Page 115 of Ethan

"We're going to talk about this at some point."

"Not tonight." He fixed his gaze on mine. "Please don't tell the guys."

"I won't … but it will be a discussion during our next meeting. That's how it works. We tell each other stuff. No one will judge … no matter what you did."

"Noah worries enough already."

"Liam." I grabbed his arm. "It's not up for debate."

"Fine." He curled his legs up on the seat and turned from me. "I need to sleep."

"You and me both." My alarm would be going off in half an hour. It was going to be a long day. Made longer by wondering why Liam had found himself in the situation he had. It really wasn't like him. He was careful. Didn't drink too much and made sure his hookups were sane.

I looked at him, the light and shadow of the streetlights flickering over him. I hadn't checked his social media in days. Something had sent him on a collision course with himself.

I sighed and paid attention to the road.

If one of us was hurting—all of us were hurting.

The days were getting shorter. It was pitch black as I unlocked the backdoor of the coffee shop and went into the kitchen. I started with the croissants and had them in the oven when Claire arrived to start her day. She was trying a new lemon loaf with citrus icing on it.

"Good morning." Claire hung up her sweater on a hook inside the door.

I grinned. "I've almost finished packing."

"You're not having second thoughts?"

"Absolutely not."

Claire measured and dumped ingredients into one of the mixers. "Next you'll be getting a dog together." She flicked the power switch to on. The machine started a slow blend.

"Maybe. I like dogs." I retrieved some whipped cream out of the fridge and the choux pastry shells I had baked yesterday. The long ones I'd fill with cream and cover in chocolate. The round ones would only be filled. My cream puffs were in high demand. I had a lot of them to make.

Claire finished the last of a bag of flour and shoved it into an overflowing garbage can. My new manager had forgotten to take out the garbage last night. Claire grumbled and hauled the garbage bag out and tied it. "That's the second time she's forgotten to deal with the garbage."

"I'll talk to her."

The door banged shut as Claire left into the back alley.

It immediately flew open, and Claire raced in. "Phone 911!" She shoved me aside and frantically dug around on a shelf above the sink.

I pulled out my phone. "What am I calling about?"

I chased after her as she went back outside. I recognized the black case in her hand.

It was one of our Narcan kits.

Fuck.

"911. Fire. Police. Or ambulance."

"Ambulance. We have something overdosing in our back alley." I gave her the address and stayed on the line with her. I dropped onto my knees beside Claire. She had the kit open.

Jeezus.

It was Lucas. Lying there, slumped over, lifeless. I felt for a pulse. It was faint. I moved out of the way as Claire injected the Narcan. She checked the time on her phone, and we waited for what seemed like forever. The emergency operator kept talking to me. I told her we had started a three-minute countdown. Just past two minutes, Lucas gasped to life.

"It's okay." I put my hand on his shoulder to encourage him to lie down. He struggled and then relaxed. "I'm here, Lucas. Try to lie still. The ambulance is coming."

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