Free Will & Patrick Wake Up Married by Leta Blake Page A

neurosurgery, and Will stops listening for meaning because it’s all beyond him. But the rambling excitement underscoring Patrick’s words, the intensity of his delivery marking his passion, and the vibrant, richness of authority, is enough to stir Will’s blood with vicarious enthusiasm.
    “I’m excited for you to see our new neurology department. I think you’ll be impressed. We consulted with some of the best—”
    Patrick snorts.
    “Maybe not as good as you, but some very good surgeons gave input to our design team.”
    “I’m sure. Regardless, all that matters is that it’s functional enough for me to do my work. I’ve got a waiting list a mile long. If I could see the hospital tomorrow and meet the chief of staff, that’d be great. What doctors do you have on staff already? Anyone I might recognize by name? Or are they all first-year-out-of-med-school putzes?”
    Will bristles. “That’s why I was in Las Vegas, remember? I was supposed to chat up some neurosurgeons and neurologists. Drum up interest. We’re grossly understaffed at the moment, though we have some good applications from some promising—”
    “They aren’t promising.”
    Will rolls his eyes. “Should the hospital run every resume past you before setting up an interview?”
    “Sounds boring as hell, but yes. If you want to keep from hiring butchers. I’ll be honest with you about their abilities.”
    Will considers. “It would be up to Don, our chief of staff, but he might want to take you up on that.”
    “Sure, whatever.” He stretches. “That’s enough chitchat for tonight. If you’re right about this situation not being resolved in a day, we’ll have plenty of time for more charming tête-à-têtes.”
    Patrick rises from the sofa and stretches high. His boxer-briefs and T-shirt separate, displaying the trail of hair below his bellybutton. Will remembers the way it felt against his cheek the night before. He blushes and coughs. Patrick doesn’t notice, though. He walks to the bed, pulls off his T-shirt, slides under the sheets, and snaps off the lamp on the nightstand.
    As tempted as he is to slip in beside Patrick and reacquaint himself with the firm press of his body, Will stays put.
    God grant me the serenity…
 

Chapter Five
 
    Will wakes up in an unfamiliar room for the second time in two days. He sits up and rubs at his neck. In his sleep, he’d been happy. He closes his eyes, searching for that dream place again, and he jerks fully awake when he realizes he’d been dreaming of Patrick, of their hands laced together, and their bodies moving in a slow rolling fuck.
    Why are even his dreams betraying him?
    “I’m ordering extra room service,” Patrick announces from the bed.
    Will swallows and stares at the floor.
    “You need to eat something too.” The phone by the bed clatters as it’s dropped and then picked up again.
    Will wishes he could take a few minutes to fall apart, but that won’t solve anything. So he stands up and rubs his hands over his hair. “I’ll have cottage cheese, eggs, and whole wheat toast. Hold the jelly.”
    Patrick nods absently as he studies the room service menu in his hand. “Sensible choices.”
    “I’m going to take a shower.” Will wishes he had time to hit the gym too. Exercise always makes him feel better. “Then I should head over to Nonna’s. I need to get it over with.”
    “Agreed. Procrastination is for the weak.” Patrick dials the phone.
    Will shuts the door against Patrick’s seemingly endless breakfast order. He doesn’t understand how the man can apparently eat like he does and still be so fit. He turns on the shower, testing the water. He’s not going to think about Patrick’s body or the sex they’ve had.
    He climbs into the shower and takes a few minutes to just be. The water beats against his back and he rubs the soap over his body, gently touching a tender hickey under his collarbone. He presses the bruise and shudders. When was the last time