The Botanist: Short Story (The Sin Bin Book 3) by Dahlia Donovan

Author:Dahlia Donovan [Donovan, Dahlia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ptsd, Romance, lgbt, american, short story, gay romance, gay, British fiction, gay fiction, Welsh, Military, novella, British romance, navy
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Published: 2017-08-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

ALED

Pinned against the crumbling brick wall, Aled wondered absently if the “passionately forceful” SEAL intended to kiss him. Wyatt hadn’t moved. In fact, he’d swayed even further forward until their noses almost touched.

Do I want to be kissed?

I do.

How… inconvenient.

Why am I always attracted to men so far out of my league?

“You all right, ducky?” An older woman walked past, batting Wyatt on the back, though her attention was focused on Aled. “Is this beast harassing you?”

Aled couldn’t help a quiet huff of laughter. “No, he’s not bothering me.”

“Are you certain? My daughter’s with the police. I can have her here in a second.” She continued to glare at the massive SEAL with an air of apparent disapproval. “You keep yourself out of trouble.”

Wyatt snapped a crisp salute at her and smiled broadly, making Aled a bit weak in the knees at the sudden brightness from the usually stern and stoic military man. “Yes, ma’am.”

“None of that.” She swatted the six-foot-six SEAL on the arm and continued on her way. “Keep your nose out of trouble.”

“Just my nose?” Wyatt stepped away from Aled, arms folded across his chest while he stared impassively at him as though considering something serious. “How long is your hiatus from your university?”

“Until I’m ready.” Aled knew that eventually, his professors would push him to return and finish up his masters. He couldn’t prolong his sabbatical forever. “Sooner rather than later.”

“So, no immediate deadlines or exams?”

“None—why?” Aled narrowed his eyes with a sudden sense of apprehension. “The answer is no to whatever plan you’ve thought up.”

Wyatt caught him by the forearm. “What’s one plant thing you’ve always wanted to see? What’s your botany wet dream?”

“My botany wet dream?” Aled had no idea how to process the visions that conjured in his mind. “Can I quote you in my thesis?”

“Sure. I’m serious. What’s one green thing guaranteed to give you a semi?” Wyatt continued to guide Aled down the walk back toward his flat. He appeared content to ignore the spluttering beside him. “You can’t tell me there are no exotic species of flower you’ve always wanted to see.”

“I can think of a few. You still haven’t said why.” Aled barely ventured beyond the shop around the corner. He couldn’t imagine going anywhere faraway. “Not sure I want to tell you.”

Some days, Aled didn’t get out of bed—couldn’t. All the mirrors in his flat had been turned or covered, anything to keep him from having to see all of the scars, most of which would never entirely fade. He struggled at times to shower, not wanting to see the marks.

After six months, Aled had given up on the therapist visits. She told him the same things, over and over. None of it ever connected with him. His late-night conversations with Wyatt and occasionally with Hamish helped more than she did.

What does she know about torture, anyway?

In his clearer-headed moments, Aled could admit that his own issues, and not the doctor, blocked the healing process. Olivia, his therapist, had served in the military.

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