He leaned on the counter, his eyes drifting to the water just beyond the dock, and he wondered if telling Fredric he was close would only make the man feel worse. He’d said he wasn’t trying to be a stranger, but he also made it clear he wanted to get on with his life without help. And Ilan understood that, respected that. And he knew it would sound like a goddamn lie when he told Fredric that moving ten minutes away was nothing more than a coincidence.
But, he realized with a heavy sigh, he’d made a promise.
It was late in the morning, so he took his time showering, then jumped in his car and headed down the road. He kept the top up, but he rolled his window down and hung his arm out and appreciated this small burst of peace he wanted to hoard before real life forced him back into a routine.
He wanted to get back to work—eventually. He just wanted to take his time on the way.
Feeling better about his decision, Ilan pulled his car into Fredric’s driveway, and as he turned the car off and stepped out, he heard the sound of Sebastian barking. The front door was closed, and the blinds were down, so Ilan made his way around the side of the house and found Fredric sitting in a chair with a mug of coffee and his feet stretched out in front of him.
He had big designer shades on and a linen top, and Ilan had never seen him look so good. He looked great, actually. He looked…
He stopped himself before he went too far. Julian always mocked Ilan’s crush on the man, and Ilan had leaned into it because he liked the way it riled up his best friend. But it wasn’t meant to be real. His heart wasn’t supposed to race at the sight of him like that—casual and beautiful and happy.
Shaking his head, he walked to the fence where Bas was wagging his tail, and he cleared his throat. “Got room out here for one more?”
Fredric sat up straighter, and his mouth curved into a wide grin. “Back so soon?”
“Hey, I was a model of self-restraint and waited four whole days,” Ilan fired back. He let himself in, then gave the dog several belly rubs before he walked over and took the empty chair beside the older man. “Anyway, there was something I didn’t mention the other night, and it’s been keeping me up.”
Fredric’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Tell me you didn’t go after John.”
Ilan stared, then barked out a laugh. “That dickhead from the restaurant? God, no. I forgot about him once he was out of the room.” He leaned forward over his thighs, and his gaze fell on Fredric’s fingers—big like Julian’s but aged and delicate. He held his mug with one hand and traced an index finger around the rim, and Ilan felt himself close to…something he couldn’t quite name.
“You know you can tell me,” Fredric said after the long silence. “I won’t be angry.”
Ilan rubbed the back of his neck and laughed again. “So, after Julian left, I decided I didn’t want to live there anymore. I mean, he and I were never far apart from each other. And being able to see you any time I wanted…” He stopped abruptly.
It was a stupid thing to say. He saw Fredric on holidays mostly, and the rest of his time was taken up at the hospital. But knowing he could had mattered, and after Julian left and Fredric packed up his things, the place felt empty.
“I quit my practice,” he finally went on.
Fredric’s soft grin stayed firmly in place. “Corinne told me.”
“Right,” Ilan breathed out. “Right. So, the thing is…I had my realtor look for a place, and I found one. It’s a waterfront, really small but perfect for me. Um. There’s a dock and a kayak.”
The left side of Fredric’s mouth quirked higher. “Sounds picturesque.”
Ilan flushed and rolled his eyes. “What I’m trying to say, old man, is that it’s ten minutes from here. That’s why I was at that restaurant.”
Behind the dark shades, Fredric’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Ilan flushed harder. “I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”
He was met with silence. Then Fredric sat back and laughed. “Is that what you were killing yourself over.”
“Well,” Ilan defended petulantly, “you made this big fucking deal about doing this all on your own, and I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you.”
Fredric laughed again, then reached for him, and Ilan offered his hand freely. Fredric’s palm was warm and soft, and it was grounding. “Stop. Having you nearby isn’t a tragedy.”
“But you said…”
“I know what I said, and I meant it. But I’m also lonely,” Fredric admitted. “My neighbors are really sweet, and Bas is always good company. But he’s getting along in years, and so am I. And I just walked away from every single person in my life.”
Ilan’s gaze fell to their joined hands, and he watched Fredric’s thumb tracing his knuckles. It was something Ilan had always noticed about the man—not just that he touched, but he explored. He was calm, but he was never still, and Ilan’s heart thudded a little faster as he truly felt the touch for the first time.
“You and I both know that’s not what happened,” he finally managed. “But whatever. I just needed you to know that I wasn’t trying to encroach.”
“I’d never think that,” Fredric said. He withdrew his hand, and Ilan felt the absence of him. “It’s time for you stop believing you’re a burden to everyone.”
Before he could argue that it wasn’t true, Fredric stood up and started toward the house. Ilan was left there on the chair, the sun shining down on him, the sound of Bas’ squeaky toy just barely audible over the waves crashing.
The moment was profound, and a little harsh, and entirely idyllic.
He eventually got up and stepped into the kitchen, leaning in the doorway to watch as Fredric washed and dried his mug, then hung it on his little mug tree next to his coffee maker. He took a step into the room, then sighed as Fredric turned to him wearing a concerned frown.
“What?” Fredric asked.
“Coffee pods? Julian would shit bricks.”
Fredric’s face melted into a grin. “I know. But I doubt he’ll be here often enough to complain.” The moment after that was a little heavy. “Are you going to Paris for the holiday?”
“Doubt it,” Ilan admitted, and he did feel a wave of guilt, but not as much as he would have if Julian was going to be alone. “There will be other holidays.”
“Sulking on your own, or are you working?” Fredric walked to the counter, finding it with the tips of his fingers, then he leaned casually on his weaker arm, which trembled for a moment under his weight.
“I don’t exactly have a job yet,” Ilan admitted, feeling a tinge of shame because he was never the kind of man who enjoyed being idle—but he thought maybe he could be. For a little while at least. “I’m debating right now what the hell I even want to do.”
“Career change?” Fredric asked, sounding surprised.
Ilan laughed. “God no. No, I did not almost literally kill myself from stress and fatigue to go…I don’t know, knit hats and sell them on the internet. I just…I wanted a change. I wanted to stop working ER shifts. I wanted a real office and space to breathe and more regular patients than emergency surgeries.”