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“Thanks,” I mumble, turning to face him again.
But he avoids my eyes and reaches over me to open the cabinet door, inadvertently pinning me against the counter, and he brings a mug down for me.
“Thank you,” I repeat quietly, unsure whether I’m flattered or offended by the gesture. The shelf is admittedly high for someone of my stature, after all.
He glares at me for a full second before he steps away and returns to his previous spot.
“Would you happen to know where my phone ended up?” I venture as I clamp the lid down over the pod.
“Not exactly. I’ll call it.” He slips his phone from his back pocket, and I’m surprised he even has my number saved. But then I remember the text messages we’ve been exchanging over the past week while helping JD and Tenley piece together their impromptu wedding.
My phone begins ringing nearby, bringing me back from my thoughts. Apparently, I never even bothered to take it out of my purse last night. I turn away from the coffee to retrieve the phone while Blake reaches into the fridge. He sets a carton of heavy cream and a small container of low-calorie sugar substitute down in front of me.
“Sorry, this is all I have,” he says quietly, going around to sit on the other side of the island.
“You would drink boring coffee,” I reply without thinking, and his lips turn up slightly.
I stir as I make a quick scan of the missed notifications. There’s a text from Tenley, apologizing for bailing on our celebration dinner. Well, it’s more of a “sorry, not sorry” and a promise to talk later. I chuckle to myself before I look up to find Blake staring at me again.
“Your sister-in-law asked for a raincheck on the family wedding dinner,” I explain as I take a sip, the caffeine instantly soothing my throbbing head. “I’m surprised JD allowed her to make contact with the outside,” I add with a smirk.
He nods knowingly before bringing his mug up. “Never seen a man more infatuated than my brother.”
“But Tenley’s totally crazy about him, too. It’s sweet. And romantic.” The conversation feels a little too familiar, and I wonder how much of this we talked about last night.
“Yeah, I guess. If you’re into that stuff.”
“Should we place bets on due dates yet?” I joke.
He snorts. “I’d put money on an announcement within the month.”
Our eyes meet, and it doesn’t feel like either of us are talking about JD and Tenley anymore. We’re just tiptoeing around a discussion of our current situation.
Blake clears his throat, as if he’s read my mind. “Loren, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have initiated anything in the state we were both in.”
I shrug. “We can share the blame. I’m sure I made a fool of myself, since I rarely drink that much and never enough to warrant a walk of shame the next morning.”
He smiles at me again, and my cheeks flush slightly. “Then you’re being remarkably cool for having just awakened in the bed of your sworn enemy,” he says, a tinge of humor coloring his voice.
“Aw, are we not enemies anymore?” I stick out my bottom lip in a playful pout.
“You didn’t seem to hate me so much last night,” he reminds me with a cocked eyebrow.
“What can I say? I’d forgotten how good you were with your tongue,” I deadpan over my mug, making him laugh loudly.
“I was hoping you’d update my customer review. My skills should have improved over the past seventeen years or so.” He stares at me for a minute, his blue eyes sparkling.
I swallow hard before I answer, because the more I remember about last night, the more stars I could add to my verified review of the “Blake Bourgeois Experience.”
“Maybe a smidge,” I finally allow. “But I think you’ve had a lot more practice since then.”
His smile fades. “I had to pass the time somehow,” he remarks, his tone more serious.
I furrow my brow and take another sip as I consider what he’s implying before self-preservation takes over again. “Look, Blake. We don’t have to do this. I’m a big girl. I don’t need your pity.”
“My pity?”
“I don’t need you to pretend that last night meant anything to you just because you figure I don’t usually do this random-hookup thing.”
