The staff at the spa had arranged our tables close to each other, so close I could run my fingers over her body. But I wouldn’t.I’m a gentleman, dammit. If this wasn’t our second date, though… “I could eat,” I repeated.
Her mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Good. Then, you’ll love my plans for dinner.” She blew me a kiss.
As the masseuse continued to lull me into a near-state of unconsciousness, I confessed, “I have to admit this is definitely something I haven’t done before.”
Her eyes lit up. “I knew it.”
“You did good.”
Her hooded gaze met mine again. “I’ll do better later.”
For much of our conversations, there had always been a hint of innuendo that could’ve been explained away easily. But tonight was different. Every interaction, every word spoken, seemed loaded, almost like a promise of more to come. “I’m looking forward to it. You owe me something, though.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Second-date conversation.”
Grinning, she sucked in a deep breath. “Really?”
“Yes.”
Both massage therapists finished up and left the room so that we could get dressed. Neither of us moved, though. We stayed there, eyes on each other.
Blake sat up. “It’s not a funny story.” She exhaled slowly. “When I was younger, my aunt’s then-boyfriend broke into her house and proceeded to beat her ass right in front of me and Bliss,” she explained. “I was so angry. I tried my best to protect her. I even held the door closed while she cowered in the bathtub. Me and my little nine-year-old self. The man busted through the door, of course, and continued his assault. And I couldn’t do anything to stop him.”
I sensed she wanted to tell the story uninterrupted so I stayed silent, even though the thought of her afraid but fiercely protective made me want to hunt the man down now.
“I was a child,” she continued, “but I knew it wasn’t right. Even then, I knew that wasn’t what a relationship was supposed to be. I wanted her to leave him alone.” She swallowed visibly, like the memory was just beneath the surface. “Only she didn’t. The next week, she was right back with him. And she stayed with him—after countless police reports, numerous side chicks. She lost everything. She was one of my first clients.”
“How old were you when she left him?”
“Maybe about twelve. I sat her down.” She let out a humorless chuckle. “And told her I couldn’t see her like this anymore.”
“She listened?” I asked.
“After a few trial runs, she finally walked away from him for the last time.”
When I’d asked the question, I thought she’d tell me a story about an ex-boyfriend or one of her sister’s boyfriends. Yet, as with everything I’d learned about her, nothing was like I’d expected. “Is that when you decided to become the Breakup Expert?”
Giggling, Blake said, “Actually, that nickname came about when I dumped a boy during morning recess for a girl in my class. My aunt’s situation made me want to study psychology. I settled on relationship therapy, not because of my parents, but because of her. In my opinion, the biggest relationship a person has is with themselves. I believe that’s why a lot of women stay when they know they should leave.”
My own relationship with Ayana flashed through my mind. There were many reasons why I’d stayed with her so long, and none of them made any sense now. “I get it.”
“You’re the first man I’ve ever shared that story with,” Blake admitted.
Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t usually show my ass—unless I’m in a sex-uation.” She stuck her tongue out, then cracked up. She slid off the table and bent down to pick up the extra sheet that had fallen to the floor. “Then, you can see it, spank it, fondle it.”
My gaze flew straight to that ass too. Because I definitely wanted to do all of the above—and more. “I guess that means I’m yourspecialfriend.”
Blake grinned. “Oh, God! Your mom is so sweet.”
I barked out a laugh. “I get that all the time, and I always tell people they didn’t live with her.” Paulette Cole was not one to be played with, and she’d made that very clear from the moment I could understand words and actions. “She liked you, though.”
With narrowed eyes, she asked, “How do you know?”
“She texted me.”
