“Is the whole team going, Ry? I can’t be out with you guys for a long—”
“We already have plans,” Blake interrupts, now fully facing me.
I had plans? If I had plans today, I’d surely know. I keep all my plans scheduled in my little red notebook. I scrunch my eyebrows at Blake as his eyes gleam.
“Ourdate, remember?” His tone is teasing as he nudges my shoulder as the rest of the chatter from our group ultimately dies down.
At this, my brother smirks. Ryan isn’t the most overprotective sibling hence him and I talking about everything. And since leaving New York and my ex-boyfriend, Ry’s been pushing me to go on dates... I’m the one who’s not ready.
“A date?” Ryan teases, poking my cheek and it doesn’t go unnoticed the way Blake tenses beside me.
“Yup. It’s Wednesday and this beauty and I have plans. So, if you’ll excuse us—”
“No. I have things to—" I try to say, only for my traitorous brother and Georgia to interrupt.
“I’ll do it!” She shoots up to her feet, clearly one of the few to listen to our conversation.
Ryan on the other hand is calmer as he says, “I’ll schedule another hangout for us, CJ.”
Well fuck me, they’re basically pimping me out! I am a woman. I have rights—
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart,” Blake whispers to me, his lips grazing the bottom of my ear and I shudder at the contact.
What was I saying about rights and morals again?
Right, I have...
I…uh…
Fuck me
twelve
Blake
When it comes tothe female population, I’d say that I’ve been pretty lucky in the courting and winning hearts department. But sitting here across from Cleo inside of Doug’s Diner with only an order of buffalo wings and an uncomfortable silence between us is not something that has ever happened in the history of Blake Wilder and Women.
Cleo’s gaze is narrow as she watches me pick up one of the single wings on our shared plate. She eyes me suspiciously as I eat it and I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole thing.
Not even two weeks ago we were practically hooking up in my bedroom—which was incredible, might I add. But now here we are on a random Wednesday in September, sitting in an off-campus diner, staring at each other like one of us has grown two heads.
I clear my throat, shifting in my soft seat as an attempt to break the silence. This had been so easy when she and I were around others but now that we’re alone, I’ve lost all fearlessness.
“So…” she starts, looking everywhere but me as she tugs a straightened piece of her hair behind her ear. I’m thankful for her being the one to initiate whateverthisis. So, I take the bone she threw out and run with it.
“21 questions?” I ask, cringing internally. I never said that I thought about my words before I said them.
Cleo snorts at my abruptness, covering her mouth as she chuckles at herself.
The action is adorable and heartwarming, and my ears heat up because even though it’s at my expense, I’m happy to be the one to make her laugh no matter if it was accidental or not.
“How about five,” she says, amusement laced in her tone.
“Fifteen.” I shrug, gaining my confidence out of nowhere as I place three wings on a saucer and slide it in front of her.
Since sitting here, she hasn’t eaten a single thing, other than the cherry from the Shirley Temple she’d drank.
“Ten,” she counters, raising an eyebrow at the wings before taking one. “Thanks.” her lips curve slightly, as if she wants to smile but refuses to do the action at the same time.
