Alpha Male Romance(27)

Even I had to respect that.

Father O'Toole hadn't stopped there either. He'd stayed with me in the hospital, given me a couch to sleep on and a place to work. He'd helped me get back into my senior year of school and graduated. He'd supported my decision to become a soldier and had been there to see me off when I'd left for boot camp. He was always there when I went back to the city. Always ready to give me words of wisdom.

He really was my family.

“I was going to tell you, Xavier, that we've decided to release you.”

The doctor's words immediately pulled my attention back to her.

“You have?”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “You've been doing that a lot lately, haven't you?”

I shrugged, not quite sure what she was asking.

“Disappearing inside your head,” she clarified.

I didn't say anything. It wasn't like I was going back to the army and had to worry about some shrink's profile, but if she thought I was depressed, it might make her change her mind about letting me go.

“We want you to be healthy, Xavier.” Her voice softened. “Body and mind.”

I said what I knew she needed to hear. “I'm just stir-crazy, doc. Not used to lying around. Eager to get out of here.”

Her expression was skeptical, but she nodded. “Tomorrow evening. Let Father O'Toole know when to pick you up.”

I nodded in agreement, my thoughts drawn back to the father.

Father.

I'd always hated that word until I'd met Doron. He'd shown me what a father was really supposed to be. It didn't matter that he'd had nothing to do with my creation. He'd shown me what it meant to be a man, what it meant to be loved.

He was also the only reason I hadn't killed myself yet.





Chapter Two





Nori





I wasn't working today, but Dr. Fellner told me yesterday that X would be released this evening. I wanted to say goodbye.

It was weird, this strange relationship we'd established over the past three months. It wasn't anything close to romantic, or even what I'd call friendship, but there was something between us I couldn't deny.

I'd never been anything but professional with him, but I couldn't deny that he occupied my thoughts more than any other patient ever had. It wasn't like I was having romantic daydreams or anything like that. It was more like I worried about him. A lot.

At first, I told myself it was because his injuries were severe and I'd cared for him from the moment he'd come into the hospital. I was simply more invested in his well-being because of that.

Except I knew that wasn't entirely true. After all, I hadn't been pulled into caring for him at first. It had been my choice to volunteer. I could've just as easily headed up to the burn unit to wait. Or I could've gone with one of the other patients who'd come into the ER that morning. I hadn't though. He was the reason I'd wanted to help.

Sometime in April, I'd given up trying to figure out why. As long as I didn't cross any lines – and I had no desire to do so – and as long as my care of other patients remained exemplary, I had no reason to continue to overanalyze things.

I knocked on his door as I paused in the doorway. It felt weird to wait for him to ask me to come in, but I wasn't here in an official capacity. I wasn't even wearing my scrubs. It was June here in San Antonio, which meant my shorts and t-shirt were appropriate casual wear. When I'd come to see off Ivar Durward in May, one of my former patients, I'd dressed similarly. There'd been several of us there then, wanting to say goodbye to one of the unit's favorite patients.

I was the only one here for X.

He'd never been the kind of patient who cussed us out or thrown things or anything like that, but he was far from pleasant. Surly was probably the best word to describe him, though I was sure there were less pleasant ones that had been used.

“What do you want?”

As I said...

I gave him a smile as I entered the room. I knew X well enough to know that unless he specifically said for me to leave, it was okay to come in. I studied him as I walked toward the bed. The scars on his face were healing nicely. He hadn't said anything about it, but I had a feeling he was growing his dark blond hair out to draw attention away from the damage on his cheek and jaw.

“I hear you're leaving tomorrow.” I leaned against the wall rather than sitting in the chair.

Aside from the times at the very beginning when I'd been working myself to death, I tried to avoid sitting when I came in to see how he was doing. Somehow, it felt more casual to stand than it would have if I'd sat to talk to him.

He shrugged and I saw a flash of pain go across his azure eyes. He was still a handsome man, the scars on his face not really detracting from his features. His shoulders were still broad, and he pushed himself enough in PT that his muscles hadn't lost much of their definition. He was physically strong and would probably be able to eventually get back to a normal life.