Chapter Forty
Adrian
O ne hand carrying a bag of food and the other holding Luke’s small hand, I lead us back to the table where Blake’s currently waiting with the older two Paulson boys. We had plans to come to the Loop for dinner tonight, since we haven’t had a chance all week, and it’s become our thing over the last couple of months.
When she texted me earlier, trying to cancel—the boys’ mom needed help so she could pick up an extra shift—I wasn’t easily deterred. Not totally sure why they trust me with their kids after what happened with Zippy, Erika and Kevin have welcomed me any time I’ve shown up to hang out with Blake while she’s babysitting.
Blake still had to call Erica to ask if it was okay that we took the boys out for dinner. She was on the phone for a while, and I could hear her from the kitchen. It didn’t sound like Erica was against us taking the boys, but more like she felt guilty. Blake reassured her multiple times that they didn’t need to pay us back, and Blake would cover the cost for the boys.
Mikey, Shawn, and Luke stood in shocked silence for about five seconds before they broke out in a quiet cheer at the prospect of going to The Loop for dinner. And then I remembered Blake had mentioned the Paulsons live paycheck to paycheck, and it’s a big reason she didn’t wanna call her dad when Zippy got hurt.
As the boys ran off to gather their shoes and coats, I stepped into Blake’s space. Wrapping an arm around her waist before placing a soft kiss against her lips, I made it clear that neither she nor the Paulsons were paying for anything tonight.
I was happy to do it. Not only did helping the community in any way—big or small—make Blake happy, I was also starting to love this town as my own. And I don’t mind taking care of the three boys that were slowly becoming our sidekicks.
That’s how we ended up here—the five of us at The Loop with a dish or two from each of the food trucks. Luke casually mentioned that they’d never been to The Loop. I saw the wrinkle in Blake’s brow before she looked away from him, blinking quickly.
Truthfully, the three little dudes are pretty cool. It’s been four weeks since Benji the Beagle went home, and thankfully, it’s been pretty quiet since then.
Other than the chaos that spending time with the Paulson kids brings, I’ve had time to focus on the end of my first semester. Blake’s been great about how busy I’ve been. We’ve spent a few nights together since Halloween, even though we haven’t gone further than pleasuring each other with our mouths.
But she doesn’t mind when I have to go a few nights without our evening calls. And a lot of the time, when she is at the apartment, she’s quietly watching TV and working on different knitting projects. She just wants to be there with me as badly as I always want her around me. The most exciting part of the last few weeks for Blake was getting to visit Margo and Meera in New York for the week of Thanksgiving. Meera had a huge solo in the winter recital, and I guess it’s rare that a freshman is granted such a major part.
Much like their visit for fall break, Blake was radiating genuine happiness for weeks after. The kind that only seems to come out when she’s with the two of them.
As I set down the two stacks of waffles, I round out our selection for the evening. Birthday cake and peppermint mocha waffles, a rack of ribs and potato salad, way too many chicken tacos, a medium pepperoni pizza, and five homemade dog treats from the pet centered truck that opened a week ago. Luke was so excited when he saw it, it only felt right to get the smallest member of their family something too.
“Adrian,” Blake quietly chastises, but there’s a small affectionate tug to her lips. “This is way too much food.”
“I wanted the boys to get a taste of everything. It’s the only way for them to know which is their favorite.” I wink at them. Blake made me try each one over the course of a few weeks for the same reason. She shakes her head as she starts opening the boxes. “Plus, whatever we don’t finish, we can take back for Kevin and Erica.”
Blake’s hand slams down on the waffles lid. “Those are for dessert.” Mikey rolls his eyes and goes back to his taco. I can’t stop the derisive snort that slips out. Blake always has the waffles for dinner. Although I’ve seen the boys on a sugar high before, and I have to agree with her on this.
Her scolding—yet hot as fuck—look is cut short when Shawn says, “Dad loves ribs, but he never has time to grill. He’s always sad about it.”
“Let’s save those for him,” Mikey instructs. Even if he drives her crazy, I can see the care Blake feels for them. It’s written clearly across her face, and it’s reflected back by each one of the boys every time they look at her. They respect her more than she might see, but they obviously feel comfortable and safe enough with her to just be young, rambunctious boys too.
“Nah, you guys eat whatever you want. We can pick up more on the way out if we need.”
All four of their smiles are so wide, but the way Blake’s looking at me feels like maybe I’m her superhero.
And coming from Blake, that’s not a small thing.
Over the course of a few weeks, she’s opened up to me in such subtle yet meaningful ways. Her smiles grace her plush lips more freely, and there’s less hesitation on her part when she wants to touch me—or for me to touch her.
The boys eat a little of everything, but there’s still plenty to take back to their parents.
After we pack it up, Blake has the idea to walk along the shore after. Her unspoken intention is that the boys will burn off some of their energy. It’s late in the afternoon, the winter days ending early. The sun is just peaking over the horizon when Mikey runs back to Blake and me, cupping something in his hands.
“I got this for you,” he chimes, his voice a little too sweet to mean anything good.
As if on instinct, Blake takes a step back and squints at him. Considering he was just digging into the still wet sand from the high tide earlier, I don’t blame her.
He steps forward, pushing his hands closer toward her, but she gives him a look that clearly says, don’t fuck with me.
“Alright, bud.” With a hand to his shoulder, I stop him from getting closer to her. He looks up at me with a mix of fear and slight betrayal. Chuckling, I kneel down so we’re at eye level. Shawn and Luke walk up behind him, and I wait until they all can hear. “You three are done messing with Blake, understand me? She only stopped wrapping her ankle about two weeks ago.” Gesturing toward her behind me, their eyes follow my hand and move back to me in sync.
“It was an accident,” Mikey pouts.
Nodding, I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “I know it was, or I wouldn’t come to hang out with you guys. And I definitely wouldn’t be okay with Blake still babysitting you three if I thought you had actually wanted to hurt her.” His shoulders relax at my words. “ But , enough is still enough.”
“Okay,” Shawn agrees easily, Luke nodding behind him.
Mikey still looks unsure and as his eyes go back up to Blake, I can see him conceding before he mutters, “Yeah, okay. No more.” Gently, he drops the sand crab back onto the ground.
“ Ugh ,” Blake spats, and the reaction seems like a big enough victory based on Mikey’s grin.
Shaking my head, I ask dumbfounded, “Where’d you even find that this time of the year?”
“I had to dig really far,” he admitted, a little pleased with himself.
Blake’s laughing at his mostly harmless failed prank when we hear a loud yelping sound and a man’s distressed shout.
Even from here, we can see his dog is limping as he tries to move away from his owner’s prying. The three boys and Blake all moved closer to me on instinct, as if I’m the protector in this situation.
But I don’t think they need protecting… I think he needs help.
As if reading my thoughts, Blake looks up at me with a worried expression. “We can’t just leave him.”
There isn’t a lot I can do for him if his dog is seriously injured, and I have a feeling this will be another incident where Blake won’t want to call her dad for help. Against my better judgement, I nod. “Okay. Just stay here.”
Giving Blake a look over my shoulder, one that’s begging her to stay where she is, I walk toward the man who’s muttering too low to make out the words, but the distress in his voice is clear. He’s up on the sidewalk, under a streetlight. I kneel down next to him when I see that his lab mix is bleeding from its foot—no, its toe. It’s a fairly common injury in dogs, especially one that looks to be around ten years old.
“Hey, man,” I greet him, looking around for what could have snagged the nail.
He turns toward me with a confused look, grief pushing through to the front anyway. “Hello,” he quietly, but politely responds as I notice the deep crack in the sidewalk. It doesn’t look that bad from the way the weeds have started to grow through the broken cement. If you look closer, you can see that it’s a few inches deep and not very wide, making it the perfect thing to catch a nail.
“Can I try to help?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I tell him honestly, “I’m not a vet but I am going to school to be one. I can stop the bleeding, and once I do, I can see how bad it is. More times than not, it can heal on its own.”
“Mr. Gibson?” Blake’s concerned voice rips through the air behind me. I turn, wanting to chastise her about coming up to a strange man, even if she seems to know him. “Mr. Gibson,” she repeats, “I’m Blake. Your old student, Blake M—”
“Miller. Blake Miller. Yes, I remember you.” More relaxed, he adds, “You were always such a good student. Just like your brother… but not like that damn Davies boy.”
Her head actually falls back on a laugh as she kneels down with the boys tucked behind her. “Asher, yeah. He always gave you guys a run for your money.”
“Makes a man want to retire, I’ll tell you that,” he jokes, his face immediately morphing into regret at his own words.
I’m not sure what’s going on in his life, but Blake seems to know. She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder in a reassuring way, similar to how I was with Mikey early. “We can help.” Her brows scrunch and she looks to me with pleading eyes, in addition to the three sets looking over her shoulder at me. “Right?”
“Yeah, I think I can help. Are you okay staying here while I run to the store?”
The four of them nod and settle on the grass between the sidewalk and the beach. Luke crawls into Blake’s lap, like he often does when he needs comfort away from his parents. Shawn and Mikey sit sentry over the dog, petting him in a soothing manner. As I wait for a car to pass, I hear a choked sob breaking from the older man’s throat as I cross the street toward the general store.