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He felt a small pulse of anxiety as he approached. If the patient—Rob—asked him about the drawing, he’d have to be honest. And that could potentially set off another shitstorm that could lead to Frey being let go, assuming he hadn’t been already.
And while Renato thought he might enjoy a reprieve from having to be on shift with him all the time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with that guilt. He didn’t know much about him, but he was pretty sure Frey had a young child, and he didn’t want to be responsible for destroying their lives.
His gaze zeroed in on the mostly closed door, then on the number. He could do this. He could diffuse. Lifting a hand to knock, he froze when he heard a soft sobbing. Before he could push his way in, he heard another familiar voice that made his stomach twist in strange ways.
“…totally get it. I mean, well, I don’t. I’ve never been through anything like this before, but we talked about how this wasn’t going to be easy.” Frey’s tone was a low, soothing rumble that Renato both loved and hated in equal measure.
“Yeah. N-no. No, I get it. But I can’t look at it, okay? That one guy wants me to stop using the spine thingie in a couple days and get up to piss, and I just…I can’t. I can’t see my body like that.”
“Sure you can,” Frey soothed. “It’ll be the easiest thing you’ve done so far. The worst part is over. And you know what, you were awake for the surgery, and you were a total fucking badass.”
Renato bristled at the swearing, but then Rob laughed.
“Was I?”
“Yeah. You caused a whole goddamn operation room crisis with that dick you drew on your thigh. I should have known better than to leave your ass alone with a Sharpie, Rob.”
Renato sucked in a breath.
Rob laughed harder. “Oh fuck. I forgot about that! Did everyone lose it?”
“You have no idea,” Frey said, a dark tone to his words, but just as Renato was afraid he was going to be thrown under the bus for blaming it all on Frey, his voice went back to quiet comfort. “But that’s probably a good thing, you know. I mean, you didn’t ruin the reputation of the best surgeon in a thousand miles by giving him shaky hands, so that’s a huge plus.”
“Okay, that does make me feel better,” Rob said, still chuckling. He went quiet for a moment. “Can you be there when I have to, you know, look? I don’t want to do this on my own.”
“I can’t promise I’ll be on shift, but I will do my best, okay? And if I’m here, I’m all yours. You will not have to do any of this hard stuff by yourself,” Frey told him.
Renato decided that was the best in he was going to get, so he rapped his knuckle on the door, then pushed it open and breezed past the curtain. And then his stomach dropped. Frey was holding Rob’s hand to his chest, stroking his arm gently.
Were there no limits to where this man would attempt to hook up?
His eyes went dark, and Frey met his gaze without apology or remorse. He lowered Rob’s hand back down to his side, but he did it slowly, like he was challenging Renato to say something.
“How are we doing today, Rob?” Renato said, trying to keep his voice calm.
Rob offered a wobbly smile. He looked pale and wan but in better spirits than some of his other patients who had traumatic losses. Rob’s leg had been crushed in an accident, and he’d been in the hospital for three weeks trying to save it.
Renato had been the one to deliver the news that it had to be amputated.
And Frey had been the one to help Rob keep it together as he signed the consent to have the surgery performed.
“Been better, been worse. The pain is…weird.”
“That’s to be expected,” Renato said. He was looking at Rob, but he could feel Frey’s gaze on him as he moved around and checked over to make sure everything was still in place. “Would you mind if I took a look at how your wound is doing?”
Rob swallowed thickly. “Do I have to look?”
Normally, Renato would have encouraged him to do it, but he knew now wasn’t the time. “No, not at all. I’ll have your nurse”—he just couldn’t say his name—“hold the sheet up, okay?” Now, he glanced at Frey for confirmation.
Frey’s expression had softened a little, and he nodded. “No worries. I’ve got you.” He moved beside Renato, and against his will, Renato got a deep whiff of his scent.
He didn’t wear colognes, but there was a hint of something in his soap that hit him. It was rich and woodsy, barely there but enough that it lingered even after Frey walked away. And Renato always found himself trying to catch it every time they were close together.
He quickly turned his attention back to Rob and lifted the sheet from the foot of the bed. Frey quickly took over and held it up high, creating a curtain. Rob was stiff all over, and Renato could see his hands shaking with nerves.
But he looked good. Today, Rob would have a small cast mold put over the end of his stump to help with the swelling, and it wouldn’t be long before he would be assessed for a prosthetic. And for a traumatic injury, Rob was one of the lucky ones. He’d be back on two feet—even if one of them was titanium.
“Everything looks fantastic. We’ll keep your epidural in for another day or so, then wean you off so you can get used to having sensation back.” Renato dropped the sheet, then checked his vitals. “After that, you’ll be up and walking.”
