It's been a long time since I was this happy.

I honestly can't even remember when I looked forward to each and every day. Yeah, work still sucks, but after work I get to see Eric, guaranteed. And usually we're able to sneak some time together before I have to go back. His place. My place. He's even pulled me into the kitchen when nobody else was back there. Just for a kiss and a look at "where the magic happens," but it still felt intimate.

I don't really know when things changed between us. Maybe that night he told me about Blake, or maybe it was the night I told him about Maria. Either way, we've gone from an attraction neither of us were ever going to act on to something that feels a lot deeper.

I'm not really in a hurry to label it. Feels like it could jinx things. Right now, I'm just happy letting it be whatever it's going to be. As long as Eric's safe and happy and a part of my life, that’s the most important thing right now.

It does make work pass slower than it ever has before, though. Every minute spent sitting on my ass, watching security cameras and waiting for something to happen is a minute wasted. But eventually my shift ends, and I blow out of that hospital like a bat out of hell, damn near leaving a smoke trail behind me. I don't have any real friends there, so nobody's bothered to ask why the overnight security guy is in such a hurry to leave—outside of the usual. And honestly, I'm happy enough wearing a secret smile on my way out the door.

The sun's just starting to come up as I head out through one of the hospital's side doors. The ER gets a little crazy overnight, but other than that the parking lot is pretty empty. Even still, employees who aren't doctors have to park in the garage across the street, and I hike over there, pulling my phone out for the hundredth time in the past few hours since Eric's been awake.

Reeve: Just got off.

Eric: Without me?

Eric: Wow.

Eric: I see how it is.

I smirk at that and roll my eyes, tapping in a response.

Reeve: Yeah, sorry.

Reeve: Probably be awhile before I'm ready to go again.

Eric: Longer than 7 minutes this time?

A flush overtakes me as I read those words and I lick my suddenly dry lips. Right before I left for work we had kind of a marathon session. It's never taken me long to get it up again when I'm inspired, but seven minutes is a new personal best for me. I'm not sure I could've even managed that when I was eighteen.

Reeve: Well it'll take me at least 30 to get there, so yeah.

I turn into the parking garage and make for the stairwell. Eric and I both have gone without much sleep before to spend our "night" torturing each other when we were at work. It's hard not being able to do anything about it for that time apart, but we always make up for it afterward.

Seems like today's shaping up to be the same.

Footsteps echo in the stairwell below me, but I barely hear them. I'm focused on my phone, and then on trying to remember where I parked my car. I don't even realize anyone's that close to me until they speak.

"You're Reeve Barnett, right?"

I look over my shoulder, finding a guy who's just a few steps away from me. That alone raises the hairs on the back of my neck, and my expression sours as I turn to fully face him.

Whoever this asshole is, he's getting in the way of me reading Eric's latest text.

"I know you?" I ask, not bothering to confirm his question.

If I were anybody else, I might worry about the fact that some guy apparently followed me up here. But anyone looking to pick a fight with me is going to have a bad time, and this guy especially. He's the definition of white bread. Swept back hair, polo shirt, and a pair of Dockers that look like they're wrinkle-resistant.

"Not directly. You know my boyfriend, though." The smile he wears makes my stomach turn. "Tall. Covered in tats. Really good cook."

Shards of ice tear through my body as I realize just who I'm dealing with. Of course. This unassuming, preppy-looking piece of shit is Blake. I should know better than to assume a guy's harmless just because of how he looks. This cockstain is as dangerous as they come.

Unfortunately for him, I'm even worse.

"Seems to me you waived the right to call him your boyfriend when you started beating up on him," I say, straightening out my posture so I'm standing at my full height, about a half foot taller than Blake.

"Is that what he told you?" He flashes me that smile again. At one point, it was probably bleach white and perfectly straight, but it looks like he didn't have the best dental plan in jail. "He's a bit of a drama queen. We had an argument or two, sure. I did something stupid. But I'm better now, and I'm here to get back what he promised me."

What a fucking waste of life. Just seeing his face and that fake-ass smile is making me want to fly into a rage, but I know I won't be any better than him if I resort to violence.

That doesn't mean I can't make my feelings known, though.

"I'm gonna give you one chance to walk away. Get the fuck out of Glen Springs, go live your miserable life someplace else, and don't ever contact Eric again."

Amusement lights in his eyes, and even that expression comes across as predatory when it flickers across his face. "You really think I'm going to take a threat from a washed-up cop?"

I step closer to him. He doesn't flinch or back away—he's too stupid to know that'd be a much smarter choice. Instead, he puffs up and tries to make the difference in our size less obvious.

"If you know what's good for you, yeah. Because this washed-up cop knows about a hundred different ways to get you out of the picture for good, without anybody ever finding out what really happened to you."

His nostrils flare, and it isn't fear I see in his eyes, but anger. That sort of self-righteous anger a toddler flies into when somebody's taken his favorite toy away. And I'll give him credit. I'm so focused on what I'm going to do if he throws a punch at my face that I'm caught completely off guard when he jabs me in the stomach, forcing the air out of me.

He goes for a follow up, but it's just raw, flailing emotion. So much so that I'm able to recover and grab his wrist, using his momentum to knock him off balance. In seconds, I've got him by the collar and I'm shoving him hard against the grimy ass wall. His back makes a solid, satisfying sound when it connects, and his eyes widen. For the first time, he looks like he's actually afraid.

"Don't fuck with me, Blake. You leave now, I'll let you go. But you're not getting anywhere near Eric again, I guarantee that."

He tries to struggle out of my grip and I shove him back again before letting go. The look I give him must make my point well enough, because he gets the hell out of that parking garage, and I can hear his steps retreating down the stairs.

I'm not naïve enough to think this is over, but if Blake thinks I'm exaggerating, he's going to be in for a fucking shock. Eric means too much to me, and right now his safety is my number one concern.

As I get into my car, some part of me wishes I could lean on the law. But since he skulked off, I know there's nothing the sheriff's office is going to be able to do about it. If I'm lucky, they might start the process to get a restraining order filed. And I'm sure as fuck not going to gamble Eric's safety on a flawed system. Not when I know just how badly it can turn out.

But maybe there is something I can do. A little extra insurance. Pulling out my phone, I scan through my contacts and dial Parker's number.

"Hey. Remember the guy I had you looking for? I need you to get ahold of his parole officer. I’ve got something that belongs to him."

* * *

When I pull into the diner, I've got every intention of telling Eric what happened between me and Blake.

But the second he sees me, he's just got this huge, bright smile on his face that lights up the whole room. He spots me through the service window, and within moments, he's walking out of the kitchen and striding right toward me. With no hesitation at all, he grabs the collar of my security uniform, pulls me to him, and kisses me.

There are some whistles and cat calls coming from the other customers, and Eric grins against my lips before drawing back.

"Didn't know you were getting a show with your breakfast, did you?" he asks to resounding approval from the pretty busy diner. He smooths out my collar, then says, "No omelet today. I made you something special."

And there's such pride, such joy in his eyes that all I can do is let him shepherd me over to my usual table. Over the past few days, I've seen Eric get his confidence back. He's not living every moment wondering when Blake's going to pop back into his life. He's just… living.

I can't take that from him, and I fucking refuse to let Blake do it.

If he's smart, he'll leave Glen Springs for good and Eric never has to know. And if he's not smart… Eric never has to know about that, either.

No matter what, I'll take care of it. I'm not going to let Blake—or anyone else—hurt him ever again.