So waking up Saturday morning, with no company for the first time in a week, I was already feeling a little restless. But since Nancy came by to pick up the girls, leaving me completely alone, I’m beginning to feel absolutely stir crazy. While sitting at my kitchen table and drumming my fingers, trying to enjoy “mommy time” as Nancy put it, I’m actually relieved when my phone rings. I pick it up expecting the girls, but when I look at the screen I’m pleasantly surprised.
“What’s up, Blake?” I say with an obvious smile in my voice.
“Not much. I was just calling to see how my favorite girls are holding up. I understand Harlow’s services are no longer needed. I assume your hand is better?” Blake asks in a sexy tone. Man, I’ve missed his voice.
God, I’m such a fiend.
I purposely didn’t call him this week even though I fought the temptation every night. I wanted him to call. I didn’t want to bother him; I figured he would call when he had time. So, hearing his voice on the other line, I can’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction knowing I wasn’t the first to cave in the calling department.
“Yeah, it’s healing. It still aches a little sometimes, but it’s much better. Thanks for asking.” My heart is racing for some reason. I’ve known this man for an eternity; I don’t know why I’m suddenly so nervous to talk to him. “Hey,” I hesitate before I continue. “Let’s do something. I’m going out of my mind. The girls are with Nancy for the day and I can’t stay in this house any longer. Please, Blake!”
I can hear his sexy chuckle over the phone and my heart flip flops in my chest. Man, I must really be going crazy from the fifteen minutes of no social interaction.
“Actually, Alex,” he starts off. “That’s why I was calling. I was hoping to do something with all the Meyer girls today. But I guess you’ll do.” He finishes with that damn sexy chuckle again and my stomach feels like a thousand butterflies have suddenly taken flight inside it.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Get over here and entertain me, damn it.”
“Will do. I’ll be there in ten. Wear something comfortable,” he adds mysteriously and hangs up.
Jeez – if this were a real live date I’d be pissed. No wonder he doesn’t date anyone. Ten minutes to get ready. Seriously?
I jump up out of my seat, catching it before it falls backwards onto the kitchen floor, and make a mad dash to the bedroom. I throw on my yoga pants, the ones that make my ass look good, not that it matters, my favorite homemade purple tank top which reads “National Sarcasm Society: Like We Need Your Support”, and my black blinged out flip flops, because every woman needs a little bling now and then. I brush out my hair and put it in a pony tail, ahh...how I’ve missed you ponytail, and throw on my NY Yankees baseball hat. I add a bit of mascara and some lip gloss to my face and poof…I’m done. Giving myself a last appraisal in mirror, I’m satisfied with the outcome of my appearance.
Ha! Take that Blake Morgan with your ten minute ready requirement.
Walking into the living room, I hear the rumble of his motorcycle coming up my driveway. I open the door and watch him get off his bike. He removes his sunglasses and shakes out his windblown hair, which of course looks sexy as hell. The ends of his hair turn up around his ears and fall to the collar of his very well fitting v-neck black t-shirt. His blue jeans, frayed at the bottom, just barely drag the ground over his black boots.
Mmmmm-mmmmm.
He turns around to take the keys out of his ignition and my breath hitches as I drop my glance and note (privately of course) that his bottom looks very nice in those jeans. Very nice indeed. Turning around to face me, he gives me a sexy lop-sided grin while he tucks the sunglasses into the front of his shirt so they hang from the “V” and runs his hand through his hair.
I try to swallow, but my throat is really dry…probably because I have been watching him with my mouth wide open. I immediately start to cough.
“You okay, Alex?” he asks with a knowing smile.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to breathe through my coughing attack. “I think I swallowed a gnat. Gross. I’m gonna go get some water. Come on in.” I whip around and head into the house as fast as I can so he won’t be able to see that my face has turned a new shade of red. So embarrassing.
I hear him laugh as he enters the house, which makes me walk even faster, trying to increase the distance between us. I’m actually breathing hard by the time I get to the kitchen. I should really start working out more.
I quickly grab a glass of ice water and take a swig, hoping it will help with my face. Not really sure how that will work…
I set the glass down and turn to see Blake walking into the kitchen. “You sure you’re okay?” he inquires.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
I pop myself up on the counter by the sink and take a seat with my legs dangling over the dishwasher. “What’s the plan, Stan?” I ask him. I really have no idea what we’re doing.
Blake walks right over to me and reaches to grab the water that I just placed on the counter. Really? Can the man not get his own freakin’ glass of water?
My body responds to his closeness when he brushes my leg with his. I feel a shock race throughout my entire body and I unintentionally jump. He looks over at me with a hint of a smile. God his eyes really are amazing.
“Well…I was hoping we could take the boat out. Like old times. But if we do, we’re gonna have to use your truck to pull it. I hope you don’t mind. Mom and Dad are still out of town and I can’t pull it with my bike, obviously. Or, we can just find something else to do. Up to you.” He places the glass back down beside me. Another electrical pulse radiates through me when his arm grazes mine. I scoot over a centimeter. He chuckles again under his breath and I hop off the counter.
Jeez…What’s going on with me today?
“Fishing sounds great!” I respond. I’m not really sure why I sound so excited.
I really need to get out of here. Maybe I’ll be normal again with a little fresh air. “We can take the truck, that’s fine! Let’s get going then!” Okay, I seriously need to tone down the over enthusiasm a bit.
I grab the keys off the counter and speed walk towards the door. I have to get out of this house because, honestly, I’m extremely freaked out. I haven’t felt anything like this since Derek. I don’t know what’s going on but it has to stop; I’m friends with Blake and I intend for it to stay that way. Friendship is comfortable – crushing on Blake, not-so-much.
Jumping in the truck and starting the ignition, I wait for Blake to exit the house. I watch as he closes the door behind him and holds his hand above his eyes, looking across the driveway.
“You have sunglasses, dummy!” I shout from the safety of my Suburban.
“I know!” he shouts back. “I was just making sure you weren’t taking one last speed walking around the block before we head out.” Sarcasm. Noted.
One major internal eye roll and a deep sigh later, I motion for him to get his ass to the truck. “Are we fishing or are we just going to stand around today?” Looking like a freakin’ Diesel Jeans ad. Dumb.
He takes his sunglasses off of his shirt and slides them over his eyes. “We’re fishing,” he says, walking to the Suburban. He slides into the passenger seat and flashes me his trademark smile. I jokingly roll my eyes at him and lightly punch his arm. “Don’t pull that sexy smile on me, Blake Morgan. Sarcasm is only acceptable when I use it.” I point to my shirt. “I don’t see your ‘National Sarcasm Society’ shirt. Therefore, I’m the only one with free reign to use it. You can just keep yours to yourself.”