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WEST

T he rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the keyboard filled the otherwise quiet office. Well, if you could call the reception desk area at the old hospital an office. Still, I liked working here because it meant I was within reach of the volunteers if they needed to talk.

Thankfully, no one else was around this morning because ever since I’d woken up a few days ago with Drew pressed to my side, snoring lightly, I hadn’t been able to think straight.

I remembered him making me drink water and then saying he would look after me. I hated that I’d drank so much that he had to look after me. It made me wish for things I had no right wishing for—like waking up to him every day or being able to touch him any time I wanted.

It was unlikely I’d be in the same situation any time soon because I rarely drank and I was doing my very best to avoid Drew.

I was in the zone, crunching numbers for our latest fundraising report, when a gentle knock on the desk startled me out of my spreadsheet-induced trance.

“Mrs. McMartin,” I said, quickly standing. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything all right?”

Cara’s warm smile immediately put me at ease. “Everything’s wonderful, West. And please, call me Cara.”

I nodded, gesturing for her to come around the reception desk and take a seat. As she settled into the chair across from me, I wondered about the reason for her visit. Had we forgotten something at the fundraiser? Was there an issue with her donation?

“I just wanted to stop by and tell you what an incredible job you did with the fundraiser,” Cara said, her green eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. “It was a truly magical evening.”

A flush of pride warmed my cheeks. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. But it was a team effort, really. I just?—”

“Now, now,” Cara cut me off gently, “don’t sell yourself short. Your passion for this foundation is evident in everything you do.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, meeting her gaze. “This place, these kids… They mean everything to me and Drew. We just want to give them the support we wish we’d had growing up.”

Cara’s expression softened, her eyes filled with compassion.

“Well,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “your dedication shows. And it’s inspiring others to get involved too.”

I smiled at that. “That’s the goal, isn’t it? To create a ripple effect of change.”

As Cara nodded in agreement, I thought about how far we’d come. From big dreams at the kitchen table to hosting successful fundraisers and garnering support from pillars of the community like the McMartins. It was more than Drew and I could have ever hoped for when we started this journey.

“So,” I said, clasping my hands on the desk, “what can I do for you today? I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to compliment me on the fundraiser.”

Cara’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Can’t a person simply want to express their appreciation?”

I chuckled, feeling a little sheepish. “Of course. I’m just not used to impromptu visits from our donors. It usually means there’s something specific on their minds.”

“Well,” Cara said, her smile widening, “as it happens, there is something I wanted to discuss with you…”

Cara reached into her elegant handbag and pulled out a checkbook. My eyebrows shot up involuntarily as she began writing.

“I was so moved by the event,” she said, her pen gliding across the paper, “that I’ve decided to make an additional donation. I’ll be matching Patrick’s bid from the auction.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Patrick’s bid had been substantial, to say the least. This kind of generosity was…well, it was game-changing.

“Mrs. McMartin, I…that’s incredibly generous,” I stammered, my mind already racing with the possibilities this donation would open up. “Are you sure?”

She handed me the check with a warm smile. “Absolutely. The work you’re doing here is vital, West. And again, call me Cara.”

I accepted the check, still in a bit of a daze. “Cara, thank you. This will make such a difference for so many kids.”

Cara’s expression shifted as I carefully tucked the check into a folder. “It’s no secret that John and I fostered our children while we went through the adoption process. We fell in love the moment we saw them, and I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d seen those three boys separated.”

“You and John are the dream of every child in foster care, Cara. Many of us age out of the system with nothing. I’m one of the lucky ones because I came out of it with a family.”

She smiled. “You’re talking about Drew, aren’t you? He’s a lovely man. You both are. I can’t be certain, but I think my Patrick might have a little crush on him. I’ve never seen him more passionate about anything that isn’t his work.”

I tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

“Oh really?”

“Patrick was ten when we adopted him. His brothers were a lot younger, so they don’t remember much about their biological parents. Patrick has a very good moral compass. He’s always strived to be a strong student and a good son, a good doctor. Sometimes too good.”

I chuckled. “That sounds like a parent’s best dream.”

“It is, but sometimes I wish he would relax a little. Not focus so much on work. Have a social life. I’m so happy he’s finally doing something fun. Even if nothing more comes from his time with Drew, at least I’ll have a personal bartender at home.”

“That does have its advantages,” I said, trying to make light of it even as I felt the crushing weight of what she was saying.

There was a possibility Drew and Patrick could end up dating, and unlike the other invisible boyfriends, this one had a face and was an actual decent person.

“How about you, my dear? Anyone special in your life other than Drew?”

“There’s a lot going on here, Cara. With the generous donations we’ve received, I’m going to spend the next few weeks hiring contractors, purchasing equipment, and interviewing people for permanent positions. No time to date or even think about dating.”

Cara’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she gathered her purse, preparing to leave. “Forgive me for stepping out of line, but don’t let life pass you by. You are as important as the people you’re helping here.”

“Thank you.” That was all I could say before my throat threatened to close up. I’d never had a mother figure or special person who’d spoken to me like they truly cared. Only Drew.

She squeezed my arm gently. “You’re changing lives, you know? Never doubt the impact you’re making. Keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough. The world needs more people like you.”

Her words hit me right in the chest, leaving me momentarily speechless. I swallowed hard, nodding. “I…I will. Thank you for believing in us.”

As Cara’s heels clicked away down the hallway, I stood there, a sudden restlessness settling under my skin.

I paced the room, my fingers twitching at my sides. There was so much to do, so many people we could help. I also needed to stop thinking about what might happen between Drew and Patrick. The energy coursing through me demanded an outlet, and I knew sitting behind a desk crunching numbers wouldn’t cut it.

Screw it.

If I couldn’t sit still, I might as well make myself useful. There were always repairs to be done, rooms to be prepped. My muscles ached for action, craving the satisfying burn of physical labor. I’d taken a couple of weeks away from my job as a paramedic to focus on the fundraiser, which meant I’d been sitting for far too many hours, and since I wasn’t due back for a few days, that situation was unlikely to change.

I headed to one of the rooms that would eventually serve as a meeting room for our volunteer psychologists and therapists. The walls were a dingy off-white, begging for a fresh coat. After I bought paint a couple of months ago, I’d placed the desired color in each room.

A paint bucket and a set of brushes and rollers were in the corner waiting for me. As I dipped the brush into a can of warm, inviting beige, I felt the tension in my shoulders start to ease.

The first stroke was like a sigh of relief. I fell into a rhythm, and the steady swish-swish against the wall became almost meditative. My mind drifted, imagining how the room would look once we had furniture and some nice pictures on the walls.

Once I’d done the edges, I put the brush down and picked up the roller. That made it all go a lot quicker. In just over an hour, the first coat was done and waiting to dry before the next one.

One room down, about a million to go.

I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. My T-shirt clung to me, and I could feel the pleasant burn in my arms. But I wasn’t ready to be done yet.

I moved to the next room, eyeing the ratty old carpet with disdain. The low-pile carpet was long overdue for retirement, but hey, at least there were no suspicious-looking stains. I grabbed a pry bar and got to work. The rip of the carpet giving way under my hands was a satisfying sound.

My anxiety melted away with each pull. My muscles strained, and I grunted with effort, but damn if it didn’t feel good. This was a real, tangible progress. Something I could see and touch.

After what felt like hours—probably closer to two—I finally paused, leaning against the wall to catch my breath. My chest heaved, and I could feel the ache settling into my muscles. It was a good kind of pain. It meant I’d accomplished something.

But even as my body screamed for a hot shower and bed, that restless energy still thrummed beneath my skin. The thought of going home and having to hear about Drew’s plans for the cocktail class with Patrick made me antsy.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled out my phone and dialed Noah’s number. He picked up on the third ring.

“Dude. You came up from under the piles of cash.”

I chuckled, realizing how rare it was for me to call this late. “Yeah. Feel like a good old Scrooge McDuck. Just wondering if you’re up for grabbing a drink? I need to unwind a bit.”

There was a pause, and I could practically hear Noah’s eyebrows raising. “Unwind, huh? Like at the fundraiser?”

I groaned, my skin heating at the memory. “God, no. I’m too old for that. Only just shook off the hangover. I just…I don’t feel like going home, you know?”

Noah’s laugh was warm and understanding. “All right, all right. Meet you at Tanner’s in twenty?”

“Make it thirty. Thanks, man.” I ended the call, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. A night out with Noah was exactly what I needed. Just enough distraction to quiet my restless thoughts without the risk of making an ass of myself…again. Now, I just needed a quick shower. Thank fuck I had a spare set of clothes in the car because I stunk.

As I made my way to Tanner’s, the refreshing night air helped me think more clearly. The familiar neon bar sign came into view, and I spotted Noah leaning against the brick wall outside.

We headed inside, the warm buzz of conversation and soft music enveloping us. As we settled into a booth, I noticed the concerned look Noah was giving me.

“So, what’s really going on, West? You’re not exactly the ‘spontaneous drinks on a weeknight’ type.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, man. It’s just… There’s too much going on, and I feel like I’m at a crossroads right now.”

“Do you need a little push?”

“Fuck, I need a roadmap.”

He laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but can you just help me get my mind off everything?”

“Dude, I’m married.”

It was my turn to laugh. “That was a good start.”

He raised his hand for the server to come over. “Have I told you about the time Lior came home to me fucking myself on a dildo, and instead of taking over, the fucker focused on the tiny little dog situation?”

And this was why I loved Noah. He didn’t even do it on purpose. He was just…Noah.

“Dude, there’s way too much to unpack here. I’m definitely going to need a drink for this.”