Chapter Twenty-Four
Adrian
I t’s been a long week, and it’s only Monday. So, I had no plans do anything other than go straight home, maybe order a pizza, and spend another few hours studying for this fucking histology exam in a week. It’s the topic I’ve been struggling with the most this semester. It’s the least hands on right now, so that’s probably why.
The thought of extra pepperonis and microscopic structures left my brain when I saw Blake’s car still in the parking lot. An hour after she got off.
After last night, I started to go into panic mode, ready to call the special forces in to find her. After taking a deep breath, I opted for trying her number instead. Thankfully, she answered on the second ring—even though I could tell all evening that she’d rather be anywhere than back at the clinic today.
That’s how I ended up here… standing in Benji the Beagle’s kennel while Blake sits on the floor in front of me.
When I asked where she was, in a small voice she admitted, “I’m not ready to go home… and he just looked so lonely, Adrian.”
Immediately, my feet took me inside and to the back of the building, where all the hospitalized animals stay.
Polly was here for most of the day, sitting with him while we were in and out to monitor his vitals and administer antibacterial medications. Now, he’s out for the night with the amount of pain medications he’s being given.
So, if I had to guess, no , Benji probably wasn’t too lonely when Blake found him.
She looks up at me and from her red eyes, and the faint tear streaks on her cheeks, I also don’t think it was him that needed the company.
I’m proud of Blake for not avoiding me today. It was what I expected after she was practically forced into a show of raw, unwanted vulnerability. And I’m getting to know her well enough, so I was prepared to be patient with her. I would give her a few days to regroup or offer silent support if necessary.
But when I got to work and caught Blake alone in the small kitchen area, picking up chocolate chip cookies, she surprised me. Without a word, she walked right up to me and tentatively opened her arms for a hug. Without a fucking second of hesitation, I closed the gap between us and held her for a couple of minutes. It didn’t feel like nearly enough time, but the gesture itself felt like I won the lottery.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I quietly greet her.
With the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen—with the exception of last night—she whispers, “Hey, Adrian.”
“Mind if I sit?”
She shakes her head and scoots over on the towel she must have laid on the floor. The kennel workers are great at keeping it tidy around here, but I don’t blame her for the precaution.
Benji’s lying next to her, so she can only offer me so much room unless half my butt hangs over the small ledge. It’s a tight squeeze but I don’t mind. Our sides are pressed against each other, and I can smell that fresh, melon scent I’ve started to associate with her.
After a second of hesitation, I watch from the corner of my eyes as Blake leans her head on my shoulder. I feel the same hesitation in my body as I reach out and let my hand settle on her thigh.
We’re both still in our scrubs, but it doesn’t matter. This still feels like an incredibly intimate moment with Blake. Actually, there have been a couple of times where we felt so close even the act of sex couldn’t connect us in the way those small moments have. Like when we quietly share tidbits about our lives up until now, or when she let me hold her while she broke down.
Until Blake, I only understood intimacy to be something physical. And it’s certainly not that I don’t want her in that way—because I sure as hell do—but I’m not in a rush.
Hell, I’m still waiting for the right opening to finally kiss her.
Everything else will come in time. And I’m realizing that this emotional intimacy may be just as new to Blake, and ten times as important.
I’m so lost in my own head that I only notice Blake slipping her arm under mine. She’s loosely holding onto my forearm while her other hand rests on Benji. Seeming lost in her own thoughts, I wonder if she’s realized that she’s slowly moving further and further into my space. Any more, and I’ll have to decide between slipping off the side or wrapping an arm around her.
As if it’s any choice at all.
After about fifteen minutes of sitting quietly together, I finally ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”
It’s a lame question but it feels like I’ve just dropped a bomb in our silent sanctuary. All evening, I caught myself wanting to ask if she’s okay, but it felt more like insincere filler. Because even with only a crumb of information, it’s obvious that Blake wouldn’t have had that strong of a reaction to running into some girls if she was okay.
And asking who those girls are feels too forward. Blake needs to guide the conversation here, even though there’s a protective voice in my mind screaming at me to find out what’s wrong and immediately make it better.
She looks down at Benji and twists her lips to the side. There’s a large part of me that expects her to ignore the question. And even if it kills me a little, I’d do it if that’s what she feels she needs.
But fuck , I want her to just take that last leap of trust toward me. It’s easy to assume who those girls are, or what they were to Blake in school. Except I don’t want to do that. It isn’t fair to start creating my own ideas of her, or her life, even if my intentions are good.
As I try to get myself to accept her silence, she finally starts talking. “Those girls in the gas station, they’re… I know the—they… they made my life hell, if you want the truth,” she finally spits out.
“I do,” I murmur close to her ear. “I want to know everything you’re willing to share.”
Turning to look up at me, her bottom lip trembles, but after a long moment, she nods.
She fucking nods.
And I know, even if it was made out of sheer desperation, Blake just made a decision about our blossoming relationship. It’s one that changes everything , and one that I know there won’t be any second chances if I fuck it up.