Oh my God, thatwasn’ta dream.
The sound of crashing waves and seagulls calling filters into my senses as I look down at my “weighted blanket”. Blake’s arm is wrapped firmly around my torso, holding me securely against him. I sigh, relieved at the sight of him beside me and I don’t ignore the sense of security that I feel either when I spin in his embrace, finally facing him.
Blake looks like a peaceful angel as he sleeps, his skin slightly tan from the mid-October sun beaming down on us. His dark brown hair lays messily across his forehead and just as I’m about to reach up to touch his face, his low, sleepy voice comes out to play.
“Take a picture,” He grumbles, both eyes still closed and I would if I could but my phone is out of reach so I opt for the next best thing and kiss him.
He holds the back of my head in place as he deepens it and I’m just about to straddle him when my phone chimes, putting a pause on our make out.
Cupid
Dude what the fuck are you doing at the beach?
Okay Cleo this is getting out of control.
Sienna and Georgia said you didn’t come home last night
Where you at chica?????
Mama you up?
I’ll meet you at the brunch spot! Don’t worry I’ll get your Pina Colada too lmao
I’m so ready to get day drunk.
WOOT WOOOTTTTT
BIRTHDAY BRUNCH
BIRTHDAY BRUNCHHH
Oh my fucking goodness… I push myself out of Blake’s hold, wiggling to a sitting position as I read over a few of the messages that Jace had sent.
What day is it… It can’t be the 26th already. I think, but one quick glance at today’s date has my heart dropping to the pits of hell. I jump up to my feet, stumbling a bit on shaky legs as I read over the messages from the group chat with the girls, all asking about my whereabouts.
“What is it?” Blake’s tone is startled as he looks up at me from the ground, his hair ruffled with sleep and eyes still a bit puffy.
“The brunch! Today’s Jace’s birthday brunch. Fuck!” I curse.
Every year on the Saturday before October 31st, Jace, Georgia, Sienna, and I go out for brunch to celebrate our favorite Scorpio. We’d only ever missed one brunch together, and that was last year when I couldn’t make it to Maryland because of midterms.
Blake seems to catch my drift as he lets out a low curse before scurrying to clean up our things. He’s so quick that I don’t even notice that everything is packed up until he holds a hand out to me. He makes quick work of getting us onto the road and we sit in a tense, yet comfortable silence as we ride down the highway back to campus.
The usual 45-minute trek from Summer Cove Beach to Summerfield University took 30 minutes with Blake using the back roads and smooth driving skills. It isn’t until we’re parked in front of his house that I begin to freak out again, only to be shut down by him.
“My house is closer than your apartment, Princess. Take a shower here. Then we can head over to your place to change and go to brunch from there. I think Jace was just trying to get you to be on time. I double checked the reservation and it’s set for 1:30… It’s only 10 a.m. right now. You have time.” He gives my knee a reassuring squeeze. I wrap my hand around his and sigh, smiling up at him.
If Blake hadn’t been with me, I’m pretty sure I would have spiraled for being a bad friend.
“Now, c’mon… I’ll start a nice hot shower for you and then, we can have a little talk about last night.” He says in the most soothing voice ever that I almost don't hear the end of his sentence. I tense a bit at the mention of our night on the beach, but I sigh, following him into the townhouse. I don’t regretanything.
Hell, I’d do it again if I didn’t already think that you can’t recreate perfection.
“None of the guys’ cars are out front so we should be fine getting up to my room without interruption,” Blake says, looking back at me from the front door. His reassurance puts a part of me that I didn’t know was tense, at ease, but just as I’m about to let out a deep breath, the front door swings open.
“Yeah, I’ll be back! I just have to–WHAT THE FUCK?! What theactualfuck?! You’ve got to be fucking–What the fuck?!” Jace exclaims, going through the seven stages of grief.
He has his phone up to his ear, obviously talking to someone, but immediately hangs up at the sight of us. Jace’s mouth drops so low that I imagine him catching flies as he flips his green eyes between Blake and I furiously.
