“Hayden, if you want to have another drink, we can all get a car home together. One of us can bring you back down tomorrow,” Blake says.
Caroline looks up at him, shocked. “You didn’t drive the Beamer down here?”
“No,” he says, shooting her a guilty smile.
“I am not riding on your death trap. For the love of God, Blake, I have a skirt on.”
“I’m guessing you rode a motorcycle here?” I say.
“A Triumph,” is how he answers. Of course it’s a Triumph. This guy is getting better by the second. I want to volunteer as tribute, like straight out of The Hunger Games, but I keep my mouth shut. Anyway, I’m still a bit baffled by Blake and Caroline’s relationship.
“Sure, I’ll have a drink. We can all split an Uber, if you guys want,” I say, trying to make everyone happy.
“I’m just gonna have one beer,” Blake says. “I can drive us all home in your car, Hayden? If that’s okay with you?” Before I can answer, he looks to Caroline and says, “I’ll just leave my bike at Charlie’s and run back down here.”
Caroline nods. I keep my car pretty clean in case I have to drive around clients, but I momentarily panic for a moment and go through a mental checklist: Are there fast food containers littering the floorboards? Does it smell like my gym clothes? Oh, God, those ballet flats in my trunk stink to high heaven.
“That sounds good,” I finally say, because regardless of what smells might exist there, the idea of Blake driving my car excites me, for some reason.
“Sweet. I’ll get you ladies some wine then run my bike up,” he says before strutting off to the bar.
As soon as he’s gone, Caroline starts complaining. “He knows I hate that motorcycle.”
“Why do you hate it?”
She opens her eyes wide as if it should be obvious. “Because he loves it.”
Uh, that is not the answer I was expecting. “Who is Charlie?” I ask.
“He’s a friend of Blake’s from art school. I think he was with him tonight. I’m not sure.”
I find it odd that she doesn’t know where Blake was earlier. Maybe they’re the kind of couple that doesn’t keep constant tabs on each other, which actually sounds pretty healthy to me. “Why did Blake clam up about the Hampton summers?”
“I think it makes him sad. His mom died in our vacation house there,” she says.
“Oh, no. Of what?”
“She had ovarian cancer and it spread fast. She raised Blake on her own—he was really close to her. He doesn’t have any siblings so we’re kind of it for him.”
I think she means her family. It must be a complicated relationship. “When did she pass away?”
“Two years ago. Shh, here he comes. We don’t like to talk about it. I hate when he’s sad.”
Caroline and Blake seem to care for each other, but they’re so different. Like I said, I know not to judge a book by its cover, but this isn’t about looks. It’s something else. They act almost like brother and sister—there’s been no sense of romantic affection between them so far.
Blake hands us our glasses of wine, then leaves to take his bike to his friend’s place and is somehow back in less than five minutes. There’s a glowing sheen from sweat on his skin. I imagine licking his jawline. Geez, I’m really losing it. I shake the thought away.
“So you two started dating in high school and now you work together?” I say, once Blake is sitting in the booth again. As Caroline sits there, sipping her wine, Blake and I continue chatting. This time he doesn’t have his arm around Caroline. He’s leaning over the table. His body language is telling me he’s interested in talking to me.
“Yeah, since about junior year,” he says. “Do you have a boyfriend, Hayden?”
I notice a faint scowl appear on Caroline’s face. Bit of a weird question.
“No,” I reply.
“I have a lot of friends who live in Decatur.” He grins, genuine and sweet, a tiny dimple playing on one cheek. He wants to set me up, which means he thinks…oh, my hormones…is he actually flirting with me? No, of course not, he’s trying to set the poor, sad single girl up. He’s just being nice. Settle down, Hayden.
“He does have a lot of friends by you,” Caroline adds. “He’s always hanging out over there.”
