He makes a face into his phone before showing me. For a girl who's never been kissed, that's some pretty serious stuff.
Maybe, but a girl has to start somewhere. I reply as quick as my fingers will let me. In all reality I'm off to a pretty slow start. Even Kaya, my lifelong, tied to the hip, best friend has done the deed with her longtime boyfriend. But in Kaya's defense they were in love, and he was tired of waiting. They broke up three months later. And that, right there, is my worst nightmare in a nutshell-giving it away to someone who is willing to forget you just three months later.
"You might want to pace yourself when it comes to reality." He motions to his lips and shrugs as if asking if I understood. I offer a quick thumbs up before responding.
Why do you care if I pace myself? I offer a challenging smile. Do you pace yourself?
Blake gives a long blink because we both know I've caught him red handed. Blake Daniels isn't the pacing type, and he all but admitted it. The wind settles a moment, and the trees stop swaying in the breeze long enough to create a dark, emerald backdrop to Blake's errant good looks. It's safe to say Blake doesn't need to pace himself when it comes to girls. He can travel as fast as he wants-he most likely does.
"I'm not you. I'm not good at pacing myself. And, trust me, you don't want to be me." He blows out a breath as he looks to the horizon. Blake pulls out his phone again. After my brother died I sort of slowed down. The guys in the band like to call the girls who flock the stage ‘rock candy.' Let's just say I've had my fair share of rock candy.
Rock candy? As in groupies? Sounds tasty. And slightly sexist but that doesn't seem to bother me.
"Yes, groupies." He reaches over and wraps his fingers through my hair a moment before letting it fall to my shoulder. My knees go weak at the simple action, and my heart starts to hammer in my chest again. A part of me wants to tell him he's already got those romance novels beat, but I don't dare boost his ego. Yet. "And I promise it's nothing to be intrigued about."
Yeah? What if I wanted to be one of those rock candy girls?
His smile digs in deep and devious, a hint of lust in his eyes that makes me want to figure out how to turn it up like the heat of a dangerous fire.
"I think you're better off being you." His features dim to pitch like a candle the wind just blew out.
What's wrong? I scoot in close, and now it's me running my fingers through his hair. It's softer than I imagined, thicker, and slick enough to make me glide right through it.
Blake leans back with a perplexed expression that lets me know he doesn't quite know how to put it into words. I guess I'm not rock candy material. Not that I find this revelation shocking, but it does make me wonder what he's doing with me.
"Sorry." I mouth as I pull my fingers from his neck.
"No, it isn't that." He covers my hand with his and warms it against his chest before hitting his phone. It's just-it makes me sad that you weren't able to hear the music.
I sag into him with a tired grin before jotting down a note. Is that how you cast your spell on all those unsuspecting girls? The truth is, I didn't need to hear anything last night. I was already under his spell from the moment he pinned me to that bush. It would figure. I'm probably the only girl on the planet who could find herself in the bushes with a gorgeous boy and have it be totally chaste. My brothers should be proud. I'm the hero of virgins everywhere.
He belts out a laugh, and I can feel his body shaking with joy.
"No, I promise that's not it." He lets go to type into his cellphone. But if I told you my secrets, things might get dicey up here, and for sure your brothers would want to kill me.
Fair enough. Maybe you can lend me the lyric sheets to some of your songs? I would love to know what you're singing up there.
He smiles into the phone. Done.
The sun starts to dip into the horizon, and he motions for us to head to the overlook one more time. Blake puts his arm around my shoulder once again, and it feels natural, not at all intrusive. If Tristan were bold enough to try it, I might be moved to fling him over the side of the mountain myself. But, with Blake, I find myself leaning in closer, yearning for the heat from his body to keep me warm. I want to take it all in-all of him. My face turns toward his as I inhale his fresh, soapy scent, the mint streaming from his breath. Blake turns just enough, and our noses almost touch. My stomach stings in a wild pang of heat. A chill runs through me from head to toe, and I feel light headed and euphoric all at the same time. His gorgeous eyes bear into mine, and no matter how much my stomach demands to drop to middle earth, I can't look away. My heart rattles out a threat, and, right about now, I don't care if it leaps from my throat.
"Are you going to let me kiss you?" he says the words slowly, and I have to laugh because I realize he desperately wanted me to understand them.
I shake my head.
"Why not?" He winces, genuinely perplexed. I'm pretty sure Blake Daniels isn't too familiar with the word no.
I pull back and dive into my phone just trying to get my bearings. Because I hardly know you. You're a perfect stranger, remember? I try to ignore the fact this perfect stranger has his arm wrapped around my shoulder.
He motions for my phone, and I slip it into his hand. You drove here with me-alone. Blake holds back the grin blooming on his face. If anything I've amused him.
I take my phone. I never said I was smart.
"You're smart." Blake runs his hand through my hair before typing again. You want it to be special-with the right person-memorable.
Which romance novel taught you that? I ask, trying desperately not to flirt. But I'm flirting, and I don't care how desperate it comes across.
"This one." He tucks his fingers to his heart. "I want that for you, too."
A breath hitches in my throat. Blake wants that for me, too. I float in his words as we watch the sun set in a show of pink and gold until the sky bursts to life in a rich shade of amber.
We drive back to campus in a comfortable silence.
If he asked for that kiss a second time, I would have given it to him.
Blake
The couch at Danny's fraternity holds the comfort of granite and smells like piss and vomit. I'm pretty sure it has an extensive sexual history and more than likely has transmitted a few exciting diseases all on its own. It's disgusting as ass crack-not that I'm complaining. The frat boys were nice enough to let me store my crap in their attic, so, at least for now, the Hefty bags that hold what's left of my brother and me are warm and dry. I've used their laundry room, their showers, and raided their fridge a time too many, so any minute now I expect to get the big heave ho.
The band and I played at the Black Bear twice this week, and both times Annie has showed up with her trusty camera. She sits at the same table with her back against the wall, and I've grown accustomed to turning toward her when I pour my soul out in song. Turning toward Annie is like turning toward the light. It's natural. Every inclination in me is to turn my being toward her. She's pulling something out of me, demons, angels. They're all in there fighting for dominance over my weary soul, and only Annie can get me where I need to be. Funny, I've never gifted a girl that much power before but then again it isn't really a gift, she just had it. She has me.
My phone rings pulling me out of my momentary trance, and I pluck it out. It's Wyatt. Him I've been avoiding. Not sure why. Hell, I know why. He's going to ask how I'm doing, and I've never been a good liar. I've never been good at talking through my feelings or any other shit like that, so I let it go to voicemail. I'll try to deal with him this weekend.
I shoot a text to Olivia and tell her I'll be over in an hour. She texts right back.
I'm in town. Meet me at the donut shop on Central. I want a dozen in my stomach yesterday. I'm having a serious craving for something glazed. You have anything you want me to dip in sugar and lick?
I'd laugh if it I knew she weren't serious. Just a dozen? Pace yourself. See you in a few.
I take a quick shower before examining my arm and back in the fogged mirror. The day we put Benji in the ground is the same day I went over to Sam at Tenacious Tats and had him do me up. I wanted an exact replica of what my brother had-skull and cross bones, ivy dotted with roses running down my body. It was the only way I could think to remember him outside of looking at my own reflection. I wanted more than his face. I wanted a piece of him, something tangible.