“Where is Dr. Franklin?”

“I’m sorry, sir, Dr. Franklin isn’t here today, but I’ll be helping with your—”

“But Dr. Franklin is my usual doctor, why isn’t he here? I need a real doctor. Not a male nurse.”

“I’m a physician assistant, Mr. Peters, not a nurse. And Dr. Franklin certainly still is your doctor, and nothing has changed. I’m here today because we need to check up on your vitals and make sure you are responding well to your new prescriptions, and he is out of the country this week.”

The elderly man lying on the hospital bed in front of me made an aggressive grunting sound, and I swore he would have spit on the ground if he hadn’t known better. His name was Vincent Peters, and he was known throughout all of Central Medical for being one of the harder patients to treat. He hated all nurses and staff other than Dr. Franklin and certainly wasn’t taking kindly to meeting me.

Most people understood that physician assistants were highly trained and in certain cases, a fine alternative to a specialist doctor. But there were still plenty of people who would sooner die than be treated by anyone but a “real doctor.”

“Where is that phone of mine? I need to call my daughter—she told me she was bringing me to Dr. Franklin—”

“Mr. Peters,” a voice behind me said, and immediately I felt my blood pressure lower. Her voice was like cool water on a hot day.

I turned around to confirm it was Amanda Matthews, the chief of staff in Central Medical Center. Immediately, Mr. Peters calmed.

“Glad to see you, Dr. Matthews. I was just telling this young gentleman here that there’s been some sort of mix-up. You see, I came here to see Dr. Franklin.”

“I understand, Mr. Peters,” she said, her shoes clicking on the floor as she walked to his bedside. “I know it’s not ideal to see a professional you’re not used to. All of your treatment is still handled by Dr. Franklin, I assure you. But Russell here is going to perform a routine check-up today and make sure that everything is going well for you. Can you do that for us today, Mr. Peters?”

“I’ve never even met this man,” Mr. Peters grumbled.

“I understand. But I can personally tell you that I was in charge of accepting Russell into our team here at Central Medical, and he was selected from a pool of hundreds of candidates. His work is stellar, Mr. Peters, and you’re in very good hands, even if it is a temporary adjustment.”

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’d like the real doctor next time I come in.”

Amanda shot me a look that said I’m sorry and stepped back out into the hallway.

I proceeded with Mr. Peters’ check-up, and though it was like pulling teeth getting him to open up to me truthfully about some side effects he’d been experiencing, the rest of the appointment went relatively well.

When I had finished with him and was on the far side of the room washing my hands, he made a call to his daughter. As I was about to exit the room I overheard a snippet of the conversation—I wasn’t sure if Mr. Peters meant for me to hear it, or if he just didn’t care that I was still in the room.

“…yeah, everything’s fine. No, Dr. Franklin was not here, they gave me some male nurse instead. Assistant, they call them, I guess. Really makes me wonder about this hospital, they can’t hire real doctors anymore…”

My skin prickled as I stepped out of the room. Usually, I could let these things slide, but it had gotten to me today. It had been a long day, and more than one patient hadn’t been responding well to treatments, and a big part of me did wish Dr. Franklin was around to bounce ideas off of.

And on top of it all, I had to go to the drawing class that Devin was teaching that night.

I’d been staying in his guest room for the past week, and with every day that passed, it became harder being constantly in his presence.

It wasn’t because he was hard to be around—quite the opposite, actually. He was next to fucking perfect, and it was driving me crazy.

He cooked for us most nights, and while I tried to help with the cleaning, he refused to accept any money from me. When I got home from my morning run, he was usually just waking up, a little before seven o’clock. Coming home to his sleepy eyes, disheveled hair, and lopsided smile every morning was a constant reminder that I still hadn’t been able to get rid of my crush.

And every day, I felt a little more guilty about it. Once, I’d accidentally ran into him coming out of the shower, steamy and wet and with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his hips. He hadn’t cared, of course—it was nothing I hadn’t seen a hundred times as a teenager when we’d gone swimming together.

But it was different now. He had a man’s body and a fucking sexy one. I had hastily jerked off later that night in the shower. I tried not to think of his body, but it had crept in—when my fist was wrapped around my cock, Devin was just about the only thing I could imagine.

A small, terrible part of me had even thought about him, sitting just one room away as I touched myself.

Thoughts of him were creeping into my fantasies way more often than they should have been.

And he kept telling me about eligible bachelors in Rose Falls that he could set me up with. He seemed hell-bent on getting me a guy, and all it did was make me nervous. I couldn’t tell him that the guy I was thinking about most was him. I’d only just started to feel like we could maybe be best friends again, that maybe he really did forgive me for what I’d done eight years ago.

If he found out I was basically lusting after him day and night, there was no way the slowly repairing foundation our friendship could withstand it.

Devin clearly didn’t want a relationship right now, anyway. Every time Meredith brought up finding him a guy, he shut it down. Said there was nobody in Rose Falls who he wanted. Said nobody was good enough.

There was no way I could be good enough.

So, now, tonight, after a day at work, I had to go draw a nude model in Devin’s drawing class, all while he watched me do it. I felt like I was at the end of my rope. But at least I was getting out of my comfort zone, and it would give me something to talk to Shane about on our date tomorrow.

I went back to my small office at the hospital and wrapped up some notes and emails for an hour before heading home for the day. As I was on my walk home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email from the mattress company—my new bed was set to arrive Sunday, just two days from now.

“Thank the Lord above,” I said under my breath, slipping the phone back into my pocket. If I stayed with Devin for too much longer I was liable to accidentally get hard just from watching him vacuum the house, or something equally innocuous.

I was coming unglued, and I needed to distance myself before I did something stupid. I had two more nights until Sunday, and I just had to manage to keep my cool until then.

When I got back, the warmth of Devin’s house was a welcome respite from the chilly air outside. I slid off my jacket and found Devin on the living room floor—Pepper was leaping all around him, trying to catch a feather toy that he’d bought for her earlier in the week. He’d lit a scented candle on the kitchen counter, and the whole house felt inviting.

It was too goddamned perfect. It was everything I always wished I could come home to—but it wasn’t really mine.

“Look who’s home!” Devin said to Pepper, sitting up and smiling at me. “Guess what?”

“What?” I said as I slipped off my shoulder bag.

“Somebody called about Pepper today, but when I emailed them a few more pictures, they said it wasn’t their kitten. I’m really starting to think you may have found your very own adopted cat.”

“Don’t get my hopes up,” I said, sitting down on the floor next to them. Pepper leaped into my lap, her tiny claws momentarily catching on my scrubs. “These things can take time. We don’t know if her owner is going to come forth even two months from now.”

“But she loves you,” Devin said as Pepper licked my arm. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I shouldn’t say it, but I’m starting to love her, too,” I said.

“D’aww. I wish college Russ could see thirty-year-old Russ now. All warmhearted and melty just from a little kitten.” Devin squeezed me lightly at my ribs.

“Hey! I liked cats back then,” I said, pushing his hand away, pretending I hated his touch when really it was the best part of my day.

“Sure. You might have liked cats, but you were still way too much of a jock to show it this much. Cute cats weren’t really part of your ‘image.’”

Devin couldn’t have known it, but his words stung a little. In college, we had drifted apart when I made friends with people on the football team, and it was still something I regretted to this day. We still hung out from time to time, and I’d always preferred Devin’s company, but back then I felt like I had some reputation to preserve.

Looking back, it would have been much more fun to spend time watching stupid movies with Devin than talking about macros and protein shakes while I tried to beat my deadlift record.

“Yeah, well, this jock is going to be doing some highly artistic figure drawing tonight,” I said. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re gonna do great. We do have to get going, though. I like to get there with plenty of time to set up. Right after we give this little one some more love.”

He reached over to scratch Pepper’s neck, and before long, she was purring on my lap. For a few moments, he rested his own head on my thigh, reaching up to pet her at the same time. It felt beyond good having him there, and if it were up to me, I could have stayed that way forever.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” I said. My head was going to explode if I spent another moment with Devin’s head in my lap, knowing that I couldn’t have him as my own.

* * *

“So what did you think?” Devin said, crossing over to my workbench as the drawing class came to an end. It had lasted an hour, and now students were putting the finishing touches on their sketches, some already packing up to leave.

“I’m certainly not Picasso,” I said, staring down at my rudimentary sketch. “You’re aware of this, but this is way harder than it looks.”

“It definitely is. But Russ, I’m actually really impressed. For a first-timer, this is super promising. Today the model was in a challenging pose, too. I’m proud.”

I tried to keep myself from blushing at his praise, even though I knew it was nowhere near the talent level Devin was used to. He crossed over to the other side of the room, catching up with other students while I finished filling in some shadows on the drawing.

I stood up a few minutes after, stretching my shoulders and back after the hour of seated focus. After rinsing the charcoal from my hands in the sink at the back of the room, most of the students had left. I scanned the room for Devin and caught him talking to a guy who looked extremely strong. Hell, maybe even a bodybuilder. I might not have been a gym rat anymore, but the years I put in there meant that I now had a radar for it.

The other guy’s bulky physique blocked Devin’s face, but they were standing very close, and the guy leaned in toward Devin’s face.

I had a strange mix of feelings brewing inside me as I slowly went back to the front of the classroom. Was this someone Devin was interested in? Who even was this beefy guy? He looked like he belonged more in a lifeguard’s chair on the beach in San Diego than a small town in New York State.

Devin darted a glance at me as I approached, and I made a beeline for my own backpack to start putting away the supplies that he’d let me borrow for the night. I overheard bits of their conversation as I cleaned up. The guy’s name was apparently Angelo, and he was talking about some contemporary painter who recently had a gallery show in New York City.

Of course, I’d never heard of the painter. When the conversation moved to talk about art supplies and then to foreign films, I was completely lost. Angelo was clearly much more steeped in the arts than I could ever be, and increasingly I got the impression that he was probably the exact sort of person that Devin would be interested in.

He had a great body. He seemed relentlessly well educated about art. He could speak Devin’s language.

It should have made me happy, seeing Devin with someone that would probably be a good boyfriend for him. But instead, all I had was a sinking feeling. As they kept talking I turned away and pretended to be absorbed in my cell phone instead of awkwardly waiting around.

When all the other students had left and I was beginning to think that maybe I should have left on my own, too, I finally heard the front door open and shut again and when I turned around, Devin was finally alone.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a sheepish grin and a shrug. “Hope you weren’t too bored over here. I’ve just got to clean up a few more things, then we can head out.”

“It’s okay. Who was that guy?”

“Him? Oh. That was Angelo. He loves talking after class.”

“Does he come here a lot?” I asked, trying my best to seem uninterested in the answer.

“All the time,” Devin said.

“Don’t know how he finds the time, seeing as how he’s probably in the gym most hours of the day,” I said, attempting a joke.

“I know, right?” Devin said. “Is it even healthy to be that ripped?”

I forced a laugh, then sat down on a nearby chair and waited for Devin to finish cleaning up.

On the walk back, he seemed actually happy, and a voice in the back of my head kept repeating that it was probably because of Angelo. For all I knew, they’d set up a date together.

It was none of my business, and yet it rattled around my head all night, even after Devin and I had dinner together, and I retreated to his guest room with Pepper.

Why did I care so much about this stupid Angelo guy?

And why did I care what Devin thought of him?

* * *

A few hours later, I was still lying awake in bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling from the tree outside the window. I’d given up on trying to watch TV or read or do anything other than ruminating about Devin.

Thoughts of earlier that afternoon floated back into my head the minute I closed my eyes. I saw Devin’s dark, soft hair, spilling onto my thigh. It didn’t take long before I was picturing him with me right then, his soft smile next to me in bed, his hand trailing down the side of my body.

I wanted to feel him kissing down my torso and to my thigh, wanted to watch as he wrapped his lips around my cock. I would be so hard, just like I was right now, and I could picture disappearing into his mouth, deep inside of him.

A shudder rocked through my body as I thought of Devin working his mouth around my cock. A nagging voice in the back of my head told me this was bad, it was wrong, but a much stronger urge to wrap my hand around my cock drowned it out.

I gripped myself as I thought about my best friend, first him going down on me and then—even better—me going down on him.

I wanted to see what he looked like when he had my lips around his cock, naked and writhing underneath me. I’d steady him with my hands pressed against his hips, but secretly I’d love it if he bucked so hard I couldn’t keep him down.

I wanted to know what he sounded like when he came. Would he moan, would he gasp, would he say my name?

As I quickened my pace on my own cock I could hear it, what Dev, my Dev, would sound like as I took him to the edge, never quite letting him cross it until he was reduced to begging me to come.

Russ, I could hear him say. Russ, please, please I’m about to—can I come for you, Russ?

I lost control as I dreamed of making him lose control, and I groaned softly as I came across my own chest, riding out the waves and squeezing my eyes shut. For many moments I laid there in blissful silence, thinking of nothing other than hazy images of him.

But it only took a minute to crash back down to reality. As I cleaned myself up, the only image I could picture in my newly cleared mind was one of Devin doing all of that and more with Angelo—certainly with him, definitely never with me.

It was just more likely to end up that way.

I went to the bathroom and rinsed off my body quickly in the shower, returning to bed and sitting up in the dark, angry at myself.

This was ridiculous. It was juvenile. I was an adult, and I was hung up on my childhood best friend—the friend that I had betrayed, and yet he was still nice enough to let me back into his life.

I resolved in that moment that I was no longer going to feed my little crush on Devin. It had been fun, and it had been wrong, and it was coming to an end.

My bed was arriving on Sunday, and I’d be out of his house in no time. And most importantly, I had my own date the next day. Shane had seemed fine when I’d met him—maybe tomorrow night I’d find out that he was someone I could see myself dating seriously.

All I knew for sure was that there would be no more pointless lusting after my friend.