Page 8 of Surviving the Break
“You’ll have to help me. I can’t afford to accidentally lose a finger.” He held up a hand, wiggling all five of them. And I wanted to lick...all five of them.God help me.This was exactly why him being around would be a bad idea.
Assisting him would require me getting behind him again, this time without the desk as a buffer. I’d literally be folded over him. I shot him a calculated stare that asked if he was fucking with me. I didn’t want to be the type of guy who assumed that because we got each other off one drunken night, he wanted me still. Sure, he alluded to being open to a repeat when he left me his number, but that was months ago. If he was flirting with me, I’d need to shut it down quickly. I brushed off the thought for now. “All right,” I said, before the sound of glass shattering and a recognizable, high-pitched cry rang through the air from down the hall. “Debbie,” I breathed, running out of the class with Ash and everyone else close behind. I skidded to a halt in front of the nurse’s office. Debbie sat wailing on the floor surrounded by lollipops and the broken glass jar that had contained them. She clutched her bloody knee to her chest. I hadn’t noticed she’d left my classroom.
Ash carefully made his way over, helped her off the floor, and sat her on a table. I pointed him to the cabinet with the first-aid kit, then told the kids watching from the door that class was over for the day. Everyone scattered, and I tasked Latoya with finding Pete.
“No,” Debbie cried as Ash approached with supplies in hand. “It’s gonna hurt.” She clamped her eyes shut, a hand thrown out to hold him back. The other one guarded her knee. I went in search of a broom.
“You’ll be in more pain if we don’t get all the glass out, sweetie.” He slipped a pair of latex gloves on before retrieving a swab from the kit. “Let’s make a deal. If I can get you to forget about the pain, you get to have one of those lollipops you snuck in here for.”
He sat on the rolling exam stool, investigating her knee without touching.
“You can’t,” she said, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, her tears no longer flowing. Already, Ash had calmed her some with his soothing tone. I dumped the last of the glass in the garbage bin, then leaned against the wall across the room.
“Are you not even going to give me a chance?” he asked, and Debbie appeared torn, not registering his hurt expression as feigned. Debbie reluctantly nodded, shifting her knee in Ash’s direction.
“Now, you look at the ceiling and count to fifty, and I’ll sing. Deal?”
She nodded sharply again, and I couldn’t help my excitement at the prospect of hearing his baritone voice carry a tune. Until he began singing “The Wheels on the Bus.” Debbie clamped both hands over her mouth to cover her laugh, and with Ash focused on her knee, he couldn’t see she wasn’t looking at the ceiling.
Debbie and I watched each other, both attempting to not make a sound through our amusement. Ash sounded horrendous. She dropped her hands and mouthed, “I’m not a baby.”
I held my arms out and shrugged. Bonus points for him not caring about his embarrassment. He had her all patched up by the time the wipers wentswish, swish, swish.
Ash helped her down, and I handed her a lollipop. She ran into Pete’s arms as he stepped into the room. “I’ll meet you guys up front in a few minutes,” I said. He nodded and walked off with Debbie tucked under his arm.
“You’re good with kids,” I said.
He removed his gloves and dumped them along with the bloody gauze into the red biohazard bin on the wall. “I've had to patch up a knee or two.”
Something dark passed over his eyes, something I didn’t think I had the right to touch on. “Hmm,” I said.
“I could say the same about you. You’re a natural with them.” He cocked his head at what I assumed must have been something equally dark passing over my eyes too, but he had no qualms about bringing it up. “What was that look for?”
“Nothing.” I pushed off the wall. “I’ve gotta get them home, so—”
“Yeah. Of course. I need to get going myself.” He raised his wrist to check the time. “Before you go, can you put me on the schedule?”
“Yeah, sure—”
“For the same evenings that you’re here. It’d be great to get to know you better. It appears we’ll be in each other’s lives.” There went that grin again. “You know, because you’re friends with my best friend's husband.”
“Isn’t your line of work unpredictable?” Babies didn’t come into the world according to our time table.
“Let’s start with one day a week and see how it goes.” He wouldn’t be deterred.
“First, we’ll need to work a few things out. We’ll need to discuss how you see yourself contributing.”
“Not a problem.” He stepped closer.
Without really knowing him, I hated him for smelling so enticing. I got out of there fast, and as soon as I got home that evening, I reflected on my past. The perfect extinguisher for any fire.
ICROSSEDmy backyard to Justin’s house before heading to work, knocking on the opened sliding door before walking through and into the living room, which overlooked the kitchen. Justin stood by the kitchen island chugging a bottle of water, sweat-slicked from his morning run. Pluto rushed to his side.
“Hey, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He kneeled to greet Pluto.
“I’ve gotta get down to a job site. I wanted to talk to you first.” I remained close to the patio door, not intending to stay long.
“Oh. Okay.” He stood, pouring water into the doggie bowl he kept for when Pluto came over, then ventured into the living room and sat on the couch. “Have a seat at least. You’re making me nervous standing there like security.” He gestured to the chair across from him.
