“How long was I out?”

Beverly sniffled again, swiping at her eyes like she could erase the evidence of her tears. “I-I don’t know. A few minutes. We caught you before you cracked your skull open.” She made a broken sound and brushed her fingers over my buzzed scalp, like she was looking for an injury. “I thought you died.”

“B.” I turned my head, my cheek brushing against her temple.  “I’m right here.”

She was trembling, her breath coming in sharp gasps, her entire body tight with barely contained emotion.

I recognized it immediately—that helpless, panicked, spiraling feeling—because I’d felt it before. Not long ago, when she came home after that party at Mason’s.

I swallowed, my own hands twitching at my sides before—hesitantly—I let them settle against her back. “I didn’t die, B.”

“You hit the ground, Blake! You… Your eyes rolled back. You just collapsed—” She wiped at her face aggressively, kneeling beside me, her hands everywhere—pressing against my chest, my arms, my face, like she had to make sure I was still here.

I reached up, my fingers closing around her wrist. Her pulse was racing. “Hey,” I murmured, rubbing my thumb over her skin. “I’m okay, B. I promise.” With a low groan, I pressed my hand against my forehead, still feeling lightheaded but more aware now. “It was just a stress blackout.”

“I was kind of hoping she’d slap you awake, but she just—” Riley gestured vaguely at Beverly, “started sobbing instead.”

All I could think was: I did that; I made her cry.

Greg stood with a sigh, brushing off his pants like watching an employee pass out was just part of his job description. “Alright, let’s get you up. Riley, get back to work.”

Before I could react, he was grabbing my arm.

Unfortunately, Beverly had the same idea.

So, instead of gracefully sitting up like a normal person, I was yanked in two different directions at once.

I smashed straight into Beverly. Forehead to forehead.

“Ow,” she yelped, clutching her head.

Greg made a face. “Yeah, that’s gonna bruise.”

I groaned, rubbing my temple. “Jesus Christ.”

Beverly shoved me. “You have a big, hard head, smartass!”

“Maybe move out of the way next time?”

“Maybe don’t pass out at work,” she snapped, still sniffling.

Which did things to me.

I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “I’m fine.”

“Fine people don’t just drop to the floor like a sack of bricks.”

Greg clapped my back. Too hard. “Alright, champ, let’s⁠—”

“Greg, please stop talking.”

Riley chimed in, “Yeah, boss, let him have his moment with his very concerned not-sister.”

“Not-sister?” Greg asked, confused.

“Oh, boy,” Riley whisper-shouted. “Do I have news for you.”

“Greg,” I gritted out. “Give me five minutes. Then I’ll get back to work.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re not working tonight.”

“What?”