Page 46 of When We Are Falling

I bristle at his words, feeling a surge of defensiveness. “So what if we are? It’s none of your business.”

Patrick turns to look at me, his expression hard. “It becomes my business when it’s about Blake. She’s Emmy’s best friend and we’ve both known her for a long time. You better treat her right, Ethan.”

A flash of anger. “I don’t need you to tell me how to treat Blake. Mind your own business.”

Patrick’s gaze doesn’t waver. “You can hardly blame me for being worried. You’ve been a player for a long time. You’ve got a reputation.”

Clenching my fists, trying to keep my cool. “Things are different this time. Blake’s different.”

Patrick studies me for a moment. “I hope so, for her sake. She’s been through enough. Don’t add to her troubles.”

I look away, the tension between us thick and unpleasant. “You don’t need to worry. I care about her. And I’m looking out for her.”

Patrick finishes his beer and stands up, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good. Just remember what I said.”

I watch him walk away, his words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I shouldn’t be surprised. Patrick has always felt a deep sense of responsibility for everyone. And he’s right about one thing: Blake has been through enough after losing Danny. I’m not about to be another source of pain in her life.

Draining the last of my beer, I head downstairs, the sound of my boots echoing off the wooden floor as I approach the bar. Blake is busy wiping down the counter. She looks up and smiles as I lean on the bar. “Don’t forget, we’re meeting at the wilderness rehabilitation center tomorrow.”

She gives me a playful salute, her green eyes sparkling. “Yes, boss.”

The place is almost empty now, just a couple of stragglers finishing their drinks. She’ll probably close up early like she has been recently—there’s no point staying open late when there are no customers. I lean over the bar, unable to resist the pull between us, and kiss her. She doesn’t pull away, her lips soft and inviting against mine.

Then her phone rings, and she pulls back, grabs for it quickly, her expression changing when she sees the caller ID. “It’s David,” she says, her voice tense. “Can you stay behind the bar while I take this?”

I watch as she steps away, her shoulders hunched as she answers the call. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but the worry on her face is pretty obvious. After a few minutes, she comes back, looking shaken. Reaching out, hugging her, feeling a surge of protectiveness as my arms wrap around her. “What happened?”

She takes a deep breath, eyes glistening. “David sounded really bad. He’s definitely using again. He’s still asking me to give evidence against Sylvia, and he’s angry. He doesn’t understand why I can’t help.”

Anger flares up inside me, hot and fierce. “I don’t trust him. He’s unstable.”

She shakes her head, her expression torn. “He’s my foster brother. He’d never hurt me. You don’t understand everything he’s been through. He’s struggling.”

I want to argue, but hold back. “Come over to my place,” I say instead. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

She shakes her head again. “I need to spend some time with my mom.”

“Alright. But I don’t like this.”

She leans in to kiss me long and hard. “Thank you for caring. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go on. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to at least stay here until you close up in case he turns up.”

Her brow furrows. “Is that why you’ve been hanging out here every night?”

My eyes narrow, not sure how to answer without lying to her.

She gently pushes against my chest. “Ethan, I appreciate you being here, but I need to handle this myself. You promised to respect my boundaries, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well consider this me setting a boundary. I don’t need you here playing bodyguard.” She leans in, her lips finding mine in a kiss that’s both tender and intense, lingering longer than usual. “I’ll be fine,” she says. “Just go.”

Reluctantly, I step back, heading out of the Tavern and walking to my truck, each step heavier than the last. Climbing in, I start the engine and drive down the street a little, parking out of sight in a spot with a clear view of the Tavern and her car. The minutes stretch, but I keep my eyes glued to the length of boardwalk in front of the bar, waiting.

Finally, her silhouette appears in the dim light, moving with purpose after she locks up. She heads to her car, her quiet footsteps echoing in the night, before she gets in, starts the engine, and drives away.

Satisfied that she’s safe, I finally head home, the image of her worried face after she spoke to David etched into my mind. She might think she’s safe. I’m not so sure.

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