Page 89 of Wild Embers
LEVI
Some memories linger longer than others. No matter how many times I replay the attack from last week, the outcome never changes, despite how badly I want it to.
I can't move. I can't scream. It's like a nightmare where my feet are glued to the ground.
Blake tackles a man twice her size. She hits the concrete. I freeze.
Every damn time.
The sound of her body striking the floor echoes in my head louder than the barking dogs and the clinic, louder than my own heartbeat.
I should have protected her.
Instead, she protected me.
I'm rechecking the schedule for today at the clinic's front desk when the door swings open and a gust of wind chills the entire room.
I glance up, expecting a client. Instead, I find the source of my peace, but she's also the source of several recent headaches.
Blake breezes in, dressed in her usual sweater, leggings, and boots, with Bear trotting at her side.
That dog has somehow become a permanent fixture in my clinic along with his owner.
And I'm not upset about it.
Smirking at her, I ask, “Are you here to babysit me too?”
My question pulls Blake up short. “Babysit?” she repeats like she’s offended. “Can’t a girl?—”
I finish her question for her, lifting a brow. “Check in on her boyfriend?”
She squints, dissecting my words, then concludes, “You’ve been talking with Santiago.”
“He’s my best friend,” I reply by way of explanation.
Blake nods. “Obviously.”
“And a little more,” I add.
Blake gawks, her eyes blinking with incredulity and her lips forming a mute O. “I—I didn’t—Did I—If I have caused any—” she stammers.
I hold up my hand, cutting her off. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
She analyzes my words again, directing herself to the correct conclusion. “It’s an open relationship.”
“Yes.”
The line of Blake's brow jumps. “Oh. Do people…”
“Know about us?” I finish for her again then shrug. “Probably. We don’t flaunt it, and it’s not like Santiago gives a spiel to his hookups.”
“Walk?” She questions.
I dipped my head in confirmation. “Of course.”
“Is he…” she trails off, like she's searching for the right words, something she seems to be struggling with today.
“Supportive?” I failed to keep the smile from my face. Her inquiry is predictable yet amusing.
