by LJ Evans
When we got there, we had to find street parking a couple blocks down. Wynn and I lived in the second story of an early 1900s home that had been converted into apartments. There was really only street parking. It was a reason I used my bike a lot. But, heck, I would have used my bike a lot anyway.
Blake opened the car door and walked alongside me down the sidewalk in the direction of my apartment. I felt oddly nervous for the first time all night. It wasn’t nervous like I was scared, but like I had pent-up energy kind of nervousness. A way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The streetlight lit up our stone steps pretty well, and I noticed the light was on in our apartment which meant Wynn was waiting to see how things had gone. I hit the first step and turned back to Blake to say good night. It put us almost eye-to-eye.
He tugged at the scarf that Anne had made me wear, and the motion pulled me closer to him. Before I could even think about it, he was kissing me. A good kiss. Not slobbery. Not quite as intense as yours had been, but still demanding something back from me. Not just sitting there whimpering. Not angry like Seth’s. It made my insides, that I thought had died, twirl. It knocked my nerve endings awake after a long, long sleep.
He stepped back a little, still holding onto the scarf so that I wouldn’t run away. And I had completely conflicted emotions toward Anne and the scarf. On the one hand, I felt like I should thank her profusely for suggesting it, and on the other hand, I felt just a bit panicked. I hadn’t let anyone kiss me. Not since you. And Blake had just done that. And it had felt good. Really good, to be honest. My brain was saying I’d betrayed you in some way, but my body was doing a silent high five with my lips.
Blake looked down into my eyes, and he was somber, but there was still a smile on his face.
“I really liked that,” he said.
It made me laugh. I think, now that I am writing this, and now that I know him a little better, that he’d said it just that way on purpose so I would laugh because he’d known I was feeling conflicted.
“I’d like to do that again sometime. Maybe even tomorrow?” he continued.
I pushed at him with my hand, trying to pull Anne’s scarf away, but he wasn’t letting go yet. “You’re such an egomaniac. What makes you think I’d like to do it again?”
He grinned lazily. “Let’s just say that I am not an idiot when it comes to girls.”
And it didn’t even make me mad. The fact that he was making fun of you; saying that he was better at something than you. I was relieved that someone could actually joke with me about you. Tease me about you without fearing I’d break down into hysterics.
I tried to pretend that I was offended though, “You’ll have to call me in the morning. Maybe I’ll have changed my mind by then.”
I tugged again, and this time he let me go, but he was still smiling that confident smile. He took my key from my hand, mounted the steps, and unlocked the door for me. See. Complete gentleman. Then he bopped me on the nose with his finger like you’d done a million times as he headed down the steps.
“Sleep tight, Super Girl.”
And he was gone in the night.
♫ ♫ ♫
So…what would you have thought? That’s my big question now. If I’d told you this story maybe when we’d both been dating other people? Would you have thought it was sweet? Would you have warned me away? Or would you be happy because it was Blake and Blake was good people? Had come from good people.
Wynn said it was good. That he was perfect for me because he knew you. That he knew our story. That I didn’t need to explain to him the things that I couldn’t possibly explain to another guy. Things like the fact that no one could ever take your place. I’d never love anyone the way I’d loved you no matter how cliché that was. The way I still loved you. That I wouldn’t have to explain that I was going through life as if my right arm was missing. Would always be missing.
But people without arms can live complete and happy lives, right? Blake already knew all of my history. He’d lived much of it too. He’d seen us together. He knew that I wasn’t completely me without you, but he made me feel like the me that I was, was still enough.
State of Grace
“This is a state of grace,
This is the worthwhile fight.”
- Taylor Swift
I never would have expected Blake. Could never have seen him sweeping into my life. But it was kind of nice to feel like there was someone out there willing to force me into a brand-new world. Into something that could feel good and happy and true.
After that first day, Blake and I saw each other every day for another week. We’d catch dinner and a movie. Or go to a club so he could watch some up-and-coming. Or go bowling. Do you know how long it had been since I’d been bowling? And he even took me riding out of town where he had a horse stabled. It was good to do something with him that had always been just mine. Something you’d never been good at, and funnily enough, the thing that Blake himself had taught me.
On one hand, it felt fantastic to be that competitive girl again. To be the girl some guy was trying to beat. It felt like I was a little more myself than I had been since you’d gone. On the other hand, it was bringing up different thoughts of you that I hadn’t had in a long time either. I felt good, but sad at the same time.
One night, about a week into our new thing, we were at my apartment watching some stupid show about white trash lottery winners that Blake thought was hilarious. We were on the couch, but we weren’t really watching it. We were fooling around a bit. He was touching me in ways that I hadn’t thought anyone would again. And my body was on high alert, when his phone rang.
He’d been waiting all night for an important call about a contract he was trying to sign with some folks in L.A. So, he groaned, rested his head on my chest for a moment, but then looked at the screen. When he saw the picture of the person calling, he chuckled and tossed the phone on the side table.
“Just Matt. I can talk to him later,” he said and moved as if he was going to return his lips to mine, but I pushed his chest and turned my head.
“Matt! What have you told Matt about us?”
“Everything,” Blake said with that lazy, knowing smile that both made me want to strangle him and hug him.
“What?!”
“He’s jealous as hell by the way. Told me that it was incredibly unfair that I ran into you. I told him I was closing the deal he was unable to close.”
I used all my force to push him off of me, and he hit the floor laughing.
“Egomaniac!”
He was still laughing. “I’m just kidding! Matt’s happily married. A beauty queen from Texas just as into the ranch and rodeo thing as he is.”
I sat, legs crisscrossed, arms across my chest, glaring at him.
“He was still jealous though. After all, you’re Super Girl.”
“Kiss ass!”
“Yep! That’s me,” he reached up and yanked on my leg so that I fell, sprawling onto him. “But it’s all for a good cause.”
And he kissed me hard, thoroughly leaving me breathless and still wanting more. His hand was up my shirt and had undone the clasp at the back of my bra, in two seconds flat. And I was just debating in my head how far I was going to let this go, when his phone rang again. He tried to ignore it, but I pulled away and reached up to grab the phone. It wasn’t Matt. No Matt picture on the lock screen, so I handed it to him.
He answered it, and I took the time to put myself back together; hooking my bra back up, moving away, and going into the kitchen to get two more beers.
When he was done with his call, he found me there. Took the beers, put them on the counter and pulled me close, kissing me again. But this felt more like a goodnight kiss. Like he was trying to cool us both off instead of heading in for the kill like he had been before. And I knew very well that I would have been the kill.
“I guess I’m leaving for L.A. tonight,” he said with his hands on my hips,
pulling me closer into him while he leaned up against the counter. I was between his legs, trapped a little, but in a good way.
“That’s great!” I said, truly happy that he was going to get to close the contract.
“Hey!” he said, pretending to be offended.
“That way my other boyfriend will get some time in,” I said, playing back.
“Did I ever tell you that I have complete access to a full-time hit man as part of my work in the entertainment industry?”
“Ha ha.”
“Well, I might have to do the job myself because you’re not famous, but I’m definitely not willing to share you.”
It pleased me. A lot. That we’d only been seeing each other for a week, and yet he had kind of claimed me as his own. I didn’t even know very much about his past relationships. What other women he’d been seeing before me. Just that atrocious blind date that had led him to hate an entire neighborhood.
“So, you’re leaving,” I said breathless as he ran his fingers along the top of my jeans on the skin by my hip bones.
“Unfortunately. I do travel quite a bit in this job. L.A. and New York mostly. When I get there, it’ll be all crazy hell for twenty-four or forty-eight hours.”
“But you love it.”
He grinned a little. “I do. I did. But right now, I’m thinking there’s actually a place I’d rather be.” And he stared into my eyes and then was kissing me again with a passion that felt reckless and deep and a little over the edge. I was definitely the kill. He was going to make sure he had me just where he wanted, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop it. But then, suddenly, he pulled back, “Wait. Do you want to come with me?”
He looked eager. Like a kid waiting to be rewarded with a gold star. But I shook my head and laughed at him. “No way. I have things to do here. Apartments to look at. Teens to save.”
“That’s right, Super Girl to the rescue.” He smiled his self-assured smile at me but seemed to be searching my eyes as well. “Maybe next time? If I give you more warning?” He looked like he really wanted me to say yes. Like he was counting on it.
I nodded. Not really ready to commit to anything. It seemed weird to be thinking that far ahead. Blake and I hadn’t really been about that. We’d just gone like green-light-go and not really stopped to think about anything further ahead.
He kissed me again and then sighed. “I guess I better get going then. Gotta go pack a bag and get a flight.”
I stepped out of his legs, and he let me, but he held my hand all the way to the door. He turned back and smiled at me. “God, you look good,” he said and then flicked my nose playfully, and was off down the steps in a bound. He was so full of energy and life. Life…
♫ ♫ ♫
With him gone, I got to really pause and reflect. And the truth was that I wasn’t just thinking about you in my quiet times now. I have to say, that my thought might start with you, but it almost always ended up with Blake. When my phone vibrated, my heart would jump and soar a little, and when I heard his voice, I got excited. Yep. Excited. Smile and everything.
It made me realize that while, to Blake, this might be some lighthearted fun, it was quickly becoming more serious for me. And I wasn’t sure I could do that again. Serious. It hadn’t really ended well for me the last time. I’d spent twenty years on you, only to have you up and die on me.
But it was still nice to hear his voice. He’d tell me who he was meeting with and something funny that had happened, and he always asked about me. How my day had gone, how had the meeting with Johnny been? It amazed me that he’d remember these little minute details of my life that sometimes I might have forgotten even myself if he hadn’t asked about it.
And he always ended the call telling me that he was missing me, and that he couldn’t wait to get back to Nashville to see me again. That he was thinking up something good for us to do so that I wouldn’t think he was predictable.
Seth hadn’t been predictable either, but that hadn’t been good. With Blake, I was thinking unpredictable might be a whole lot tamer. He was offended by that when I mentioned it. Like calling him a teddy bear that first day.
♫ ♫ ♫
When he got back, Blake showed up in swim trunks on my doorstep. He had a t-shirt on too, but swim trunks, really? I let him in, and he told me that he couldn’t get it out of his head how I’d always beaten him at the lake. Which was a lie. I hadn’t always beaten him. He’d been five years older than me, and an all-muscle, testosterone-driven boy, but he said, in his head, he always had me winning.
I laughed at him and said I wasn’t going swimming with him. He said he wasn’t taking no for an answer. That he’d already got a picnic lunch in the car, and he was planning on taking me out to a lake. Not our lake, but a lake all the same.
I got stubborn. I’m not sure why. Lord, I was happy to see him. But you know how I can be. I crossed my arms over my chest and placed my hips apart in my I-don’t-think-so stance. Blake just burst out laughing at it. “Oh my God, that is exactly how I remember you!”
He didn’t even bat an eye. He just tossed me over his shoulder like a bag of cornmeal and started toward the door. But I just couldn’t. His holding me like that reminded me of you. The lake made me think of you. Racing at a lake was you. And all of it was something I couldn’t do. Not without you. I just couldn’t.
All of a sudden, I was hyperventilating and crying and pounding on his back. It took him a couple of seconds before he got that I wasn’t playing around, and when he put me down and looked at my tear-stained face, I could tell he felt like a total cad.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean to. God. I’m sorry.”
I just kind of clung to him for a moment. Then I sniffled and got hold of myself and stepped away to look up at him.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m just still a little messed up sometimes.”
He looked like he’d just run over a puppy.
“I didn’t think about it that way. About the racing and the lake…”
And I knew he hadn’t.
I was ready for him to try to beat a hasty goodbye. I’d just thoroughly embarrassed him and me both. But he didn’t. He lifted a hand and wiped away a tear, which only made more tears come because it was so something you’d do too. And all of a sudden, I was mad. Not at him. At me. I hadn’t cried like this in so long.
Then he bent his head and lifted mine and started kissing the tears. He pulled me close again, and in that moment, a switch was clicked, and I wasn’t thinking about you anymore. I was thinking about Blake. And the way he smelled nothing like you, but he still smelled like country and boy. And the way his lips felt so soft and yet rough on my cheeks. How he was there, and how it felt good to be held and kissed.
And I reached for his lips and was kissing him back. Fervently, like I had found something I never thought I’d find again, but that, somehow, I had found in him. I ran my hands down his arms and his back and let them make their way to his blonde hair that curled at the nape of his neck.
He pressed his body tighter against mine. And his gentle kisses became needier. More demanding. And he was pulling me into him. And it felt good. It wasn’t you, but it was some place that I could also belong.
I started tugging at his t-shirt so that I could feel his skin against mine, and he obliged me by removing my t-shirt at the same time. We were breathing heavy, and for the first time in years, I felt alive again. Truly, one hundred percent alive. Like every nerve ending that had been asleep, and that Blake had started to reawaken, was truly and fully awake; hurting from lack of use and wanting to be used.
I pulled him toward my bedroom. He picked me up and was kissing me everywhere. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we banged laughingly into the pictures on the hallway wall. We reached the door that was mine, and we made our way in, never removing some part of our bodies from our lips.
He tossed me onto the b
ed and then stopped at the foot of the bed and watched me.
“Look. It’s not that I don’t want to. God help me, but I do. But I don’t want this to be about Jake.”
I loved how he wasn’t afraid to say your name or bring you up or remind me of you. I knelt up on the bed and pulled him toward me, kissing him hard, full of longing.
“I promise you. This is only about you.”
“And you.”
I laughed, “And me.”
And he placed his hands on either side of my waist and pulled me into him. He was strong and muscled. Broader than you in many ways. And he knew tricks you didn’t. Sorry. But he did. Maybe because he was older and had been single for so much longer. All I know is that when I was with him it was good in an entirely new way. A way that I could never compare to you. I didn’t want to compare it to you. I wanted it to be about Blake.
♫ ♫ ♫
Later, we ordered in Chinese food. And I realized that it was kind of nice not having to worry, really, about what Blake was eating or not eating. That I could tantalize him with my MoonPies, and he’d fight me over them. It was… a relief. God, I felt guilty even thinking it, but it was true. And it made me feel bad about how hard I’d been on Amber when she’d dumped you your senior year after your seizure in the hall. I got it now.
Wynn came home and caught Blake in his boxers in the kitchen. I laughed to see him use his Southern manners in apologizing, but at the same time, not being in the least bit self-conscious by his nakedness.
Wynn looked like she was going to shed her skin she was so happy. I mean, not at Blake’s nakedness, but wow, that was a good sight too. She was happy for me. Happy that I was smiling. That he was making me smile.
♫ ♫ ♫
Later that night, he had me sprawled out on my stomach while he was massaging my back in ways that were certainly not going to be allowed in any legitimate massage parlor, when he dropped a bombshell.
“I was just thinking. Maybe instead of looking for your own place, you should move into mine.”