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Blade squeezed my hand, signaling that he was going to take the lead. “I’m lucky to have landed a girl like her, that’s for damn sure. And that’s all that matters to me, sir.”
Dr. Westmeyer winked at Blade, fully aware of what was going on. “You two enjoy yourselves today. Good seeing you again, Isabella. And go Jaguars.”
Blade ushered me aside the second Dr. Westmeyer was out of sight. “What are the chances he tells people we’re dating?”
“Pretty high,” I said, nervously glancing around the room. “How do you feel about that?”
Blade pulled me in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist before making his way to my ass cheeks. “It makes me feel amazing, baby. But you’re tensing up again. What’s wrong?”
A million things were wrong.
I wanted nothing more than to officially be Blade’s girlfriend, but I’d grown up with the other people in that room. I was groomed by my parents to be a high-class woman, and there I was, letting a man-whore put his hands all over me while I stood there in a slutty dress.
“Nothing. It’s just, I don’t know. Being here brings up so many memories.”
He pushed my long, blonde hair out of my face so softly that my knees wanted to go weak. I wasn’t used to him being soft and sweet with me. Sure, there were occasions where he’d say something oddly romantic, but they were few and far in between. We seemed to excel when his cock was inside of me, and everything else was the cherry on top of that. My knees threatened to give out on me. They wanted to surrender my body to Blade, but they couldn’t. All I kept thinking about were the rumors that’d be going around Westfield, fueled along by my slutty outfit.
And I knew it shouldn’t bother me, but it’s next to impossible to erase two decades of expectations in the span of just a few short months.
Blade settled for a hug, wrapping his arms around me as I let out a lowly sigh. As I inhaled his scent, I couldn’t help but notice my parents’ best friends watching us. They were even more toxic than my parents and the biggest gossips in Westfield, if not all of Indiana. By that time the following day, I’d be known as the girl who showed up dressed like a hooker to a charity event, clinging to the arm of The Bedroom King. Most likely, there’d be some variation of lies where drugs would be blamed for my rebellion.
I pulled away from Blade, grabbed his hand, and rushed towards a nearby supply closet. I pushed him inside the small, dimly lit room and while the door was still open, I shoved him against the wall. I dropped to my knees and angled my head over my shoulder, making sure my parents’ best friends saw me as I kicked the door closed with one foot.
I’d give them something to talk about.
