by Alex Rosa
“Skyler?”
I recognize the voice instantly.
Blake’s fingers come to a halt but linger against my skin, and I know that this is an incriminating scene. I sit up straighter and peel Blake’s hand from my stomach as I make contact with stormy gray eyes.
“Rich!”
His cleats dangle from one hand, and he’s wearing his old jersey and shorts. He’s always been an impressive-looking man, and he pushes out his chest in a way to express dominance in Blake’s presence. I note that my life feels like a show on Animal Planet.
“I didn’t see you in anatomy class today.”
Guilt washes over me, and I don’t have a valid explanation. How could I forget that he would notice as a TA?
Blake’s expression has transitioned to his default Alpha Asshole, and I watch as he opens his mouth as if to answer for me.
In a panic, I slap my hand over his mouth, stopping his words.
Under my palm, I can feel him smile.
I turn to Rich. “I overslept this morning and decided to take a mental health day. Blake just joined me for a jog.”
I can see Rich’s jaw clench, but he doesn’t press. “I’ve been trying to call you to apologize for Saturday night.”
I cannot help my reflexive sigh. “It’s fine, Rich. I know how it is.”
“You haven’t been taking my calls.”
I’m aware that in the past day I have been paying less attention to my phone than I should, especially with Mr. Distraction next to me, and the unfortunate appearance of my ex.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit scatterbrained.”
Rich looks at Blake, probably wondering why my hand is still covering his mouth, but I don’t budge. With his silence, I feel the need to throw him a bone.
“Are we still meeting tomorrow at your place? I was hoping you’d review my submission essay before I mailed it,” I ask.
An obvious sense of relief washes over him, and he nods.
“Of course. I’m on my way to a pickup game on the field right now, so I should be going. I will see you tomorrow, then?”
“Yes.”
It seems to be a satisfying confirmation for him, because he flashes me a grin and then turns to Blake. “Nice seeing you again, Blake.”
I feel Blake’s smile transition to a frown beneath my hand as we watch Rich walk away. Apparently, Rich’s tone is not lost on him.
Blake nibbles at my palm when Rich is out of earshot, causing me to giggle in surprise. I yank my hand away.
“Was that necessary?” he asks.
“Just like you think you know me, I might know you better than you think. And yes, it was absolutely necessary.”
He sits up straight and gets dangerously close to my face. “What do you see in that guy?”
I have no desire to keep my distance. “Now who’s jealous?”
“I don’t get jealous.” His eyes dart to my lips.
I smirk. “Then why bother asking?”
His lips twist wickedly, and I know it would only take a few more inches for him to show me why. I wish I could be the daring one and kiss him first, but I simply freeze, unsure of what to do.
“Just breathe, Skye.” His thumb strokes my cheek.
My eyes flash to Rich, who is officially out of sight, and I realize, for more reasons than one, that Blake is not good for me, though he may taste delicious. It’s obvious there’s an attraction, and I feel him getting closer. I worry that he only wants to kiss me because he wants to win some unknown game with Rich, rather than wanting me.
The thought hurts.
“Why are you doing this?”
Any movements he might have been making are interrupted as he turns his stare back to mine, and I realize I’m no longer smiling but wallowing in my inadequacies.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know why you bother. Am I just a game to you? A silly prize? A game to see what it all might do to me?” I scoff. “Rich appears, and now you want to kiss me? I am in emotional turmoil last night, then you kiss me? My brother says don’t touch, and you do it anyway?”
My frustration is rising, and it feels good to let it all out.
His brow knits together, but he doesn’t put any distance between our faces.
“Is that what you think?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrow, and the heat that sparks behind their depths only makes him look hotter. I feel like such a fool, though I’m proud of my admission. He looks angry.
“The truth is, I always want to kiss you.”
With no further explanation, let alone another stolen kiss, he rises, breaking any spell his stare was casting. When he stands and I look up at him, his stern demeanor tells me that his normal pep has vanished.
I rise, too. I want to say something, because I feel I need to, but he beats me to it.
“Are you going to scold me again?”
Baffled, I ask, “Scold you?”
“Hiii, Blake!”
A blonde appears, crossing the lawn and waving to him.
I clench my eyes shut at hearing the girl’s voice. I can sense Blake taking a step toward me, feeling heat radiating off his body, giving him away.
“What’s there to say that I haven’t already?” I say, my eyes still closed. This whole thing is ridiculous.
When my eyes fly open, he looks as frustrated as I feel.
With annoying arrogance, he says, “You want me. I want you. But we aren’t looking for anything serious. You’re jealous, I’m jealous.”
I huff and push past him. “What makes you think I want you, Blake? I haven’t initiated anything. It might be you with the problem.”
I guess I know that isn’t true, but I need to take some sort of stand, don’t I?
“Sometimes people need a bit of a push. I know the prude in you aches to be bad.”
I whip my head around, shocked. “And you think you can solve that for me?”
He chuckles and I find it offensive.
“Now you’re laughing at me! I’ll see you at home, Blake.” With that, I jog as fast as I can back to the house. I’m flustered by the conversation and overwhelmed by embarrassment.
“Skyler! Wait!”
I don’t turn around. I don’t even slow down. If anything, I quicken my pace.
Chapter 14
I look at myself in my mirror and rub a towel over my damp hair. I slip on a pair of skinny jeans and a black tank top. My skin still hasn’t managed to cool down. I have been fuming ever since running off on Blake, fighting this internal battle of aching for him to touch me, but then for him to leave me alone.
I shake my head, realizing that the adult response would be to let it go and not let it get out of hand. It has already gone far enough.
I blow dry my hair and apply only a touch of makeup. The puffiness has gone, and the constant flush to my skin that Blake elicits seems to suit me.
I roll my eyes at the thought before heading downstairs.
When I make it to the bottom step, I notice he isn’t cooking at all, but furiously cleaning dishes. It’s obvious he’s frustrated.
“Blake?”
He drops the pan, facing me. Freshly showered, he looks more edible than ever.
“Yes?”
I lean against the counter, chewing my lip, and deliberate my next move before deciding to follow through with my plan.
“I wanted to apologize for running off on you.”
He leans against the sink, his smile effortless.
I look away. This is a bad idea already.
“I was thinking, and I want to apologize, too.”
I bring my gaze back up. “You do?”
“Not for what you think.”
I purse my lips. “Do I want to hear this apology, then?”
He ignores my question. “I want to apologize for wanting you.”
I shake my head, dumbfounded. “Ya know, Blake, like I said before, sometimes I think I get you, but then again, you do things like this. However, y
ou’re right. I don’t want to hear it. I’m not some prize to be won.”
“No, you’re not. Hear me out. I just want you to admit that you want me, too, and I can let it go. We can let bygones be bygones.”
I walk around the counter, and open the fridge to find a box of leftovers my brother had mentioned he left me. I’m relieved that I don’t have to look at him. “Unfortunately, Blake, that is not how apologies work.”
Hearing his laugh makes me smile, but lucky for me, he can’t see my face.
“This conversation isn’t over, you know.”
I grab for a white cardboard box, decide I won’t dare get near Blake, and skip the microwave, thinking cold pizza will be fine.
“This conversation is most definitely over.”
“I’ll get you to admit it sooner than you think.”
His tone sends a shiver down my spine, and before I make it to the living room, I swivel around to lock eyes with his mocking stare.
“Blake! Stop treating me like a challenge!”
“Then quit acting like one!”
I clench my jaw and hold back a smile.
I need to change the subject. “Are we still watching a movie?”
“Of course.”
His tone makes me want to stomp my feet, but I turn around and head to the couch to begin last night’s movie from the start. I’m in no mood to fiddle with movie titles.
I sit on the couch, nibble my cold leftover pizza and think it tastes funny, but my rumbling stomach doesn’t care.
Blake is quick to join, and I make it a point not to look at him as he sits too close.
An exaggerated sigh escapes my lips as time moves on. There’s tension, and I don’t want to admit why. I feel Blake’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look at him. I get the sinking feeling he’s still laughing at me. I don’t want to be a joke to him.
Barely five minutes go by before he asks, “What are you thinking?”
I finish chewing my last bite, and turn to look at him. “I think you’re laughing at me.”
His eyebrows furrow, but his smile remains. He is no longer staring at my face, but at my mouth.
“Can I ask you something?”
I pull out another slice of pizza, readying myself for another bite.
“If this is anything like your apology, I think it’s best you don’t.”
He chuckles. “Does pre-med Dick know about your ex?”
My body tenses. “Jason?”
Hearing his name makes my stomach flip, and I realize Blake’s smile has vanished.
“That’s his name?”
“Yesssss.” My answer comes out like a hiss. I keep going. “I’ve only known Rich for about a year. Rich was always occupied with Heather. He had his suspicions about what was going on, everyone did, but I didn’t tell anyone. No one really knows what happened, except my brother, Jennifer, Vanessa, and now you. Well, you know the gist, but not the story. Why do you ask?”
“I was trying to gauge how much Rich might mean to you.”
“He means a lot to me, actually.”
Blake grows silent, but I can feel the building static in the seconds that go by.
I take advantage of the moment. “Shocked? I didn’t tell the people I care about the most how my boyfriend was abusing me, because, well, it’s hard to explain. It’s more of a personal problem than anything.”
“I’m not shocked. I’m trying to get a grasp on the situation.”
I take another bite of the pizza, trying to shrug it off, and find that his penetrating, catlike gaze is swallowing me whole.
“Why didn’t you just leave him, that guy, Jason?”
Hearing Blake say his name doesn’t sit well with me.
I chew my food, leaning back into the couch. “I loved him. That’s what dumb girls do.”
“You aren’t dumb.”
I try to hold back my smile. “I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?”
“Ouch.”
I flash him a full grin, and I like that we seem to be leveling out.
“Why do you ask me so many questions about it?”
“Call it research.” Though Blake answered promptly, his long, deft fingers rub at the edge of his lips, as if finding my question uncomfortable.
I wrinkle my nose. “Research? Are you sure you don’t want to go back to school and do that psychology thing?”
The sound of his laughter is like lighting a wick of dynamite. The tone sizzles delightfully through my veins and explodes in my heart, but right now I can only feel it between my thighs.
Ruffling his hair, he says, “School isn’t my thing, I told you. I ask because I care, and secondly, I have a friend kind of going through the same thing.”
I can assume it’s a girl, but I find the topic more uncomfortable than talking about Jason.
“Hmm,” is all I can manage. I don’t want to be his PSA for helping someone else. I can barely help myself.
“Is that my pizza?” His playful tone catches my attention, and I’m thankful for him taking charge of my wandering feelings.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m pretty sure this is Josh’s, which means it’s now mine.”
Blake tilts his head to the right in an adorable way. That dimple makes an appearance. “No, that’s mine. That’s my wheat and veggie pizza. Josh is the all meat kind of guy.”
I roll my eyes as I take another bite, more dramatically this time, and then make a face to emphasize its deliciousness.
“I think you’re wrong,” I contradict.
He scoots closer, leaning into me, making his intentions clear. The corners of my mouth ascend upward as he inches closer. I take another bite, and then hold the pizza out and away from me, knowing full well what he’s planning, but I ask anyway. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t be coy with me, Skyler. I want my pizza. I’m starving after that run, and there’s no food in the house. I was saving that.”
He leans farther, like a predator ready to pounce. I wonder if he’s hungry for more than the food.
“It’s too late.” I pout.
He smiles fully, maneuvering his body to sit up, looming over me. I feel the need to lean away from him, debating whether to make a run for it. However, his musky cologne has me wanting to stay to bask in his closeness.
“So you’re admitting it’s my pizza, then?”
I’m fully aware of the growing danger. Regardless, I take another bite of the pizza and move it away as quickly as possible, but he grabs my arm, holding it steady. Now his body is against me, and the contact is too much. The hard sinews of his body have me teetering on combustion
I open my mouth to protest, but my body betrays me. I feel my breath catch in my throat, and my heartbeat picks up its pace at Blake’s engulfing delectable smell, and the feel of him, hard and lean. This is definitely against the rules.
“I. Want. That. Pizza,” he says, each word a staccato.
I giggle again and try my hardest to keep it away from his grasp. “It’s mine now.”
As his grip tightens on my outstretched arm, he presses harder into me, and it takes everything in my power to hold back a moan.
“Blake, you should stop.”
I’m proud of my half-assed attempt, but I take a moment to devour the sight of the stubble that has formed on his angular jaw, and wonder how it would feel against me. Why does he have to be so damn beautiful? His sculpted lips pull into that smile that is oh-so distracting.
Then it happens.
His breath hitches, and that pull from the other night is there, hell, the pull from earlier today is there. That forbidden electricity sparks and ignites while my body pines for his. I worry that this is the normal effect he has on women, and it makes my stomach knot. I don’t like the idea of being like everyone else.
He presses against me and captures my gaze. “Say it, Skye.”
With his hand still grasping my hand and his body against me, it becomes harder to protest, let alone think.<
br />
“No.” That’s all I have.
My trembling lips give me away, but I will not submit to his game.
“Say you want me, and I’ll let you go.”
As if he can read my mind, his lips curl. However, I notice his eyes searching mine, and his breathing accelerates. The sheer idea that he wants me is baffling. I am nowhere close to the women he dates.
“Drop the pizza.”
Thoughts of my insignificance dissipate, and I’m confused.
“Drop the pizza?” I question.
He tilts his head, and licks his bottom lip. I’m mesmerized.
“Yes, drop it. Let go of it right where you’re at.”
The pizza is still in my outstretched hand, which is lazily trying to keep away from his grasp. I almost want to say something snarky, but his intense green eyes have me ready to obey.
I drop it.
I hear it splat on the wooden floor next to the couch, and I giggle. That sheepish, boyish grin I adore appears.
He loosens his grip but slides his hand slowly, with determination, down the length of my arm to my shoulder. Goose bumps appear on the surface of my skin. Before I can fathom the situation, he takes me by complete surprise and closes the distance between us.
I know I should stop it, but I don’t.
Instead, shocking even me, I lift my head up to meet his in a more hurried fashion, crashing his lips to mine. I can feel his smile against my lips at their first interaction since last night, and I’m so thankful that this kiss isn’t driven by my tears.
As his lips quicken their pace, devouring my mouth, I realize my lips missed his. Even though they had such a brief encounter before, his kiss is refreshing, and it stirs unrecognizable feelings.
Lust, perhaps?
Desire in its purest form?
I wish I knew.
The kiss is sweet, and I revel in how soft his lips feel. His skilled mouth controls mine—strong and confident. He tastes delectable as his lips part, coaxing my mouth to open for him, and our tongues twist around each other. The electric pull blazes out of control and everything speeds up. His kissing becomes needy and fueled by what I can only assume is his desire. This fact does things to me. His tongue takes no prisoners, exploring every bit of my mouth, and the only thing I can do is return the favor with equal fervor.
I bring my hands up to tangle in his thick hair. I have dreamt of doing this exact thing since we first met. As his kissing and breaths become more desperate, I tug on his hair. He releases a groan in appreciation at the pull, and sucks on my bottom lip.