Page 42 of The Secrets We Built Together

"You really amaze me, you know," I said, watching Blake twist a napkin in her lap. "The way you've taken Amelia in without a second thought... the way you already love her like she's yours."

She looked up at me, and for a second, I thought I'd said too much.

"I'm terrified I'm doing it all wrong," she admitted quietly.

"You're not."

"You don't know that."

"I know you."

That shut her up.

We ate in companionable silence for a minute before she nudged my shoulder. "So… you hiring Billie was kind of a surprise. I didn't even know you'd opened up the clinic yet."

"It's still in the works. Billie's going to head up the physio side of things. Growing up, she was best friends with my brother, Gage."

Blake nodded slowly. "Still no word?"

"No, and I hate that he felt like this was his only option. I don't think he could live with seeing Trace every day after what our mother made him do. But I wish he'd come to me. That I'd been a good enough brother that he could've talked to me. All of this would have been so different if he had. Trace and Delaneywouldn't have lost so much time. Cade would have had a father. Maybe I'd have come back sooner, or never even left to begin with."

I looked down at my plate, suddenly unsure why I was sharing that. I hadn't even realized that was how I'd felt until it all came out.

I looked at Blake sitting quietly beside me. At the way she patiently listened with absolutely no judgment. And the rest of it just came pouring out of me. A confession, and maybe even a step forward toward figuring all my shit out.

"I feel so lost right now. All my life there was a plan, and I followed it. I never even realized it wasn't my plan. That I'd been set on a path and just done what I was supposed to do. And now? Now, I don't have a path, I don't have a plan, and I've got absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do with my life."

Blake leaned back against the armrest, one knee pulled up. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Xander. None of us know what we're doing or where we're heading. Some people just find it easier to lay back and trust the current."

"Do you?"

She snorted. "Hell no. I'm fighting it every damn day. Like, for instance, I've worked all my life to have my art taken seriously. And someone did. They offered me an art show—just for me, for my work. That's the dream, right? The one thing I've been working toward all this time. I should be happy. But instead, I've been keeping it a secret because I'm too scared to admit I haven't painted a single new piece in two years. And if I'm being brutally honest with myself, the last time I did anything half-decent was probably four years ago."

I blinked. "Four years?"

She nodded.

"Do you know why?"

"If I knew that, I'd have fixed it already."

"Maybe you need to stop fighting the current too. Trust that it's taking you where you need to go."

She stared at me for a long time, something softening behind her eyes. "Most people would've told me to just try harder."

"I see you, Blake. I see how hard you try for everyone around you. Look at what you're doing for Amelia. If there's one person who doesn't need to try harder, it's you."

She didn't say anything for a second. Then she whispered, "Maybe there's something to this whole listening to the universe thing. It brought me here. To you."

She leaned toward me, her eyes drifting to my lips, and for a heartbeat, I thought she might kiss me. My pulse hammered in my throat as I caught the faint scent of her shampoo, mixed with baby powder and something uniquely Blake.

Then the baby monitor crackled with Amelia's restless whimper, and Blake pulled back, the moment shattering between us.

"I should check on her," she said, her voice husky.

I caught her wrist as she stood, my thumb brushing over her pulse point. "I've got this one. Go take that shower."

Our eyes met, and the tension between us was a living thing, crackling with everything unsaid. I watched her swallow, a flush creeping up her neck.

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