Page 51 of Blackmail

Brennan: Seriously, though. I want everyone to stay safe. I know we all get used to the storms around here, but this bitch is looking like no joke. You guys need help or a place to stay, call me ASAP.

Eve: Why you gotta call her a bitch just because she’s a hurricane? If they gave her a male name, you know you’d call it assertive.

I shake my head, dropping my phone back into my pocket. I love these guys. It also sucks, though, because escorting isn’t a long-term gig for anyone. I’ll miss them when I’m gone.

While a few of us have been at it for a while, Dean the longest in our group, it’s hard to become friends with people and then they leave. Maybe we’ll all stay in touch, even after we’ve moved on. Probably not.

Another text comes through from Brennan, this one just to me.

Brennan: Got a call out for a BF experience. You in?

No, I definitely don’t want to do a boyfriend experience. No way it’s happening anyway with a hurricane coming. I’ll hold off a bit on answering. Brennan’s impatient. If he doesn’t hear back soon he’ll ask someone else.

As I’m about to put my phone away, I get an incoming call from DON’T FUCKING ANSWER, which is how I put Sebastian in my contacts. For good measure I added that emoji of a red circle with a slash going across the center.

But I answer anyway, because I’m weak. Also, I reason with myself that it could be important. Maybe he urgently needs to bend me over his desk again.

The clap of thunder overhead when I lift the phone to my ear sounds ominous as fuck. It also kind of turns me on. This is a problem. I will absolutely need to leave the state if every storm from here on out makes me think of sex with Sebastian.

“I need you.”

For a second, I pull the phone away from my ear to take a nice deep breath. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You said you do some sort of animal rescue stuff? I hit a dog. The rain’s so heavy and it ran right in front of my car.”

“Is it still alive?”

“It’s alive. It’s whimpering. I don’t think it can move.”

“Big dog?”

“Looks like maybe he’s supposed to be, but he’s all skin and bones.”

A pang hits my chest. “You think you can pick him up then? Do you have a blanket or a towel in your car?”

“Yeah, I always keep a towel in my gym bag.”

Right. Flashbacks from another storm. He’s wet in his car. He hands me a towel to dry off.

This is not the time to get distracted.

“Scoop him up carefully. Wrap the towel around him. Where are you?”

“On Seacrest. A few blocks from my condo.”

“Hey, Debbie,” I call out into the hallway. “Do we have room to take in a stray hit by a car?”

Debbie, our constantly harassed kennel manager, sticks her head in. “You know we’re less than seventy-two hours from a hurricane, right? We had to move all the dogs from the perimeter kennels to the ones at the center of the building. We can’t do any more intake right now.”

Fuck.

“I’ll text you the address of a nearby emergency vet,” I tell Sebastian. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “I can meet you there.”

Double Fuck.

“I’m getting him in the car now. Thank you, Simon.”

Luckily, he hangs up without giving me the chance to answer, because I’m unsure what I would have said. Those three simple words, Thank you, Simon, are making me dizzy.