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“I need to take off.”
Lane chuckled and shook his head. “There you go.”
“Love you, honey,” Frey called over his shoulder. “Hope you’re ready to be my best man!”
There were a few cheers from the restaurant patrons, and Frey grinned before rushing out the door to set his plan in motion.
It took him an hour to get what he needed. An hour, three shops, and four very annoyed florists before he found the right bouquets. He had a feeling he knew where Renato was, and if he was right, it wouldn’t be long before Frey had to plead his case. Or himself.
Whatever.
He found himself singing along to his playlist as he hurtled down the freeway, and his nerves didn’t really hit him until he was turning into the movie theater parking lot. It was mostly empty, which was a small relief, but he didn’t see Renato’s car anywhere.
Until he did.
It was at the far end, and Frey’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw Renato sitting on the hood. He was dressed in his usual button-up and slacks, and he was sitting on the hood, clutching a giant container of popcorn and the largest soda the theater sold.
He was definitely having a breakdown.
And it was definitely Frey’s fault.
He didn’t look over when Frey pulled in next to him or when he got out. But he stiffened and his shoulders hunched, so Frey at least knew Renato wasn’t about to get an ugly surprise. He hesitated, then reached into the car and picked up the bouquets before walking to the passenger side of Renato’s car.
“Hey.”
Renato gave him a nod, but he didn’t look over. His gaze was fixed across the street.
Frey waited a beat, then thought fuck it, and he climbed up, settling beside Renato. “We’re not going to dent your hood, are we?”
Renato snorted quietly. “My insurance will cover it.”
Not the answer he was expecting. Frey stared at Renato’s profile, once again overwhelmed by just how beautiful he was. He felt an irrational pulse of jealousy at the years that Grady had gotten—at the man he’d gotten. The one without all the wounds. But maybe Frey wouldn’t have loved that version of Renato as much as this one.
And he knew he was being unfair.
Hence the flowers.
“Everyone is losing their minds at work. They all know.”
“About us?”
Frey stiffened. “I wouldn’t do that to you. They know you’re leaving. Everyone thinks it’s my fault.”
“It is.”
Cool, okay, yeah. So his fears were confirmed. “Right. You know I can quit. Or move to another department. They always want me back in L and D.”
Renato finally looked over. His gaze lingered on the flowers, then moved up to Frey’s face. “It’s your fault because you showed me what an utter bastard I was being. No one deserves to be subjected to that.”
Frey bowed his head and took a calming breath. He set the flowers off to the side, then pulled out the little notebook he’d been keeping in his pocket. It wasn’t as fancy as his leather-bound one with all the shit Renato had said, but he was working with what he had.
He cleared his throat. “You’re going to make an amazing surgeon one day.”
Renato blinked at him. “I’m already a?—”
“That’s some of the best work I’ve seen coming from a first-year resident. You’re a credit to your class.”
Renato’s jaw snapped shut.
