“I’m coming in.”
The weak light streaming in through the hallway banister illuminates his damp face as he shrieks away from the light,trying to hide himself from my sight. I slip into the small room, closing the door behind me and fidgeting with the lights. For a reason I don’t know but am grateful for, there’s a dim setting.
“Oh, honey.”
No one can hear us, but this isn’t about them. It’s about Blake, retching his guts out, still trying to shield me from the sight. My fingers trace circles on his back out of instinct—it’s something my mother likes to do, and I guess the habit has passed down to me.
Blake groans. An awful, guttural sound filled with suffering, and I start humming if only to make him less self-conscious about the noise he’s making. I’m not known to hold a tune, and it’s a far cry from the original, but in the end my cover ofHere Comes The Sunseems to calm him a little.
“Keep going,please.”
I drag my fingers along his spine until I’m met with his soft brown curls, focusing on that instead of the aching in my knee from the hard tile. “Any requests? I suggest you stay far away from Celine Dion, lest you want to feel even worse.”
He barely has time to shake his head, but I don’t need an answer. I caught a glimpse of his playlists on the drive here, and they had enough in common for me to know exactly what he likes. And so, as softly as I can get away with while still being audible, I start singingI’m On Fire.If good ol’ Bruce can’t make him feel better, nothing will.
Normally I would never, ever sing in public, but Blake is in no shape to make fun of me. And if he tries? Well, let’s just say I know the lyrics toMy Heart Will Go Onby heart.
Blake slumps against the wall and without a word his trembling hand finds my thigh for comfort. I stare at it in wonder. His hand, massive compared to mine, makes me look tiny despite being 5’11”. Stranger still, he touched me withoutthinking, and I didn’t feel a hint of fear. In fact, it feels almost natural to be touched by Blake and to touch him in return.
It’s a good thing. It means we are comfortable with each other, at a deeper level. Like good friends. That will make it so much easier to trick everyone into thinking we’re in love.
“That shouldnothave worked.” Blake lifts the hem of his navy blue shirt to wipe his face with a groan, though he makes no effort to hover above the toilet bowl.Progress. I wet a few sheets of toilet paper in place of a cloth and settle back down beside him, gently cleaning the sweat off his skin.
“You’re right, it shouldn’t have. Not even a little. But it did.”
He rests his head against the cold tile with a smile and closes his eyes. In this moment of reprieve, I search my purse for the anti-nausea pills I know are hidden in there somewhere and stuff them into his palm.
“Take these, they’ll make you feel better. There’s no glass for water, but maybe if you?—”
Before I can finish my sentence he’s tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed. I shudder at the sight, almost feeling the dryness of those pills going down my throat. “You raw-dog your pills? You’re such a weirdo.”
“You’re the one who followed me into the bathroom. You can’t judge a person for what they do here. It’s in the constitution.” His strong arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer before resting his forehead against my temple, his breath tickling my ear.
“You’re so soft.” He brushes his lips against my skin. “Always so fucking soft. Drives me insane.”
I laugh—drunk people say the strangest things. “It’s a peach-scented body lotion. Got it at a two-for-one sale.”
His breath tickles my skin as he sniffs his way to my throat, the tickling sensation making me laugh again. “Smells like god-damn heaven. Can I eat it?”
“Nope.”
“Can I eat you?” His face is barely an inch from mine, the look in his eyes revealing his every thought. His gaze flits to my lips, and if I’m lucky he won’t notice the wildfire on my cheeks.
“You—what?”
Blake brushes a loose lock from my face, allowing me to see the lust in his gaze when he says, “I’ve been dying to taste you since the moment I first saw you years ago. I can make you feel so fucking good, Alexis. You just have to let me.”
The low tone of his voice sends a wave of longing to the lowest part of my belly and I bite my lip to keep myself in check. I might be unable to bring myself to orgasm, but I have no doubt in my mind that Blake can get me there. I doubt it would even take any effort on his part; I’ve burned for him in secret for so long that seeing him naked might be my undoing, though I’d never deny myself the chance to be touched by him.
But this isn’t sober Blake talking. Sober Blake doesn’t even want to kiss me, let alone fuck me. If there’s one thing I know for sure is that drunk Blake is lying his cute butt off.
“Is that so?” I ask. “Because I’m thinking you’re full of it. Drunk Blake is saying things sober Blake doesn’t think about.”
A low chuckle leaves his throat, his lips brushing against my neck with an intoxicating gentleness. “Oh, trust me, Sunshine. I think about you plenty.”
He kisses my neck. “In bed.”
“In the kitchen.” His tongue traces an agonizing pattern over the curl of my ear. Another kiss, on my temple this time, his voice but a whisper in my ear. “In the shower.”
