by Alex Rosa
I try to stop him. “Blake, you can’t.”
“Just let go, Skye.” It’s a breathy demand my stupid body obeys as another orgasm rips through me. My hips arch against the friction, giving in.
I quiet my groan, his lips trying their best to muffle the sound as my body tightens and releases. His mouth and body tell me this was all worth the five-second risk of sound with my brother inside his room below.
Drifting back down to earth, my eyes flit open to Blake’s chin resting on my chest, eyes closed, as if listening to my body calm.
I quip in the evening silence, “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Yeah, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”
I run a hand through his hair, finding it hard to believe I’m still naked with him half-dressed on top of me.
“It was also dangerous.”
His eyes fly open, ready as ever with his trademark wry smirk and dimple. “That’s what makes it fun.”
He climbs off me, resuming his previous goal of leaving as he picks up his shirt from the floor, and pulls it back over his sticky body.
He flashes a shit-eating grin before saying, “Catch you on the flip side, Skye,” and then winks.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I watch him leave.
Just breathe.
Chapter 23
I stretch at the foot of my bed, reaching down for my toes. My joints feel tight as I move and it reminds me of how ridiculous that man . . . err, boy is.
I can smell the divine wafting aroma of coffee. It’s near nine. I can only assume it’s not my adoring brother making a pot of coffee, but instead the raging sex maniac who lives downstairs.
I peer into my vanity mirror, noticing my face is naturally flushed most of the time now, but I like the odd sense of happiness it gives me. It’s a new look I can’t wrap my head around.
I force casual steps rather than flying down the stairs. A girl needs to show some restraint, right?
When my feet make it to the hardwood floor, I take two mental notes. I forgot myself before and see that the entire living room is back to its normal, livable state. I wonder who did the cleanup, and how I didn’t notice it last night. Granted, I felt that I had other distractions as I walked through the front door.
I restrain myself from a face-palm as my eyes make contact with the familiar image of Blake’s toned back in the kitchen, but lucky for me he’s clothed. Actually, he looks freshly showered and ready for the day in a crisp maroon dress shirt, complemented with a buttoned vest and a tight pair of dark jeans that hang off his hips in that hypnotizing way.
I break the silence, following the coffee smell. “Good morning.”
Blake turns around, that half smirk ready as ever. “It is a good morning, now isn’t it?”
I don’t know what it means, but my face still heats at his tone.
“Is it? I have a chem test at eleven. I don’t see much of a bright side.”
He swivels his body around to reveal him holding a full mug of coffee, and he extends it to me.
“Coffee?” he hums.
I peer over the full mug’s edge to see its caramel color.
“Milk and sugar. The way you like it.” He places the mug in front of me on the kitchen island, and I see a slight rose tinge appear on the sharp edge of his cheekbones. As quickly as it appears, it disappears.
“How would you know how I take my coffee?” I ask.
“You’d be surprised how much I actually pay attention.” He takes a sip from his mug as he leans against the counter, watching me.
I wish I didn’t feel like some hormonal teen. I straighten my back, trying to get a grip.
“How do you take yours?”
“Black.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Not with soy milk like your mochas?”
He lets out a laugh. “Only soy when I’m trying to watch my figure.” The devil has the audacity to wink as he struts toward me, leaning over the counter.
I shake the thought and continue, “Where are you off to so early?”
He leans in close. A wide grin spreads across his face, and with that smile, the anticipation to know grows. The fact that he almost looks eager to tell me is all the more enjoyable.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Well, guess who—?” A knock coming from the front door interrupts, silencing him. He lets out a little sigh. “Gimme a sec.”
My immediate reaction is to pout as I lean in closer. “No, tell me first!”
His eyes glow as they make contact with mine; he’s close enough that I can smell the coffee on his lips. “It’s too good to half-ass the moment. I’ll tell you my good news after I get the door.” Shocking me, he closes the distance between us, placing a quick, but still divinely sweet kiss on my lips before turning to answer the door.
I have to take a deep breath to gain my balance. I feel like such a puddle of hormones in his presence, but a part of me wants to scold him (and tease him) about the evening before.
I take another sip of coffee, but I’m distracted by Blake’s words when he opens the door.
“Dick, I didn’t realize you were invited over.”
“Is Skyler home? I really don’t have the time or patience to deal with someone like you.”
“Are those for me? You shouldn’t have,” Blake quips.
“Hey, asshole, do me a favor and go get Skyler for me.”
I place my mug back on the counter and pad toward the door in tense horror. Blake looks over at me before turning back to the open door and saying, “She might be indisposed.”
Are you kidding me right now?
Blake’s words drip with innuendo that I know Rich will take to heart. I step to the door, grabbing it out of Blake’s grasp, and whip it farther open.
“I’m here, Ri— Whoa, what!”
Anger forgotten, I shove past Blake to stand between both men. I can feel Blake’s eyes on me, hot and heavy, but the sight before me makes it harder to manage the grin that slices through my mood.
Rich’s eyes, searing with annoyance only seconds ago, spark anew at the sight of me, and glow with his matching grin. What has me grinning, though, is the large bouquet of flowers Rich is holding in front of him. They’re beautiful. Their color is striking, their smell magnificent.
I can’t contain the glee warming me from the inside out. “Rich, I can’t believe you right now!”
I hear a quiet huff from behind me.
Rich runs his free hand through his blond hair. He clears his throat nervously, pursing his lips.
“I did. I’m guessing you’re not mad, then?”
My words come out more like a squeal. “Mad! Unfortunately, it’s hard for me to be mad at you right now,” I joke. “But the flowers are beautiful. But why? I don’t understand.”
Rich opens his mouth, but shuts it as he eyes the figure looming behind me.
I assumed Blake would have already gone back to the kitchen, but I swivel around to encounter Blake’s no-nonsense stare. His arms are folded across his broad chest, and his feet are planted as he watches me.
I lower my voice, lean into Blake, and say through clenched teeth, “Are you going to go inside now?”
He at least he has the decency to speak lower, too, but both of us know it’s not as if Rich still can’t hear us.
“No.” His tone is clipped and sarcastic.
I can’t help my wide-eyed response. “No?”
Rich waits patiently, and I’m too afraid to see what his expression might be.
Now I’m ticked off. “Blake. Go inside.”
Blake wets his lips in annoyance, but he knows he doesn’t have any choice but to follow my demand.
“You heard the lady,” Rich chimes in.
“Go fuck yourself,” Blake says before meandering inside.
I turn to Rich, step outside, and close the front door.
“Rich, you didn’t need to say that. I can handle him.”
“Are you sure he isn’t handling you?”
My fa
ce pales, and I struggle to regain my balance.
He lets out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry, Skye. That’s not why I’m here. Forget him.”
I heave in a deep breath and look at the bouquet of flowers. He extends the arrangement toward me.
“These are, of course, for you.” He squints as he hands them to me. “These were to say I’m sorry for last night, but maybe they should also be I’m sorry for right now.”
Knowing that Rich and Blake’s beef with one another is not my problem, and that jealousy is just going to have to be something I need to find a way to manage, I decide to let go of the most recent encounter.
“Sorry for last night?” I ask. “I thought we were fine. I’m the one who bailed out on you.”
I bring the dazzling purple and pink flowers up to my face, and inhale their calming scent.
“We’re fine. I just feel like I keep pushing you in a direction you aren’t ready for, and I know we kind of go in circles with this. I just wanted to say sorry. I’m not perfect, and we aren’t perfect. I just want us to go back to ground zero. I guess I must admit it’s more on my end than anything, but I’m not going to prod you to fall in love with me anymore.” He pauses as my eyes peek up. “But just because I’m stopping doesn’t mean I don’t want you. It just means I want you in the right way.”
My need to flee last night may have had something to do with Blake, but it also stemmed from Rich’s persistence to take me out on a real date. I kindly refused, explaining he’s too good of a friend. Things got awkward quick, and I saw it as my opportunity to leave. Guilt bubbles in my gut as my face blushes, and I hide behind the flowers.
“Rich, you didn’t have to do this, or say these things.”
He straightens out his plain white T-shirt. “I know, but I wanted to.”
I’m speechless.
He chuckles. “Well, I better head off now. I wanted to deliver these flowers to you to see my favorite smile.”
I stiffen, surprised. “Going already?” I know it’s an awful thing to offer, but nothing else comes to mind. “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“Thanks, but I can’t. I’m teaching Mrs. Langdale’s microbiology class today. She’s out sick.”
I chew my lip, feeling bereft all of a sudden. “Okay. Thank you for the beautiful flowers. It means a lot. The flowers and what you said.”
He leans in, placing a kiss on my forehead, and pulls away. “Any time, Skye. You know that.”
I nod, and with a flash of his smug, slightly entitled I’m-way-too-good-for-LA grin, he turns around and heads back to his car. I don’t go back inside until I watch him drive away, and it isn’t until then that I take what feels like my first breath.
I walk inside, holding the flowers close, basking in my wonderfully bizarre morning. For a second, I wonder how I’m supposed to handle the boy waiting for me. I stroll into the kitchen, and I know the impending conversation will be a doozy, just based on the aura that Blake gives off. If I could describe it, it would be pulsing green to match his eyes. He leans against the counter, his expression sour after his encounter with Rich, though I know he would never admit it. His eyes glitter like a cut power line, sparking and igniting erratically, giving him away.
“You know he just wants to get into your pants, right?”
My face twists into a pout and I decide I’ll scold him later, because right now, I don’t have the patience. However, it doesn’t change the fact I’m fuming. I remind myself of Rich’s sincerity by leaning into the flowers in my hands, finding a sense of calm in the tulips, realizing this will be the petty portion of the game that Blake seems to think he is such a professional at.
“Is that so?” I ask.
Blake smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. I know he’s enjoying some private joke at my expense. I try to gather my wits, but I struggle. Sometimes the best way to take a hit is to take it head on.
“Rich doesn’t need flowers to get into my pants.” I know my tone is antagonistic, and with Blake, I never know if it’s ever in my best interest to rile him up, especially with this subject matter.
I see a flicker of amusement, and surprising me, he takes a deliberate step forward. I hide behind the bouquet, made nervous by the stalking predator before me. I don’t know what to do, or what he’s really thinking, let alone what any of this is about. How is he supposed to feel? He shouldn’t care anyway. Maybe he doesn’t care at all.
“Then why not just do it? You like him, and he likes you,” he asks with a touch of disdain in his voice.
I feel my face flush. “He deserves me at my best, and I’m so far from being where I should be. We’re better as friends for now.”
Blake hesitates, his brows knitting uncomfortably. “Why do you think so little of yourself?”
I’m dumbstruck, and bury my face farther into the tulips and daffodils, hiding like a rabbit would in fear of being prey. Am I afraid of his sexual prowess, or his annoying ability to make me accountable for my lack of self-confidence?
“I don’t know. I like to keep things in perspective,” I reply.
Blake shakes his head as he takes another stalking step toward me.
“You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for, Skye. I think it’s about time you start believing that. Maybe then you’ll realize that all these guys who want you, want you as you are. I may hate the guy, but I see what he sees.”
I gulp, confused and unsure how the topic turned serious. I desperately try to gather my thoughts into a response, but I’ve got nothing.
“But just so you know, he’s not right for you.”
I tense, but can’t help my raised eyebrow. His words are predictable, but I don’t know what to say. How the hell would he know that Rich isn’t for me? He can’t possibly know who or what is good for me. He plays with fire. He knows nothing of consequences.
My inner workings seem to be more confident than my demeanor because I’m still a quivering mess behind the flowers, and I notice he finds some sense of enjoyment in my silence. I should ask what he means, but I fear the answer, just like I fear most reasons that accompany the truth. What kind of reality am I living in?
Blake closes the distance between us and leans in near my ear. “Besides, I bet he wouldn’t make you moan his name the way you moan mine.”
My breath hitches in my throat, rendering me speechless and petrified to the spot. No matter how hard I try, I am continuously in Blake’s sexual thrall, even if it’s over breakfast.
He presses his lips to my cheek before he moves past me and walks to the front door. He doesn’t bother with a good-bye as the door shuts, leaving me in confused silence.
Chapter 24
I step out into the quad and peer up at the gray sky, internally cursing it. The dark cloud coverage rumbles in the distance, and small droplets of water sprinkle the ground. I’m wearing only a T-shirt and shorts. It was sunny just hours ago and I never anticipated this sort of shift.
I sprint across the lawn, rushing to my car, huffing as I go. The weather is not helping my mood. I’ve been put off by the day ever since Blake’s departure, and spent more time than I should have in class debating about texting him to ask what his problem was rather than focusing on my exam. I not only thought of Blake and his odd display of what I’m assuming is jealousy, but the encounter with Rich and how I’m supposed to process any of it. When will he learn that we’re just better platonic?
I heave in a deep breath as I put my car in gear to drive home. I need to relax regardless of my boy troubles, because I have my overprotective brother to deal with. When he asks, “How are you?” I’m sure I can’t reply, “Absolutely fantastic considering how much sex I’m having. With whom, you ask? Oh, just your best friend who you told me not to sleep with!”
What a mess I have gotten myself into.
I pull into my driveway as the day settles into evening and note that the sun is setting earlier than usual, a signal of the oncoming fall. I scold the raindrops that con
tinue hitting my windshield. As if Mother Nature is shouting back, a loud rumble of thunder erupts from the clouds.
My brother is already home, but Blake still has not returned from his day out, and again I wonder where he might be. I shuffle out of the car, not in the mood to understand how I feel about Blake. I try my most convincing shrug of carelessness as I walk through my front door.
“Sprout! I was wondering when you’d get here. I bought us some movies.”
His tone is undeniably playful, and the scowl that has been on my face most of the day fades away. However, my eyebrows still knit into confusion as I toss my backpack onto the floor near the door and slip off my wet shoes.
“Is there a reason you went out to buy new movies? I mean, we have such a huge collection already.”
He stands from the couch, holding two packaged DVDs, grinning.
“How is it you always see through my bullshit? My clients don’t.”
I run a hand through my tangled damp hair. “Because your clientele are probably not as smart as your darling sister. Or they aren’t as experienced in dealing with you. I mean, I’m sure no one has witnessed your horrible bargaining, let alone cheating skills at Monopoly.”
My brother erupts in laughter. “True. Okay, I’ve been discovered. I was thinking that if I provided the entertainment, you would cook the food.”
I collapse on the red couch. “Of course you want me to cook. In a way, I’d rather you not cook.”
He smiles. “I even bought the food. Spaghetti work for you?”
I nod as he shakes the two items in his hands.
“Now, do you want an intense action flick with visuals that will blow your mind, or a horror flick that will have you losing sleep for weeks?”
“With options like that, it’s hard to choose,” I mock, finding it hard not to laugh.
“Oh, c’mon, Skye. I’ve been seeing the mush you’ve been watching. That sappy Jane Austen movie was in the DVD player. Buck up, loser.”
The mention makes the memory of Blake and me on the couch flash before my eyes, and I remember his use of distracting me from my emotions with his lips. Hmm. I want to grin like an idiot. Instead, my chest tenses in rebellion, and I focus on executing sarcastic nonchalance.
