After the embarrassing conversation he had with Mrs. Claudia and then Rowan the night before, Sage practically begged to work overtime at the hospital. They only gave him a few more hours than usual, but anything was good enough for him. He got home late enough that Rowan would already be sleeping. They managed to get through three more days without speaking to one another.
Until one night, Sage got home before Rowan did. There were only two more days left in the third week.
Rowan left his laptop open on a desk in the inn room. Sage walked up to it. The computer screen was still on, not having a time saver on in the settings to automatically dismiss the screen with no activity. No wonder his battery drained all the time.
There was a chat open on the screen. On the left side, the person Rowan had been texting said, "goodnight !!!" with a heart emoji, and the right side, Rowan, had much of the same. The name at the top of the screen read Penni, which Sage assumed was Rowan's ex-wife. Geez. What a complicated marriage.
Sage got a headache. He sighed and closed the laptop before he went to shower.
By the time he got out, Rowan was back. The doctor used the white towel to dry the ends of his hair as he stared at Rowan. Meanwhile, the other sat on the edge of the bed hunched over. Sage walked over and nudged his leg with his foot.
"Hey, what's up with you?" he asked.
"Hey." Rowan raised his head. Wow. He took back what he said about Rowan cleaning up well. The dark spots under his eyes were horrendous. His cheeks appeared sunken in as if the liquor sucked him dry like a dehydrated sponge. Sage cringed. He placed his palm on his forehead and brushed back the light brown bangs. His face was a bit warm.
"Did you drink again?"
"Come on. I'm not completely wasted," Rowan grumbled. "Just a tiny headache."
"Go wash up," Sage ordered. "You're sweaty and reek of whiskey."
"It's bourbon," Rowan corrected in a groggy voice.
"I do not care." Sage pulled him up by his shirt, gripped at his shoulder, and shoved him toward the bathroom door. "Go." Why did he have to actually act like a husband!? Once Rowan was in the bathroom, Sage grabbed the inn room phone to call the front desk. He requested a specific brew.
Practically all his siblings were drinkers. Isabella was the best. She never really got drunk even after drinking a lake's worth. The eldest was their brother Alexander, who was second best. He was only a few steps behind Isabella. Lynn, the youngest, was a bit below average. She could drink down a few glasses, get a red face, drink more, and go down, blabbing nonsense. Sage was the worst out of all four of them. He did not drink. Not normally, so it wasn't as if he had tried training his body to withstand it. He only drank on special occasions, and it was typically only wine or something sweet.
So, he knew of a few combinations of tea to help with hangovers, drunken fevers, and headaches from liquor. He requested them to make the first one they told him they had all the stuff to make. Some red ginseng, which was more for the prevention of, some caffeine to wake him up a bit, but not enough to keep him up, and some honey for sweetener, and some salt to kick him for fun.
By the time Rowan got out of the shower a worker knocked on the door with the tray of tea sitting on a pushcart. Sage opened the door as Rowan emerged from the bathroom. The doctor had his eyes on accepting the tray of tea, and he saw nothing wrong with the scene behind him. His embarrassment was forced behind a thick and tall wall in his mind and replaced with professionalism.
The worker was a young woman. Her face went red upon seeing Rowan step out of the foggy bathroom, hair dripping wet, water still touching his skin, and the soft white robe wrapped around him that was a bit too small on his larger frame. His light caramel hair was a bit darker from the water, and his tanned legs split the smaller robe revealing his calves and toned upper thighs. Wet from the shower, a glossy shine to his skin, only gave it a more sensual appearance.
"I think I grabbed your robe," Rowan muttered, not realizing there was someone standing there. He scratched the back of his head, water trailing down his arms.
"So, take it off," Sage grumbled, but he put his attention mainly on accepting the tray from the woman. "Thank you," he said.
"Y, yes! Sorry! I'll leave you two to—your business." and she nervously hurried away.
Whatever that was about.
Rowan returned to sitting on the edge of the bed and looking miserable. He did not change from the smaller robe, but it wasn't as if Sage's robe was that much smaller for him. It fit Rowan, but it was more of a perfect rather than how robes meant to have some free moving room. The damp cloth hugged his body, and the split through the middle parted with his bronze, muscle-toned legs. With the confession about indecently talking about Rowan was out of his mind, Sage was nonchalant about Rowan's alluding appearance. Sage stepped up to him with the poured share of the brew, used his leg to push Rowan's legs together to avoid revealing himself, and handed the drink to him.
"Is it poison?"
"If I wanted to poison you, I would've made the brew myself to make sure it was deadly enough for my killing tastes," Sage answered sarcastically. "Drink it."
Rowan trusted Sage. He knew he wouldn't actually poison him. So, he accepted the brew. Once Sage passed it off to Rowan, he headed into the bathroom and returned with a hygiene travel pack. He unzipped it and set it down on the bed beside Rowan before digging through it. As curious as Rowan was, he did not ask him what he was doing. He drank the drink. It was a bit bitter, but the taste of honey drained it out. He felt his body begin to warm and relax.
Sage's touch was very delicate. He grabbed a u-shaped object of plastic and stuck it behind Rowan's ears, pushing back the damp caramel brown bangs. A headband. He remained silent as he grabbed out a small container and uncapped it. His fingers dipped into the mysterious, white cream and gently rubbed against the dark circles under Rowan's eyes.
"Ah, cold."
"Don't be a baby," Sage said.
"Your—what's it called?"
"What's what called?" Rowan was far too vague. Sage waited for his answer and continued to care for Rowan's skin. It was horrible. Oil and pores. Rowan was handsome—from afar. The closer Sage was, the more he wanted to smack him, call him a lost cause, and force him to get another room.
"When a doctor says uplifting things," Rowan said.
"'Bedside manner'?"
"That." Rowan snapped his fingers as if to say, "Bam! Yes." "Yours is horrible."
Sage pinched his ear and said, "I'm not your doctor."
"Ow—hey." Rowan hissed. "What are you doing anyway?"
"Your skin is awful," Sage commented. "If you're going to be my husband, you're going to look good. I won't be married to someone ugly."
"You think I'm ugly?" Rowan asked.
"Right now, yes," Sage deadpanned. Rowan paused before he started to smile. Sage got a bad feeling.
"Then I guess I'll go find those women, the ones that asked you how I am in bed. They seemed to think I'm attractive," Rowan said.
"Or your ex-wife." but Sage did not express that out loud. Instead, he said, "Okay. I don't care what you do or who you do."
Rowan faked offense. "Come on. You're just going to let me cheat on you?" he teased. He raised the drink to his lips and took another sip.
Sage shrugged and said, "Better someone else than me."
"To have sex with me!?"
Sage slapped a hand over his mouth. His ears went red. If someone heard him say that… yes, they were teasing and joking around, but that still didn't mean Sage wanted someone to hear! "Would you lower your voice," he said through his teeth. Rowan smiled beyond the palm over his mouth. He reached for Sage's wrist and gently pulled it down.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he teased.
Sage's chest hurt for a moment, but he maintained a straight expression and threatened, "My fingers are very close to your eyeballs."
Rowan immediately shut his eyes out of fear. "Okay. Sorry. I won't tease anymore. Don't blind me," he pleaded. "Can I open my eyes without you stabbing them? I can't drink with my eyes closed." Despite not getting a response, he opened his eyes and continued, "What if I bust my teeth on the glass? You're not an orthodontist."
"I think it would probably fall under being a prosthodontist."
Rowan squinted. "You're just making up stuff to make me look stupid now."
"No, it's a different thing," Sage said seriously. He was not done with Rowan yet and reached for another package. Tearing down on the pre-cut mark to rip open the package. He picked up the pads of a wriggly, molded gel and gently placed them underneath Rowan's eyes. "Orthodontist is more about teeth alignment, but prosthodontist deals with replacements."
"Why can't they fall under the same category?"
"They can't."
"Why not?"
Sage felt like he was talking to a child. "They just can't," he deadpanned. "I'm not a doctor of teeth. I have no idea of the specifics."
"Yet you know of the different teeth doctors," Rowan pointed out.
"A vague idea. I went to university with someone who studied to be a dentist. I think he's one of the main dentists at the facility he works at now, but I haven't talked to him in ten or so years," he answered with a shrug. Sage finally finished up. He took care of the wrappers he opened and returned all his things back to where they belonged.
"You know, you kind of are like a woman," Rowan said, poking at the gels under his eyes. "You have a whole skincare routine."
"Mira made me do it when she first started dating Isa," Sage grumbled. "I got used to doing it. Besides, she gives me them for free with her business line." He squinted at Rowan's face and asked, "What's your excuse?"
"I look great."
"Right," Sage said sarcastically. He headed back for the bathroom, ignoring Rowan's stare.
Since it was Rowan's company car, Sage never declined Rowan saying he would drive either if it was to somewhere in the city they were in or if to the next inn. Besides, Sage didn't like driving anyhow, and he most certainly didn't like driving for long periods of time. They left for the next city with Rowan set on driving.
He took place in the passenger seat, put his seatbelt on, and sank down to play on his phone. There was a mobile game he played of leveling up monsters and fighting. He didn't get too much time to play on it, and he was necessarily dedicated to it, but every once and a while he liked it. Get the daily gifts, do the daily tasks, log out.
Unlike the first drive, the radio was on, but it was very faint. Enough to make Rowan happy enough to drive without speaking. Sage wondered about him though. He seemed like someone who would yap during an entire car ride. Sage did not sit up, not wanting to pull attention to himself, but he turned his green eyes over to peer at Rowan.
Rowan had his arm leaned on the door, his face resting in his palm. His other hand was at the bottom of the steering wheel. Straight ahead, the gaze of his deep, black eyes were set on the road. He seemed to be daydreaming more than driving.
Strangely enough, Sage trusted him.
Sage's staring had gotten worse without him knowing. Subconsciously, he had turned his head too, making it much more obvious he was looking. Rowan snapped from his daze and glanced over, meeting Sage's gaze for a moment before he looked back at the road.
"Are you okay?" Rowan immediately asked. "Hungry? We can stop."
The doctor snapped his attention back to himself. He turned his head back to his phone. "No, I'm fine. Sorry. Keep driving. I was wondering if you were getting tired," he lied.
"I'm good. Take a nap if you want."
"Mm," Sage hummed, but he gave no verbal answer. He turned the other way in the seat and closed his eyes, forcing himself to dream of nothing, afraid of dreaming of something out of his control.