by Leslie North
“Whoa. Now wouldn’t that be ironic? Mr. All I Want Is A Good Fuck,” Grayson cracked.
“I guess times have changed,” Blake grumbled, swiveling in his office chair to look out the big window. Even two months ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead getting into a serious relationship. And here he was, complaining that Michelle wasn’t as serious as he wanted to be.
“Excuse me, guys, I need to go call the police station,” Daniel said. “I need to file a missing persons report, because this guy on the phone here is not Blake. I don’t know what you’ve done with him, but you need to bring him back.”
Blake cracked a grin. “Trust me guys—still the same old asshole you’ve come to love.” A sigh rocketed out of him as he tossed the pen he’d been compulsively clicking. “I don’t know. I want something with her. I want all of it, I guess. But I’m terrified she doesn’t want it too, and then this whole thing will have been a bust.”
“Welcome to the joys of getting involved with someone,” Grayson said sagely. “There is no guarantee ever. Not even a little bit. The only thing you can be sure of is that it’s gonna hurt like hell at some point…and that at the end, it will have been worth it.”
Oddly, his friend’s words were comforting. Getting it off his chest had helped more than he’d expected, and the three of them chatted for a little while longer until Blake’s stomach started to rumble and he was ready for lunch.
He spent the rest of the day being as productive as possible, until he couldn’t prevent himself any longer from heading down to the gym to seek out Michelle. He whistled as he headed down there, his shoes scuffing on the rough cement path leading up to the gym.
It was a beautiful, brilliant day, with bright blue skies and that unmistakable scent of early spring in the air. The smell that spoke of rebirth, overturned earth, encroaching heat. All the beautiful, simple things that reminded him somehow of Michelle.
Just as Blake approached the gym, the door opened, and Michelle stepped out.
Dressed in a chic black suit with peep-toe heels.
He stopped in his tracks, looking her up and down. “Wow. Hey there, beautiful.”
He’d never used that word with a woman and meant it so much. But with Michelle, it was so true that he felt other words churning inside him. Words that made no sense, after so little time. Michelle, I think I’m in love with you.
Maybe that would explain all the craziness of his thoughts recently. Why she was the only thing that seemed to matter in his world sometimes.
Pink stained her cheeks and she hoisted her purse on her shoulder. But nervousness radiated off of her. “Hey, Blake. What are you doing down here?”
“Just came to see you, actually.” He stepped closer, getting the sense that he’d caught her off guard—and that she might be hiding something. “Where are you headed?”
She rolled her lips in, confirming his suspicions. She didn’t answer right way, opening her mouth though nothing came out.
“Michelle…” he prompted.
“I actually wanted to tell you about this at a different time,” she said, her words rushed together as she glanced around them, as though checking for eavesdroppers. “But I’m on my way to a job interview.”
The news crashed through him. He nodded, unsure what this meant. Of course, there was plenty he didn’t know about her career goals and plans. But still, it felt a lot like another rejection. She didn’t want to work here anymore.
“Are you unhappy here?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity anymore.
“No, no, no,” she insisted, waving her hands as if dismissing the idea. “It’s not that. I just think it’s…well…it’s good to know what my options are. You know?”
He didn’t know. None of this made sense anymore, and fuck, he wished he had his best friends here to help him figure this shit out again. This, right here—this was why he didn’t do relationships. He was apparently so shitty at it that he could drive away top employees.
Grayson had just promised Blake that it would hurt like hell. Maybe this was the moment, arriving early.
“Well, I can provide a reference, or whatever you might need.” Blake had to force the words out. He wanted to be helpful, no matter what she chose. And dammit, he didn’t want to let on that he was hurt. Part of it was pride, admittedly—but also, if she wanted to leave, he didn’t want to be a jerk about it.
“Yes, that would be great. I’d really appreciate that, actually.”
“Awesome. Well…good luck,” he said, unsure if he should hug her, or just wave, or maybe go home and never contact her again. The rules of dating were so weird, and he’d never once bothered to even try to understand them. Until now.
“Thanks, Blake. I’ll text you later.” She reached out to squeeze his hand before she hurried off, leaving him in a cloud of his own confusion.
On the one hand, there were a million reasons she might be looking for a new job. It might even be to avoid any further complications with their relationship. But could that be true if she didn’t even want him to meet her family or wake up in the same house as her daughter?
To Blake, all signs seemed to point to a rapid demise of their romance, pending immediately.
He just had to figure out if he wanted to wait for her to be the one to walk away first.
16
Michelle felt like she was moments away from collapsing.
The anxiety didn’t make sense. Except maybe it made too much sense. She hadn’t seen Blake since running into him en route to her final job interview on Monday, which meant that not only was she dying to see him—to touch him, to get lost in that sexy grin—she also had news for him. She’d gotten the job. They could be open about their relationship without any hint of scandal or impropriety.
If that was what he wanted.
She was certain that it was what she wanted, but she was less and less confident in Blake’s feelings. It hadn’t helped that she’d seen so little of him for the past two weeks as the final preparations for the nightclub sucked up all his time.
But now his club was opening today.
Well, not exactly. It was a soft opening. This had been the date of the long-awaited grand opening…except Blake hadn’t been able to throw enough money at the problem to make it go his way. No matter how much the idea of throwing money at a problem reminded her of her ex, she still worked to separate Blake from the idea that he could be anything like her ex.
Blake is not manipulative. Blake is not a liar.
She drew a deep breath as she applied a bright shade of red lipstick—the type of color that seemed perfect for celebrating the soft opening of a nightclub.
Because you love Blake.
Michelle examined her appearance critically, wondering what Blake’s response would be. She wanted to wow him, not least because she knew he’d been a little hurt when she’d dodged his invitation for them to get dinner and then arrive at the soft opening together. Michelle had been needed elsewhere that afternoon—at the orientation session for her new job—and she hadn’t known how long it would take. She’d said she’d meet him there, giving him an ETA on the late side, just in case. But things had wrapped up a bit earlier than she’d expected and now, fully dressed and with Mollie’s babysitter already there, watching cartoons with Mollie in the living room, she could head out right away, surprise Blake by arriving early.
She wanted to show that she was there for him, that she supported his dreams and plans. While nightclubs were far from her usual scene, she was willing to step out of her comfort zone for him. She was willing to do quite a lot for him. She just hoped it would be enough, that they could get their relationship back into gear tonight, and move past the awkwardness she’d been feeling since his birthday party.
She headed down to the living room, twirling around to show off her outfit to her appreciative audience.
“So pretty, Mommy! You’re like a princess. Are you and Mr. Blake gonna go dance in a big room like in Beauty and the Beast?” Mollie
asked, hopping up and down.
“Maybe not quite like that,” Michelle said with a laugh. “But yes, there will be dancing.” After kissing Mollie and telling her to be good for Jenna, Michelle gathered her purse and her wrap and headed out the door.
Michelle’s belly was a tight knot as she got into the car. She checked herself in the rearview mirror no less than a hundred times at stop signs and stoplights, trying to find the reassurance and confidence she’d apparently misplaced at some point.
It felt like so much was hinging on tonight. She wanted to believe that the withdrawal she’d felt from Blake had just been because he’d been busy with the club, as he’d said. Now that that obstacle was no longer in the way…what did that mean for them? Would their relationship pick back up, stronger than ever? Or…
No. She wasn’t going to let herself wander down the rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios. This was going to be a good night, a celebratory night. The first night of the next stage of her relationship with Blake. Everything was going to be fine.
Seeing the big, modern-styled warehouse prompted a warm wave of emotion as she recalled the night that Blake had brought her here for their special solo dinner on the dance floor. She wanted to get back to those types of moments, those types of special nights, just the two of them. She couldn’t wait for her and Blake to get back to focusing on each other.
She tugged open the door. A cool waft of air billowed out, the low thump of electronic music greeting her. Straightening her spine, Michelle stepped inside.
Her gaze swept through the expansive nightclub. People had gathered in clusters, sipping at martini glasses, pointing at the artwork. Pride vibrated through her. This, right here—this was proof that all of Blake’s distance and distraction had been because of something. He was working toward his dreams. Expanding his empire.
And that was the type of endeavor that Michelle wanted to support.
She spotted the back of Grayson’s head near the front vestibule that would serve as the coat check. Michelle headed that way, certain that even if Blake wasn’t with him, Grayson would know where Blake could be found. Sure enough, as she stepped closer, she saw that the three friends were standing together.
“I don’t know,” Grayson was saying to Daniel and Blake as she approached. None of them had a clear view of Michelle approaching, which made her mission of surprising Blake even easier.
“You did win the bet after all,” Daniel added.
Michelle bit at her bottom lip, curious to overhear what they might be talking about. Blake had told her that he and his friends were intensely competitive and would bet on practically anything they could, from the absurd to the absolutely impossible. She decided not to speak just yet—to eavesdrop for a little longer. This felt like a secret portal into the world he and his friends inhabited.
“I know I did,” Blake conceded. “But I don’t—”
“You went on five dates with Michelle,” Daniel said. “That was the criteria. It would be unethical of me not to reward you with your prize.”
Blake said something, but Michelle couldn’t even focus on his words. Not when a roar of noise had started between her ears, drowning out everything that wasn’t the replay of what she’d overheard.
Five dates with Michelle.
Her brows drew together as she struggled to understand this information. They’d been talking about a bet. Five dates was the criteria. Five dates with her.
Which meant that Blake had only gone out with her because of a bet.
Michelle felt woozy for a moment, and stumbled, knocking into a chair beside a cocktail table, jarring it enough to make it rattle.
“Oh, Michelle! Hey there!” Grayson’s jovial voice broke through the fog. The scraping sound from the chair must have alerted him that she was there. Grayson stepped out of the vestibule, Daniel and Blake following behind him.
Blake had a strained look on his face, somewhere between shock and horror.
“Michelle. I thought you were coming later. What are you doing here?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t even remember what she wanted to say. What could she say? Everything had turned into a confusing riot of questions and disappointment.
She’d thought that Blake was different.
She’d thought that what they had between them was real.
But now, it was clear. She’d been a bet. Their whole relationship had been a bet. Was it any wonder why he wasn’t reaching out to spend more time with her anymore?
He’d achieved the necessary five dates with her.
And that look on his face had shown just how little he really wanted her to be there.
Michelle spun on her heels, heading straight for the exit, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally slam into anyone as she powered toward the door, her eyes blinded with tears.
“Michelle!” Blake’s gruff voice cut through the low tones of the music, and a moment later his hand was on her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“Michelle, where are you going?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, something wild and pained thumping inside her. Because after all this time being careful and being smart, she’d still been wrong about Blake. “Back to my house, where I don’t have to worry about anyone faking a relationship with me just to win a stupid bet.”
His jaw flexed and he held her arm in place when she tried to stomp away.
“That’s not how it went.”
“I don’t care. I need to go. I need to not be anywhere near you—ever again.”
“Michelle.” Blake’s voice had a raw, fierce edge to it. Something she’d never heard before. She yanked her eyes up to his, finding so much intensity in his gaze she had to look away. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s a lot to say, actually,” he said, and she ripped her arm away from him and kept walking.
“I can’t imagine any way that you could rationalize having bet on me,” Michelle said through gritted teeth as she finally reached the exit. As long as she could keep the tears at bay until she got into her car, she’d consider this emotional outburst a relative success. But with the way Blake kept pace with her, she doubted she’d be able to escape like she wanted.
She pushed through the double doors, focusing on her car parked in the lot off to the side. That was her goal. She was so close.
“Will you let me explain?” Blake asked, his voice scraping through the evening air.
“Unless you can explain how I misheard something that I very clearly heard, I don’t think there’s anything you can say that will make this situation better.” Michelle stomped up to the car, Blake staying right on her heels.
“Don’t be dense, Michelle,” Blake said in a low voice. “You can’t assume you know the whole story after overhearing one thing.”
“I don’t assume to know the whole story. I just assume to know enough. And what I’ve learned tells me you’re not the person I thought you were. And that’s enough for me.”
She tried to open the door, but Blake pressed his palm against the window. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“You’re being irrational.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Irrational? No, I’d say I’m being quite rational. Now everything makes sense. Why you were so interested to take me out so frequently from the moment you met me, but then after date five…well, basically nothing. I’m sure ‘focusing on opening your nightclub’ was a convenient excuse not to see me when you were never really into me in the first place.”
Something hard slid over Blake’s face, like a mask, and when he spoke, it came out a growl. “That is not fucking true. It started as a bet, but I didn’t know you then. None of us did. It was a dumb bet, but it didn’t take long before it was just an excuse to spend time with you. And then it stopped mattering at all, and all I cared about was us being together. That’s the fucking difference.”
She shook her head, emotion tightening her throat. Hearing him admit the fact that it had been a bet right from the start was somehow the worst of all. Truly, she’d been hoping—like a delusion perhaps—that she had misheard him or misunderstood.
“Glad that taking me out on the requisite five dates won you a prize,” she spat, tugging at the door handle again. This time, Blake let her open the door.
“Michelle. Please.” He sounded tired. Like all the life had drained out of him. “Hear me out. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Did you ever have me to begin with?” she asked, and then slammed the door shut on him. She tried not to look at him as she turned the engine, afraid that seeing the emotion in his eyes or the pain slashed across his face might make her reconsider.
She hurried to pull out of her parking spot, not allowing her breath to escape until she’d pulled onto the road. Once they were about a mile away, she allowed herself to pull over in the empty parking lot of a strip mall. Parking the car, Michelle squeezed the steering wheel until her knuckles went white, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She needed to let it all out before she got home. She couldn’t let Mollie see her like this. So she cried for herself. For Mollie. For all those stupid, hopeful dreams that she’d had no business dreaming in the first place. She should have known better—had her experiences with her ex taught her nothing?
You chose wrong again. You chose Blake. This is your fault, Michelle.
Her shoulders shook with loud, painful sobs she didn’t bother trying to hold back. Maybe if she let them all out now, she wouldn’t find herself crying again later, in her room tonight, where Mollie might be able to overhear. Her little girl was already going to be crushed when she learned that they wouldn’t be seeing Mr. Blake again. Michelle didn’t want to make it worse by letting Mollie see how hurt and angry her mommy was, as well.
She’d never been this hurt before. Not even by her ex. At least there she’d known all along that he was manipulative, that something was wrong about them.