Page 30 of When We Are Falling

Ethan

The steady beepof my alarm pulls me from sleep, the room still shrouded in pre-dawn darkness. Stretching out, arching my back a little; my king-sized bed feels too big, too empty.

It’s hard to believe it was only a few days ago that Blake was here, the perfect smooth of her naked body right where I’m lying. My morning erection throbs as I reach over to silence the alarm.

Bandit lets out a quiet woof, raising his head from his cushioned bed in the corner.

“Alright, buddy, I’m up.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up with a stretch.

Bandit’s tail thumps against the floor as he waits by the bedroom door, ears perked and eyes alert. I follow him to the back door, opening the bifolds and letting him out into the already warm morning air. As he trots around the grass, sniffing and doing his business, I take a moment to enjoy the early dawn,the world still and quiet, while getting a few minutes of low morning light to help set my circadian rhythm.

Once Bandit finishes, he bounds back inside. I pour kibble into his bowl, watching as he eagerly digs in. The sight of his gray muzzle makes me feel a little wistful. He’s getting older, but still has that spark that made me fall in love with him when he was just a puppy.

I remember the day I picked him up from the pound like it was yesterday. He’d been given up by his first family because he was too much to handle. I knew from the moment I saw him, bouncing around in his kennel with those big, hopeful eyes, that he was worth taking a chance on. “Most good things in life require work, huh, bud?”

He glances up from his food bowl, holding my gaze for a moment before getting back to eating.

It took a lot of patience and effort to train him, to make sure he had enough stimulation to keep him happy. We jogged down to the boardwalk morning and night, played games of fetch, and worked on every trick in the book.

There were days when I wondered if he’d ever calm down and stop chewing anything and everything left on the ground. But he did, eventually. And it was worth every lost shoe along the way. Now he’s just about the best company I could ask for. The goodest of all good boys.

“Ready for another day of clean-up, buddy?”

Bandit looks up at me again, lifts his head, and woofs.

“But first, workout and breakfast.”

I walk to my home gym, Bandit following behind and settling down with one of his favorite chew toys. It’s a ritual, this early morning workout, a way to clear my head and prepare for the day ahead.

Skipping for a few minutes to warm up, before starting with a series of stretches, enjoying the satisfying pull of my muscles asI work out the kinks and tight spots. The movements are second nature by now, each stretch and bend a part of the strict routine I’ve developed over the years.

Moving to the pull-up bar, I grip the cool metal overhead with both hands and start my reps, the burn in my arms and shoulders sending first pain, then the soothe of endorphins. The rhythm of the exercise centers me, each pull-up a reminder of my own strength and discipline. But even as I focus on my form, my mind drifts to Blake and everything that happened the other night.

Putting aside how fucking hot it was to see her come undone on my bed, seeing her open up, hearing her talk about her time in foster care, hit me harder than I expected. I just wish she hadn’t closed herself off ever since it happened, acting like none of it happened and we’rejust friendsat the oil spill clean up.

Gritting my teeth, pulling myself up, muscles straining, I picture the look in her eyes when she talked about her foster mother, Sylvia. That guy, David, sounds like he’s been through hell and back, and Idofeel sorry for him. But there’s worry there too, a gnawing concern that won’t let go.

I drop from the bar, breathing hard, and move to the bench press. As I set the weights, pick up the bar, and lie back, Blake’s impossibly beautiful face fills my mind. Her strength, her vulnerability, it’s all tangled up together.

I push the bar up, the strain right across the band of muscles in my chest, but my thoughts are on her. David’s presence in her life is a wild card, and despite her telling me she can handle this, I need to stay close, keep an eye on her in case this dude comes back.

Because if something happened to her... I push harder, the weights moving smoothly overhead, molars grinding together. If something happened to Blake, I’d never forgive myself. I’m theonly one who knows about David right now, the only one who can step in if things get out of hand.

But it’s more than that.

I set the bar back in place and sit up, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The truth is, I’ve fallen harder and faster for her than I thought was possible. It’s not just about protecting her; it’s about being there for her, showing her she doesn’t have to face this alone.

Standing, moving to the next set of exercises, determination settles like a steel plate in my chest. Blake needs someone she can rely on, someone who won’t let her down. Even if she can’t see that herself.

After finishing my workout, I head to the kitchen and make a quick protein smoothie, throwing in some spinach and berries for good measure. As the blender roars to life, my eyes drift to my vape sitting on the counter.

I think about Blake’s words from the other day, the concern in her eyes when she mentioned me smoking. Maybe it’s time to quit. But old habits die hard. With a sigh, I shove the vape into my pocket, then check my emails on my cell.

There’s an update from the mayor, and I skim through it. The damage from the oil spill is worse than we thought, spreading further along the shoreline and wreaking havoc on the local wildlife and ecosystem. The Coast Guard is stepping up their efforts with more booms, skimmers, and surveillance, but it’s clear we’ve got a long road ahead.

The mayor’s email notes that the cleanup operations are ramping up, and she makes special mention of the Valiant Hearts, noting that we need more volunteers and donations. Despite the grim news, there’s a determination in her words, a sense that together, we can tackle this disaster head-on.

I set my cell down. Today’s our last day on the beach before we switch to operating the skimmers. Patrick came up with theidea of rotating the groups to keep everyone energized, and I have to admit, it’s a smart move. Keeps the work fresh, gives everyone a change of pace.

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