiration that Will had every intention of emulating. Oakley was in his heart and soul now, despite the two of them only knowing each other for three months, and that was pushing things. Everything just worked with Oakley, which made time irrelevant.

“Alright, you win,” he teased as he worked Moira’s arm. “My boyfriend, Oakley, gave it to me.”

“Oakley Manfred?” Moira blinked, her face conveying more than her entire body would, if she could move any part of it below her neck. “That grumpy gentlemen who was across the hall from me for a few weeks in January?”

“Wow!” Will laughed. “You have the sharpest memory of anyone I know.”

“I have to keep up with things, you know,” Moira told him with a cheeky grin. “I can tell you really like him,” she went on. “You have a certain glow about you.”

Of all things, Will felt bashful under Moira’s knowing stare. He switched to her left hand as Henry did what he could to help by massaging her right arm and said, “I really like him.”

Moira made a scoffing sound. “Really like him,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Why are you men so stingy with your feelings?” she asked her husband.

Henry smiled at her, clearly besotted.

“Alright,” Will admitted with a laugh. “We haven’t been together for very long, so it’s a little soon to go around saying I love him—”

“Which you clearly do,” Moira interrupted.

Again, Will laughed. He’d dreaded having this conversation with people at the hospital, and yet, talking to Moira about something so personal and uncertain made him feel light about it, like love was a perfectly natural thing and he wasn’t sneaking around, violating some sort of health and safety act.

“I don’t know what it is about him,” Will let himself confess as he flexed and bent and manipulated Moira’s unresponsive arm. “He has so much fire in him, you know? He is very much a grumpy git sometimes, but I love that. I love how he’s so determined, so hard-working, even though he still isn’t really used to his chair or his new life.”

“He was an L1, wasn’t he?” Moira asked.

Will’s face lit up with surprise.

“I told you that she knows everything about everyone,” Henry said. He leaned toward his wife and stole a quick kiss.

Moira giggled at his action and kissed him back. The gesture reminded Will a little of him and Oakley. Oakley’s cock might still be struggling to get back to its former glory, but his lips were fully functional. He fleetingly wondered how much kissing Moira and Henry did…then mentally slapped himself for nosing into someone else’s sex life.

“And how is your sweetheart’s recovery coming along?” Moira asked when Henry returned to working her arm.

“Very well,” Will said, not half as self-conscious as he usually was when people asked him about Oakley. “He’s regained a lot of sensation in his lower extremities, though not any motor function.”

“Do you think he’ll walk again?” Moira asked.

Will fumbled her arm as he moved to do shoulder rotations. Not even Dr. Armitage had asked him such a blunt question.

“It’s hard to tell at this stage,” he said. That wasn’t a fair answer, so he let out a breath and said, “But no, I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has you, then,” Moira said, her smile as comforting as an embrace. “Tell me more about him.”

Will shifted to do shoulder rolls, impressed with how cleverly Moira had danced from something that had Will anxious as fuck and on to a topic he could talk about for hours. “He’s already back at work, though he’s working from home, even though he shouldn’t be pushing himself like that. It’s how he’s done so well for himself. I admire that. And he’s funny. And smart. And damned sexy, if I do say so myself.”

“Ooh, he sounds like a catch,” Moira said, alight with happiness for him.

Her happiness was contagious, especially since it came with a free pass for him to be proud of Oakley—both proud of his accomplishments and proud to be with him. It was like his heart was a garden that he’d been keeping walled up so that people didn’t make fun of it, or him for treasuring it so much. But Moira’s sunshine made him want to knock down the walls and tell the world that he adored being with Oakley, whether they approved or not.

Those feelings of happiness and pride stayed with him after he’d finished up with Moira and moved on to his next appointment. Strangely, having Oakley on his mind for the entire afternoon helped to focus him on the job that he truly loved doing. It was all about the patients, about making them smile, being a friendly, nonjudgmental ally, and helping them to get better. That was what he loved about what he did and why he’d started doing it in the first place.

By the time he made it back to the staff room to fetch his things so that he could head home to Oakley for the night, he was actually thinking about calling Brandon and getting him and Oakley together for some sort of outing. Brandon knew he’d started officially dating Oakley, but because of schedules and things, the two of them had yet to meet. They would get along splendidly, which felt like it could be one step closer to something truly permanent between him and Oakley.

That thought had a smile on his face as he shut his locker and turned to go, only to find Rich heading into the room.

“Ah, there he is,” Rich said, a smarmy edge to his words. “Your sugar daddy get you that new phone, too?” he asked, nodding to Will’s mobile as he shifted it from his scrubs to his satchel.

Every warm feeling that had grown in Will throughout the afternoon vanished with that one question. The walls of his budding garden slammed back into place, and the anxious defensiveness that he’d been carrying around for weeks pressed down on him once more.

“Don’t call him my sugar daddy,” he said, starting for the door with a scowl. “That’s not what he is.”

“Come on, mate,” Rich snorted, as if Will was the one being unreasonable. “You’re dating a billionaire. Might as well reap the benefits.”

Everything in Will told him to ignore Rich and just keep on walking.

He didn’t listen.

“That’s not what Oakley is to me,” he snapped, turning back and glaring at Rich. “I couldn’t care less about his money.”

“Says the man wearing a Tag Heuer watch and sporting the latest model of iPhone,” Rich said with a smirk.

“I bought the mobile myself,” Will said in clipped tones.

Rich ignored him. “If I were you, I would ask for a car. Not some dinky thing either. Ask for a Maserati or something. I bet you’d get it. Though you’ll probably have to blow him for it.” Rich shifted his stance to mock thoughtfulness and said, “Does his junk even work anymore? Or does he buy you things for changing his nappies?”

Somewhere between blistering rage and utter disgust, Will wondered why the hell Rich was being such an arse. Then again, Rich had been an arse since the day Will had met him and Rich had found out that a gay man had seniority over him. Anyone who didn’t think homophobia was alive and well in twenty-first century London hadn’t spent a day in the staff lounge of Greater Kensington Hospital.

“Fuck you, Rich,” Will sighed, shaking his head as he left the room.

He shouldn’t have let it bother him, but his entire trip home to Notting Hill was one black cloud of indignation and self-consciousness. It was lovely that Moira and Henry were so supportive of Will loving whomever he wanted, but they would go off to their own lives at some point. Rich would be a fixture at GKH for years to come, which meant the bitterness and scrutiny would be there every time he turned around. Rich wouldn’t be the only one either.

It seemed completely wrong for the knot to be back in Will’s stomach as he headed up the steps to Oakley’s front door instead of having all his cares and worries melt away, now that he could be alone with Oakley. He picked up the package that someone had delivered from the front doorstep, then let himself into the house.

“I’m home,” he called out, carrying the package into the living room and setting it on one of the end tables.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Oakley’s voice answered him from down the hall.

Oakley wheeled himself into the living room as Will shrugged off his satchel and tossed it onto the sofa. Will flopped onto the sofa after it and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Uh oh. I don’t like the sound of that,” Oakley said, rolling over to the sofa and positioning himself as close to Will as possible. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Will let his hands drop and stared at Oakley. Did he want to talk about it? Would talking about it do a lick of good? Or would knowing how much scrutiny he was getting at work for dating a billionaire former patient just upset Oakley when the last thing he needed was to be upset.

He avoided the issue entirely by nodding to the end table. “There was a package at the front door.”

Oakley suddenly looked embarrassed. “Ah. Yes. That.”

Will arched an eyebrow at him. “Were you expecting something?”

The end table was close enough to where Will sat that he could lean over and just barely reach the package enough to pull it toward him. He took a quick look at the label, but didn’t recognize the company it had come from. Somewhere in Paris, apparently.

“It’s actually for you,” Oakley mumbled. He twisted a bit to rummage in the sack hanging off the back of his chair, where he kept a few things that he needed frequently so he didn’t have to go looking for them all the time. When he turned forward again, he handed Will a pair of scissors.

The bad feeling Will had turned downright sour when he opened the box to take out a long, thin jewelry case. He arched one eyebrow at Oakley before opening it to reveal a thick, beautiful, gold chain.

“They really shouldn’t leave something that valuable sitting on the doorstep,” Oakley groused, his indignation attempting to hide how flustered he was. “I heard the doorbell earlier, but I was upstairs. I’ll have to call their customer service and complain about leaving priceless jewelry on someone’s doorstep.”

“Priceless?” Will asked, frustration and shame and fear swirling in his gut. He didn’t even take the chain out of its box before closing the lid.

Oakley stared guiltily at him for a long time before blowing out a breath through his nose and saying, “Obviously, I ordered that before this morning.”

“You have to stop giving me expensive gifts,” Will snapped. “That’s not who I am. It’s not what I want.”

“I have to give you something,” Oakley argued. “Otherwise I’m just a burden that you have to endure.”

He snapped his mouth shut tightly after the words were out and glanced down at his lap.

It wasn’t as if Will didn’t know what was going on between them. Clearly, Oakley had bought the affection of his past boyfriends. He was just repeating old patterns. And clearly, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was still grappling with the changes in his life. If he were honest, Will was still dealing with his own changes and the painfully inconvenient fact that he wasn’t sure what he was doing with his life anymore if he couldn’t advance in his career.

“You are not a burden,” Will said, leaning forward so he could pull Oakley closer to him. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Oakley smiled, but immediately grew serious again. “Do you want me to return the necklace?”

Will’s immediate response was to say yes. And to have him return the watch while he was at it. But even though he personally couldn’t have cared less about trinkets, they obviously meant a lot to Oakley. Learning how to be with someone who was so different from himself was necessarily going to involve him learning to make sacrifices as well as Oakley.

“No,” he said at last. “I want you to wear it.”

“Me?” Oakley blinked in surprise. “But I gave it to you.”

Will smiled, despite the fraught feelings of the moment. “I want you to wear it and nothing else while you give me something that I actually want.”

Oakley’s face splashed with color so fast that Will wondered if he’d gone light-headed. “Well, that’s a first,” he said in a thick, hoarse voice. “Usually it’s the twink I’ve given something pretty to who ends up going down on me.”

Will laughed out loud. “No, you twat,” he said. He scooped an arm around Oakley’s waist and tugged him forward. Oakley moved with him to transfer from his chair to the sofa and into Will’s arms. “I’m not trying to exchange a gold chain for a pearl necklace.”

Oakley laughed just as freely as Will had, like they’d unblocked something that was stuck between them. “Good one.”

“I just want to spend time with you,” Will explained. “Naked time and clothed time. But not like sex is a commodity and my level of satisfaction in our relationship depends on some spreadsheet of things you’ve given me.”

“Ouch,” Oakley said, pushing and tugging his body into the position both he and Will wanted it. “But point taken.”

They were silent for a moment, just snuggling together on the sofa as Will tried to let the strain and irritations of the day seep away.

“I think it’s time for me to admit that I don’t really know how to have a relationship,” Oakley said at last. “I’m beginning to see that what I’ve had in the past haven’t been relationships at all.”

Will laughed tiredly and rested his head against Oakley’s. “Me either. Which means we’re equally matched in this madness.”

Oakley let out a soft laugh and pushed his arm around Will’s back between him and the sofa. “Let’s not cock this all up, then, please,” he said.

The words “I love you” tickled Will’s tongue. He wanted to say them so badly, because he was feeling them with every muscle and fiber of his body.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to wreck things. He was well aware of the intensity of the paradox of loving someone so much you were afraid to tell them, but it was a feeling he was stuck with.

Because it wasn’t just about Oakley. It was about Rich and Dr. Armitage. It was about Moira and Henry. It was about Brandon and the rest of his family, Oakley’s family, and everyone who thought they had a right to an opinion about whether he and Oakley should be together. He’d tangled his entire life and career up with his feelings for Oakley, and he was desperately afraid that if one thing went wrong, it would all go wrong.