Page 59 of The Saint

“What is it?” Rolly’s hand cupped my cheek, cooling the warmth that gathered there. “What are you thinking?”

I pressed his hand to my face, nudging it as an overwhelming desire to hide from his view swept through me. “Just about you.”

Rolly chuckled. “Yeah?” He leaned forward, body boxing me in until I couldn’t take the heat that was flooding through me and fell to my back on the ground. He leaned on his arms, hovering over me. “About all the things I can do to you when we get home?”

“Rolly.” I covered my face with my hands, and he laughed at me, trying to tug them away. But a buzzing at my side had us both stopping. I pulled my phone from my pocket—the same phone that hadn’t rang once since my brothers left me to settle in at my apartment a month ago.

Zee.

“Hello?” I nudged Rolly aside as I sat up, and the dying sun lit up his face, shining against the sudden seriousness that covered him.

“David, I’ve got a job for you.”

“Yes, sir. What is it?”

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of a door shutting before Zee continued. “I’d need you to come to my office first thing so we can discuss it.”

“Of course, sir.” Of course, he wouldn’t want to speak about a job over the phone. I itched to know what it was, excitement brewing in me the way it hadn’t in so long. “I’ll be there first thing.”

“And David?” Zee’s voice stopped me from hanging up, and I raised the phone back to my ear. “Bring your boyfriend.”

* * *

Rolly chuckled beside me on the front steps of Zeno’s house. I jabbed him with a light punch to the side, then continued doing the exact thing he was laughing at me for: bouncing on my toes like I was getting ready for a race. I didn’t stop until the handle pulled down, the door swinging open a second later.

“‘Bout time you showed up.”

“We came straight here, sir,” I protested, but Zee only shook his head and stepped back, out of the doorway.

“I was talking to him.” The doctor leveled a hard glare at Rolly, but he just lifted his shoulders toward his ears, not even bothering to take his hands from his pockets.

“Wasn’t scheduled to see you until next week.”

“And that means you don’t stop by or call? Let me know how you’re doing?”

“Ah, you make it sound like you care about me. The last time I was here, you slammed the door in my face.”

Zee dipped his head and pursed his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way. Because I do care.” He placed his hand on Rolly’s injured shoulder. “You’re more than just a patient. You know that, right?”

Rolly’s gaze dropped, his heavy brow furrowed.

“You’re family,” Zee said, his voice warm and comforting where it’d been stern when we’d walked in. He turned his gaze to me. “Both of you are. Don’t you ever forget it.”

Now it was my turn to drop my gaze. Luckily, Zee didn’t wait for a response. He released Rolly’s shoulder, then stalked off toward the kitchen.

What he affectionately called his office.

Rolly grabbed my hand, tugging me close, even though I wanted to sink to the floor and bury my head in my hands. Anything to hide the smile that threatened to tear across my face and the sudden tears I was having trouble blinking away.

Family.

To me, that was my brothers. Avi, Yosef, Paz, and Eytan. It was Arik and Sarah and their little girl, Chaya. I’d lost any other family before I was born, when my father and mother turned away from each other to satisfy their own selfish needs.

Zee telling me I was family had my lungs constricting and my heart drumming out a wild beat in my chest. Because family wasn’t something I took lightly. This man I’d known the entirety of my life, who’d taken care of my injuries and watched me grow, was the kind of man I’d dreamed of having as an uncle when I was young. And I’d never believed, not for one moment, anyone else could feel the same way.

Rolly stared down at me, his eyes searching my face like he was reading a book. As if he liked what he saw there, he smoothed his thumb over my rebelling lips, then dropped a lingering kiss to my forehead.

Not for the first time, I wondered what, exactly, I meant to him. Would I ever be family to him, too? Or was I nothing more than a friend who liked the same things: hiking and boating and having his body moving over mine?