Holt manufactures a grin.“I guess we do. Say—what was the name of your last girlfriend?”
Blake’s Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I’m embarrassed to say this, but it was probably a one-night stand. I used to have a bit of a rock candy addiction.” He looks to me with regret in his eyes. “Sorry.”
“The long one”’—Holt isn’t letting this go—“you know, the last one you do remember.”
Blake and Holt enter into a silent standoff, just staring one another down as if they’re about to go for the jugular.
This is ridiculous, I sign to my brother.I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating him one bit. Knock it off. Say something nice, or just go away.
Blake warms my back with his hand. “No, it’s okay. Her name was Olivia.”
Olivia. My heart thuds a few times abnormally. I think I like her referenced better as the long one. Giving her a name, that name, makes it sound serious. Olivia sounds sophisticated. A laceration of pain whips through me at who this Olivia girl might be. I scowl at my brother. I know his game. Get in my head with this girl’s name, and I won’t let their ghost of a relationship rest until I’ve extinguished mine. Well, it’s not going to work.
“Olivia Noster?” Holt’s brows rise, and he looks pleasantly surprised as if he knows her. But it’s all an act, both Blake and I know it. Holt wants her real last name so he can probe into Blake’s past looking for some rope to hang him with. I hate to break it to Holt, but he’s the one who’s going to find his neck cinched, his feet dangling off the ground.
Blake huffs a dry laugh. His eyes close a moment. “No, not that one.” He clasps his arm over my shoulder.
“Did you love her?”Holt spears him with his gaze.
Blake stills. His chest rises and falls with his next breath, but he doesn’t answer his question.
“You did.”Holt shrugs.“That’s what I wanted to hear. It’s good. Now with Annie you have something to gauge your feelings with. First love can be tricky to navigate because you can’t see the bigger picture.”His jaw pops as if he’s getting angry.“But, then again, you never forget your first love. It’s just one of those things.”
“We’ll see you around.” Blake pulls me in tighter.
“Later.” Holt doesn’t break eye contact with Blake.
Bryson tries to lure us into a conversation, but I hold up a hand as we make our way to the truck.
I’m done with my brothers.
We say goodbye to everyone and take off with Marley in the back seat.
It’s a long drive back to campus. This time nature’s sharp beauty isn’t enough to distract me from my brothers’ distrust.
Who am I kidding? I’m not thinking about my brothers.
All I can think about is this girl who Blake once loved.
Olivia.
Prescott Hall is takingpart in a volunteer effort on behalf of Whitney Briggs University where students take turns serving at a homeless shelter for the entire month. It’s a part of the Give Thanks—Give Back campaign running through November.
Blake and I have been hit or miss this week. We were together two more times, once on Sunday and again on Tuesday night when we ditched the movie we were going to see and hit the carriage house instead. I love being with Blake—physically being with Blake—our bodies merging as one, his laughter, his moans melting straight into my mouth with their vibratory approval. Blake and I are all smiles when we’re together. He makes me insanely happy. Why can’t that be enough for my brothers?
I catch a ride to the homeless shelter with Marley, and we discuss my evolving sex life all the way down—mostly at red lights when she can read my texts.
I hand her my phone as we park nearby the facility.
I’ll admit, Holt shook me off my foundation a bit with all that talk of ex-girlfriends. It didn’t help when Blake mentioned that he’d had his fair share of rock candy. I get it. He’s hot. He sings. Girls want him in their beds. He’s BEEN in their beds. Heck, I want him in mine. So the fact that he has a track record shouldn’t throw me for a loop. It’s just that I want to know that I’m doing okay in that department. I want to know that I don’t suck and that he’s not disappointed in my moves because, really, I don’t have any.
Marley openly laughs at the idea. “Are you kidding? That boy is in love with you.” She snatches the phone.Your moves are enough for him. More than enough. That boy is whipped.
My phone buzzes, and I take it back. It’s a text from Blake. “It’s him,” I whisper.
I’m off a little early. Want to get together? I can pick you up.
A dizzying grin takes over. I can’t believe I can get so giddy over a simple text. I love having a boyfriend far more than I ever thought I would. I love that my boyfriend just so happens to be the only one on the planet who has made my stomach squeeze tight. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that he only wants me.
