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I knew this man. I probably knew him better than anyone on earth. He couldn’t lie to save his ass—which was how I’d known he’d lied to me six months ago and it had led to our breakup. He hurt me, but tell that to my stupid hormones. They ignored what he’d done and still wanted him. Explain it to my heart. It insisted he was still my man.
My brother dropped into the sand beside me. “The ATV’s here to take him to the ambulance so he can go to the hospital.”
“Okay,” I breathed, the sound a desperate rush of air. I didn’t want to leave Felix’s side, as dumb as that was. But I had to. I was working and keeping the beach safe. Rescuing people like I had him, if necessary. Doing myjob.
Felix grabbed my hand as I attempted to stand, and he pulled me back to my knees. “Starfish, I need you. Don’t leave me.”
His confusion had morphed fully into fear now, a combination of realizing he’d almost died, and if he were to be believed, not knowing how he got in the water.
“Logan’s on his way over,” Barron said. “David wants you to go with Felix since you were the closest to what happened.” And because I knew him best. David, my boss, was no different from any of the rest of the Ocean Rescue staff. He was Team Breelix, wanting us back together. No one knew why Felix and I broke up, just that neither of us were happy. So apparently, David was taking this opportunity to play matchmaker.
“You could go,” I told my brother. Half of me protested. The other half was terrified to spend any amount of time with my ex. I was weak to this man. Stupid and weak. It was why I’d avoided him for months now. And why I’d doubled down on applying to schools away from here for the remainder of my undergrad.
Felix’s hand tightened on mine. “No. You. I needyou.”
Chapter Two
~ Breezy ~
I stood beside Felix where he lay on the bed in the Sizzle Beach ER. He’d about freaked out when I hadn’t taken the ambulance with him, and only calmed when I’d promised to meet him here. He hadn’t let go of my hand since I’d gotten to the cubicle where he waited for the doctor.
Back on the beach, Carla had brought me my duffle bag while Felix had been loaded up on the rescue ATV. Thankfully, I’d been able to pull on my athletic pants and T-shirt over my suit, and my keys were in the bag, so I hadn’t needed to waste time running to the Ocean Rescue office to get anything.
But by the time I’d gotten to Felix, he’d been throwing up a ruckus and threatening to leave to go find me. The attendant at the triage had hustled me back there STAT to get him under control.
He’d been on is feet, trying to pull out the IV they’d given him when I walked in.
“Cut it the fuck out,” I gritted out. I wasn’t generally the dominant one in our relationship, but apparently, someone had to be right now. Felix was completely off-kilter. I’d never seen him like this.
He froze, sagging, then allowed the nurse and orderly to get him back on the bed.
“We need to get blood,” the grandmotherly nurse with iron-gray curly hair said. Her stare narrowed at Felix. “Do you need to be restrained?”
His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
She patted his hand. “That’s better. The phlebotomist will be right in.”
“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said to me.
“I said I was.” With our fingers still laced, I turned his arm and looked down at the snowflake tattoo on his inner arm. My eyes furrowed at the sight of the brown color. It was supposed to be blue. “Felix, when was the last time you check your levels?”
The tattoo had been made with biosensor liquid that shifted color to indicate his blood level changes. It all sounded futuristic and sci-fi, but we’d both been thrilled when, as a type one diabetic, he’d gotten the opportunity to get the tattoo during our senior year of high school as part of a developmental study.
He shrugged.
“Felix!”
Before I could lay into him, the phlebotomist came in for his blood draw. I stared at Felix, silently kicking his ass with my glare. I knew as much about his diabetes as anyone. I’d been there at his side when he’d been weak and exhausted for no apparent reason. He’d been dizzy, had blurred vision and lost a massive amount of weight. We’d all been terrified he’d had cancer.
We’d been freshmen in high school, and even so had already been dating since seventh grade—as much as two kids could date at that age.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” I hissed as soon as the tech left us.
For the first time, his normal intensity returned as he stared at me. “What was the point? You left me. You wouldn’t talk to me. You are my life, my reason for everything I’ve done, and you were gone.”
“That’s bull. You have family who love you. A career. AnnMarie.”
“Hello,” the doctor trilled coming into the cubicle and interrupting us. I got the feeling he knew exactly what he’d walked in on—maybe not the content, but he definitely knew we’d been arguing.
