Chapter 6
Emon: Did you do what I asked?
Blake : Yes, are you going to tell me why you needed me to leave my car keys in the car?
Emon: You’ll see but for now you just gotta trust me. Go save them folk’s lives.
Blake: Fine
Blake couldn’t figure out what he was up to, but last night he’d requested that she leave her car keys in her car.
And she had obliged, but was unsure what he had up his sleeve.
Emon and Blake were headed toward being a couple.
She wasn’t ready to accept it, but that didn’t make it any less true.
He was on her bad and not letting up. They’d been texting and talking on the phone and occasionally seeing each other for coffee or he’d stop by her work to see her or vice versa.
He was becoming the highlight of her day, and she felt like today would be no different with him always plotting.
The day had been brutal. Three codes before noon, a difficult patient family, and charts that seemed endless.
Blake moved through it all with she could do it in her sleep, but her mind kept drifting to him.
This was possibly why she was dragging her feet on making things official.
He was distracting her, but she liked it.
“Blake, can you check on Mr. Lopez’s labs?”
“Already done. His blood sugar’s back to normal.”
“Girl, you on it today,” Nurse Cole commented. She was the charge nurse, and Blake loved working with her when they had shifts together. Nurse Cole reminded her of her mother, who she missed dearly. After her father passed, her mother tried to carry on, but a broken heart took her out.
“I’m trying to be. I feel like I’ve been slacking a little lately.”
“Hhmm they call it slacking now? I heard you got yourself a little boyfriend,” she mentioned with a knowing look. Blake couldn’t stand gossip, but she knew the word would get around eventually. He’d been known to pop up.
“Not exactly,” Blake said, updating her charts. “It’s... complicated.”
Nurse Cole raised an eyebrow. “That fine man that keeps bringing you lunch is ‘complicated’?”
Blake couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how kind he was without seeking anything in return. “He’s good to me. Maybe too good, huh?”
“Too good? Child, what’s really bothering you?” Nurse Cole had been doing this long enough to know when someone was holding back.
“I don’t know.” Blake sighed, finally looking up from her computer. “My career is just starting to take off. I’m almost done with school. What if getting serious with someone messes that up? And plus, the way we met is all a mess.”
“Let me tell you something,” Nurse Cole said, pulling up a chair. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years. You know what I regret? I regret not prioritizing myself. And that’s in all capacities. We aren’t meant to do life alone. I don’t know why we keep putting that on ourselves.”
“But—”
“There ain’t no ‘but’ about it.”
“I like him.” She sighed like a high school teenager seeing her crush for the first time after summer break.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but people make time for what they want to make time for, and the way you just melted, you may already be a goner.” She wasn’t lying. She liked him.
A lot.
The hours ticked by in the controlled chaos that was their emergency department. By the time seven o’clock rolled around, Blake’s feet were screaming like howling dogs and her scrubs had definitely seen better days. She was spent and possibly ready to quit altogether.
Walking toward the parking lot, she spotted a familiar figure leaning against her car.
Emon stood there in Nike shorts, a black tee, a gold chain resting on his chest, and socks and slides, looking like everything she needed after a long shift.
Her car was gleaming under the parking lot lights, clearly fresh from a detail.
“So, this is what you been up to?” she called out, trying to fight her smile as she approached.
Just the other day she’d mentioned how overwhelmed she felt between clinicals, studying, and trying to keep up with basic life stuff. “I can either keep the house clean or the car. Can’t do both right now.” She’d sighed. She should’ve known he was plotting. He was always plotting.
Always.
“You act like I had something better to do than make sure my baby is straight.” He pushed off the car, taking in how tired she looked.
“Car’s clean inside and out, oil changed, tires rotated, brakes good.
Even got that light on your dash to go away.
It looked like you had a graveyard of fries in this damn Tiguan too. ”
She covered her face, embarrassed. The gas station down the street from the hospital had the best french fries. She’d been meaning to clean them up.
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I know. Now get in. I’m taking you home and ordering you some food.”
Twenty minutes later, they were on her couch waiting for pizza. Blake had showered and changed into sweats, and Emon was flipping through Netflix like he belonged there, which in his mind, he did. Hell, he had bought the couch after all.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, tucking her feet under her and leaning on his shoulder.
“Anything.”
“That day... how did you handle the situation? With the people who shot you? Did you shoot them?”
His face hardened slightly because yeah, he did. That was the code. But it was the last time he’d ever put himself in that position again, and he damn sure wasn’t going to tell her what he’d done. “It’s handled. That’s all you need to know.”
“But—”
“Nah,” he cut her off gently but firmly. “Some things ain’t for you to carry. Just know I handled it, and it won’t ever be a problem again.”
She studied his face, wanting to push but understanding his protection. “Fine, but you can’t get mad when I worry.”
“I ain’t mad at that.” He pulled her closer. “But you got enough on your plate without worrying about old business that’s been handled. Now, what we watching?”
Blake settled against him, knowing he was right but also knowing this man was going to have her heart doing backflips, whether she was ready or not.
Whatever they settled on watching became background noise as they flowed into easy conversation. They talked about serious things, silly things, just life, per usual. She appreciated how he didn’t shy away from questions, both asking and answering.
“What are your non-negotiables?” he asked, pulling her legs into his lap.
He seemed genuinely intrigued by her mind and her thoughts.
She was different from what he was used to and what he’d dealt with as recently as a year ago.
Her intelligence challenged him in ways that made him want to be better, know more, and understand deeper.
“Like deal breakers? Red flags?” She thought for a moment before lifting her pointer finger.
“Lying. I can handle a lot, but don’t lie to me.
No one owes me a lie. Abuse of any kind, not standing for it.
You put your hands on me and you better tell your mama to bring her good wig out.
And I need someone who understands my ambitions.
Whatever those may be. I want to work, I want to climb higher, and I need that to be ok. ”
His fingers traced patterns on her ankle while he listened. “What else?”
“Your turn first. I answered first.”
“Aight. Loyalty. That’s number one. Can’t stand a sneaky woman or person. And I need someone who can stand on their own but still let me take care of them.” His eyes met hers. “Someone who sees me for who I am, not what I can give them.”
“Like how you took care of my car today?” she teased.
“Exactly like that. Now finish your list.”
“I need good communication. And...” she hesitated.
“And?”
“And I need to know that whatever happened that day won’t happen again. I can’t fall for someone just to lose them to the streets.”
He was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on her ankle. “I meant what I said. That life ain’t me anymore. I got too much to lose now.”
The way he looked at her when he said it made her heart skip. They both knew he wasn’t just talking about his business, but it didn’t need to be said out loud. He didn’t need a title or to rush her. Being in this space with him was easy, like a Sunday morning.
“Dreams?” she asked, wanting to pry into his brain a bit.
“Nope, don’t have any. Just go get it or do it.”
“That oddly makes sense. Hmm. Let me find out you’re a philosopher or something.”
“Kids?” he asked.
“Plenty. Why not fill a house with love?” He smiled at hearing that. He wanted a houseful, too. “Bodies?” she asked, joking as the doorbell rang. Emon laughed as he went to grab the pizza because no one had ever asked him that.
“Imma ignore that question because you trolling. Just know I know what I’m doing, baby,” he yelled to her while Blake grabbed plates, and he paid for the pizza. She came back, and they sat down and continued the night.
“Dream car?” he asked, wiping his mouth.
“Old school Bronco, all black with the sparkles in the paint, big wheels, nice tires, leather interior.”
“That shit sound nice as hell. Might have to be on some His and Hers type shit.”
“Relax,” she said, pushing him back.
He grabbed her by the wrist, and it seemed like the world stopped for a second. He cleared his throat, allowing her hand to fall to her lap. “I should be getting out of here. You need some sleep.”
“Yeah, I do,” she agreed, torn because she didn’t want the night to end, but he was right—she was tired. Now that she had showered and eaten, her bed called her name. Emon understood and made his way to the door. “Hey, thanks for today.”
“You’re welcome. Get some sleep. I’ll hit you when I make it in or tomorrow.”
“No, I’ll wait up. Text me, call me, or you know, whatever,” she said fumbling with her fingers.
“Ok.” He chuckled. “I got you, but it’s cool if you fall asleep on me.”
“I won’t.”
She leaned in for a hug, and he received her with open arms but kept it brief. She was afraid that if their bodies stayed connected too long, she would end up bent over the arm of her new couch.
As she closed the door behind him, Blake leaned against it, clenched her thighs together, and smiled. Whatever this was becoming, it felt right, and that scared her almost as much as it excited her.