Page 51 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

“Yup, fucking scary. He was worried. Well, we both were.”

Damn. For someone who does as much illegal shit as we do, Leon always obeys traffic laws. Jasper isn’t joking.

Blake climbs into the passenger seat, carrying the bag from DoorDash. Everything’s cold by now, but at least it’s edible.

“Hey, what’s in the bag?” Jasper reaches over the seat and grabs it before Blake can answer. “Ohh, looks good.”

“Don’t even—” I say but it’s too late. He’s already biting into a pancake. “What the hell? That’s Blake’s food.”

“It’s fine. I’m too nervous to eat.” She turns to look at Jasper. “Have at it.”

“I’ll order you more when we get home.” I scowl at Jasper in the rearview. He can be such a dumbass.

While I drive, I rest my hand on her thigh. The connection is the only thing keeping me grounded. Keeping me from driving to that fucking club and shooting empty walls and open spaces.

“You okay over there?” Blake covers my hand with her palm and squeezes gently. It’s like she can read my silence or even the spaces between my words. I swallow and nod, tracing circles on her thigh.

“I’ll feel better once we get home.”

I park down the street and call Leon. “Hey, can you check the place out before we come in?”

“Already on it,” he says. “Stay on the phone. I’ll give you the okay when I take a peek around.”

Jasper taps my shoulder. “Let me out. I’ll go too.”

After I let him out, I stay outside the car and take a few cleansing breaths. Then I text the investigator, Ray.

Me: I have another address I need you to watch. And stay armed.

From now on, Blake won’t breathe without me right beside her. No one will hurt my girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

BLAKE

I don’t knowhow I haven’t fallen asleep during my professor’s monologue. Ethics isn’t normally this boring, but if I have to hear him repeat the same story about the time his colleague asked him to violate HIPAA, I might die.

I peek toward the front of the class, where Ethan would normally sit, and find the spot taken by someone else. Damon would lose his shit if I called Ethan, but even so, I’m considering it. There’s something weird about how we left things. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth. And this is a guy who’s stumbled into class on more meds than most post-op patients get.

Maybe it’s more of my self doubt creeping in. I’m very much done with Ethan, but closure is good.

“Your next case discussion is posted. I’ll be at a conference but my aid is available to answer any questions you may have.” While he’s still rambling on, I click on my list of open assignments and read the topic.

Balancing Professional Ethics and Public Safety.

The case describes a young doctor who happens to treat a patient with multiple gunshot wounds. The patient admits to the doctor that he was involved in criminal activity, though no specific details are given. My heart pounds as I read the questions that follow, one in particular.

At what point, if any, would the doctor be ethically obligated to report their suspicions?

“That’s all for today. I look forward to lively discussion on this topic when I return from my trip.” I’m so caught up rereading the assignment that I don’t realize class has ended until Julie taps me on the shoulder.

She looks down at me with a grin that’s far too bright for someone who just finished an ethics lecture. “Hey girl, want to grab lunch?”

Is it already lunch time? I stand and pack my stuff while trying to think of an excuse. “Hey. Long class, huh?”

We walk out together and stop outside the entrance. It’s a sunny autumn day, my favorite kind of weather. I shrug off my sweater and tie it at my waist to get some sun on my arms. “So long, but I don’t know, this kind of stuff interests me. You know the whole ‘would you steal a loaf of bread to feed your starving family type thing.’” She bumps my shoulder. “How’s it going? Haven’t seen Ethan around.”

And there’s the main reason I need an excuse to get out of lunch.

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