White Horse

Chapter 2: Of Pets and Promises

The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the silence in Daniel's office. He sat slumped in his chair behind the sturdy mahogany desk, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of an open file. His gaze, however, was fixed on the window, where the soft orange hues of the late afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains. 

He sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. *Adrian.* The name echoed in his mind, uninvited but insistent. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the man since their encounter earlier that day. 

Daniel had always prided himself on his composure, especially around clients. But Adrian Delgado, with his sharp jawline, piercing dark eyes, and a physique that seemed sculpted by the gods, had nearly unraveled him. 

*Focus, Daniel. You're a professional. You handled it well. You're not some lovesick teenager.* 

He opened his eyes and shook his head, hoping to dislodge the intrusive thoughts. But the memory of Adrian standing in his clinic, holding that tiny, trembling puppy, was as vivid as ever. 

Adrian had been wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, but on him, the simplicity looked effortlessly stylish. His arms—muscular and veined from what Daniel assumed was regular gym work—had cradled the puppy with such care that it made Daniel's heart skip a beat. It wasn't just the man's appearance that lingered in Daniel's mind, but the juxtaposition of strength and gentleness Adrian had exuded. 

"Ugh," Daniel groaned, rubbing his temples. "Get a grip, Alvarez. You're not here to daydream about clients." 

A soft knock on the door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. It was his assistant, Carla, peeking in. "Dr. Alvarez? Is everything alright? You've been in here for a while." 

Daniel straightened up in his chair, trying to look busy. "I'm fine, Carla. Just going over some files. Do we have any more appointments today?" 

"No, the last one just left. You've got the rest of the afternoon free," Carla replied, tilting her head in concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... distracted." 

"I'm fine," Daniel insisted, forcing a smile. "Thanks for checking in. I'll wrap up here soon." 

As Carla left, Daniel let out another sigh. He hated how transparent he felt. Was it that obvious that Adrian had shaken him? 

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands. "It's just admiration," he muttered to himself. "Anyone would notice someone like Adrian. It doesn't mean anything." 

But even as he said the words, Daniel knew they rang hollow. 

He replayed the encounter in his mind. Adrian had walked into the clinic, his confident stride and warm smile instantly lighting up the room. The puppy—a tiny, shivering golden retriever—had been the reason for the visit. Adrian's concern for the little creature had been genuine, and Daniel had seen how tenderly he stroked the pup's soft fur while explaining what had happened. 

"I think he fell off the porch," Adrian had said, his brows furrowed in worry. "I just want to make sure he's okay." 

Daniel had nodded, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "Let's have a look." 

As he examined the puppy, Daniel had felt Adrian's eyes on him. It wasn't unusual for clients to watch closely during check-ups, but Adrian's gaze had felt different—intense, almost studying him. It had made Daniel self-conscious, and he'd caught himself fumbling with his stethoscope at one point. 

"You're good at this," Adrian had said, his tone warm and appreciative. 

Daniel had cleared his throat, focusing on the puppy. "It's just a routine check-up. Your pup's lucky—no injuries, just a bit shaken up. Make sure he gets some rest and stays hydrated."