Page 21 of Private Exhibit (Gentleman Hackers #4)

DEVON PUT his back to the door and slowly pushed it shut.

Oh my gods. Did that really just happen?

A simple walk with Andy, and the night had turned completely around. It had felt like a date. No, not just a date , Devon thought. It had been so much more than that. He'd connected with Andy in a way that he'd never connected with another human being in his life. Not even with Oliver.

“Whoa.”

Devon looked up, seeing Oliver stretch up in his chair, peeking over their monitors. “What?” Devon asked.

“I've literally never seen that look on your face before.”

Devon felt himself blush. “What look?”

“That look,” Oliver said with a chuckle. “Wow. Somebody's got a major crush.”

Devon's cheeks turned red-hot.

Oliver barked a laugh. “Oh yeah.” He shook his head. “Come on. Take off your shoes and come sit.”

Devon frowned and looked down. “Oh.” He dropped to a crouch and quickly pulled off his shoes, having to fuss with them for several seconds to get them to sit just right on the mat, then pulled off his socks before making a beeline for his bedroom.

Devon changed back into his pajamas, feeling his body go lax as he padded back out to the dining area.

“So what the heck did you guys do?” Oliver asked, sinking back into his seat on the other side of the table.

“We just talked,” Devon replied, then shook his head. Gods . That made it sound so simple and trivial. They'd done so much more than talk. They'd shared things. Important things. They'd gotten close in a way that Devon had never thought he'd get to experience. “His son had A-G,” he blurted out.

Oliver hissed in a breath through his teeth and leaned to one side, peeking between their monitors. “Shit. 'Had ? ' As in…”

“Yeah.”

“So he knows you–”

“Yeah. I told him all about not getting adopted and everything.” Devon paused, shaking his head again.

“He's so easy to talk to,” he murmured. “It felt like…

like I could just dump everything on him, and he'd hold it for me, you know?

I mean, maybe he was just being nice, but it didn't feel that way. And he told me his darkest secret. But not like he expected me to carry the weight of it in return.” Devon paused again.

“It felt more like he could trust me with it.”

Oliver blinked. “That's kinda huge.”

Devon nodded.

“You really like this guy, don't you?”

Devon felt himself blushing all over again. “I really do. I know I shouldn't, but I do. He's my boss, for gods' sakes. But…” Devon cursed. “Not like it matters. Not when I could die at any–”

“Don't say that,” Oliver interrupted.

Devon flashed him a smile of apology and looked down. Something out of place caught his eye, and he looked over to see the Rosses' check.

“Oh!” Devon snatched it up, grabbed a pen, and signed it over to Oliver before holding it out between their monitors. “I want you to have this.”

Oliver stared at him, holding his breath for a long moment. “Wh-Why?” he gasped.

“Because you need it more than I do.”

“Dev–” Oliver gulped, glancing at the check. He clearly wanted to take it—needed to take it—but didn't make a move to do so.

“Please,” Devon said, waving the check. “I insist. Use it to pay down some of your debts.”

Oliver still didn't move. “But what about you?”

Devon shrugged. “As long as I can keep this job, I can afford all our basic bills. That's all I need. But you've got all this weight on your shoulders, and I want to see at least some of it gone before I die.”

Oliver looked down, his face pinched. He sniffed and coughed into his fist, then shook his head. “They gave that money to you.”

Devon lowered his hand but didn't take the check back.

“I don't want anything from them,” he realized aloud.

He'd secretly hoped for friendship. Maybe even a tiny sense of family.

Clearly, neither of those things was going to happen.

“They can't buy my forgiveness,” Devon went on.

“And I know you don't like handouts. You want to be your own man, and I respect the hells out of that.

But you've also literally saved my life more times than I can count–”

“That was part of our deal,” Oliver said, waving as though to point out the apartment as a whole.

“I know that. But still. Let me do this. Please.” When Oliver still didn't reach for the check, Devon chuckled.

“If it helps, this is purely selfish on my part.

It's not a gift or a handout. It's a trade.

Because when I die, I don't want to be wandering around as a ghost, all alone, totally helpless, watching you go right back out onto the streets.

I need to know that you're gonna at least have a way to start over.

I mean, I know it won't cover everything, but it'll help, right?”

Oliver blinked, a tear running down his cheek as he rolled his eyes and laughed. “Fine,” he gasped, taking the check and shoving it under his keyboard. He turned away and quickly scrubbed a hand under his eyes. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You're welcome,” Devon replied, feeling another weight lift off his shoulders. Gods . Between that and his talk with Andy, he thought he might float away. He'd never felt this light in his life.

The Rosses' rejection still stung, but he was used to that sort of thing. Even that couldn't dampen his mood now. Besides, he had his closure. The Rosses hadn't wanted him back then and they still didn't want him now. Devon could officially put that part of his life behind him and move on.

Besides, how could the Rosses possibly matter when someone like Andy wanted him?

Devon felt himself blushing again.

Oliver chuckled. “You're thinking about the hot doctor again, aren't you?”

Devon's blush spread all over his face and down to his chest, the heat of it almost too much to bear.

“Maybe.” He breathed a laugh. There was no maybe about it.

It felt way too good to be wanted. To have someone come right out and say it.

Maybe Andy would change his mind. Maybe the man would come to his senses once he really started thinking about how hopeless the situation was.

For now, though, Devon was going to enjoy the feeling.

Chances were, he'd never get to experience anything like this ever again.

He sat up with Oliver for another hour, working on the job for Grim , then went to bed, knowing he was going to need a good night's sleep if he was going to work tomorrow. Devon drifted off with a smile on his face, thinking of Andy, counting down the hours until he could see the man again.

The next morning, Devon woke up with a grin on his face.

He popped right out of bed, not even pausing to think about whether his body could handle it.

His morning routine went by in a blur, and he was out the door in no time at all, strolling down the streets with an eagerness he'd never experienced.

He made a tiny detour, crossing the street to go admire the jacaranda tree.

Devon gave himself a few minutes to just stand there, taking it all in.

This , he decided. This was his new favorite.

It was beautiful all on its own, but it also reminded him of last night.

Of Andy. Devon bit back a giddy laugh. It was too perfect.

Devon finally tore himself away, not wanting to be late. He reached the hospital, ducked into the elevator, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he was at work now. He had to focus.

His stomach dropped as the elevator doors opened, putting him right in front of the entrance to the morgue.

Oh gods . Andy probably changed his mind.

Last night had been amazing, but the cold, harsh reality of morning—of this place—had probably made the man see reason.

What would be the point in wanting someone you could never have?

Devon squirmed, hesitating for so long that the doors began to close. He shot out a hand, stopping them, then made himself step out of the car. Devon paused there, eyeing the doors across from him. One day—and in the not-so-distant future—he'd wind up behind those doors. On that cold, metal table.

Not that he'd feel it.

Devon shuddered and turned away, clenching his jaw as he headed for the office. That was the point, he realized. There might be no future for them, but they could at least enjoy something in the meantime.

Right?

Taking another deep breath, Devon opened the office door. He'd barely taken a step inside when he realized three things at once.

The lights were dimmed. Not off, but low enough to be a huge relief after the glaring brilliance of the rest of the hospital.

Andy wasn't there, yet he clearly had been. The coffee machine was on, the carafe only half full, a clean mug sitting beside it.

And a vase of flowers sat on the desk.

The hells? Devon slowly pushed the door shut behind himself, then crossed the room, his gaze riveted to the vase. Maybe the family of a patient had sent Andy flowers as a thank-you? Did people do that? It was the only thing he could think of, except…

Snapdragons! Devon slowly set down his lunch bag, then took a step closer. He glanced at the corners of the room before he reached out and touched the card perched amidst the colorful petals.

Devon,

Thank you for a wonderful evening.

–Andy

Devon gasped, dropping into the chair like an attack had severed the connection to his legs. Oh my gods . Andy had bought him flowers. Him! And the man had even remembered his favorites.

Tears sprang to his eyes. Devon's chest hitched, and he had to cover his face with both hands, blocking out what little light there was in the room.

Oh my gods . Was this for real? He peeked out between his fingers, then slowly lowered his hands.

A grin took over his face, and he had to wipe away the tears so he could see clearly, taking in every detail.

The sound of running water startled him. Devon looked over and realized the washroom door was shut, then saw a shadow move across the light that peeked out beneath it.

Andy!

Devon sucked in a breath and held it. Don't get too excited. Maybe the flowers were just Andy being nice. Maybe they didn't mean anything more than that. He couldn't let himself get his hopes up. Just in case. Just to be safe.

But— Gods! —he wanted to.

The water shut off, and silence followed. Devon felt his heart racing as he waited, watching until the light finally went out and the door opened.

Andy stepped out of the washroom and gave a start at the sight of him.

Then a soft smile took over his face. Along with a hint of a blush.

Oh my gods . Andy was blushing?

“Hi,” Andy breathed.

“Hi,” Devon whispered back. He swallowed hard. “Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.”

Andy studied his face, and his smile slowly grew into a grin. “My pleasure,” he murmured, his voice coming out in a deep, husky tone.

Oh hells . Devon had to squeeze his legs together. So this is what it feels like .

He wanted more.