Page 71 of Flirting with 40

“There’s that word again.” He puts the key in the lock, twists, and then pushes the door open.

He turns to face me, the light inside haloing around his silhouette. There are so many things about him in this moment that hit me like a sucker punch in the gut, and I struggle with words as I try to fathom how this all happened so quickly—the bar, the napkin to-do list, him, and my growing feelings for him.

But I don’t have an answer.

It isn’t possible.

A lopsided smile slides onto his lips. “Don’t look now, Blakely,” he whispers as if we’re the only two people left on earth. “But you might just be figuring out how to howl at the moon.”

As I watch him watch me, I try to figure out if I should be annoyed with him for pushing my limits like he did tonight or love him for it. Our eyes hold across the short distance, nature a symphony in the night around us, as his grin widens and taunts.

With a pretend howl, which likely sounds pathetic, I launch myself at him. Lips and hands and bodies collide, as I jump into his arms.

He stumbles backward, caught off guard, but his laughter rings out as he kicks the door closed behind us.

Our laughter turns into moans.

Our fantasies meld into reality.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Blakely

As I walk back from the camp showers, my hair is wet, parts of me are unabashedly sore, and I’m so not wanting to leave my laughter with Slade for my misery with Heather.

But it isn’t as if I have a choice.

I clomp up the steps with my shower stuff clutched in my hand and smile when I see the napkin taped to the door.

Blade’s To-Do List:

Make Paul regret he ever let you go.

Figure out our history: when we met, how long your legs really are, pet peeves, etc.

Make Horrible Heather see you differently.

Win your co-workers over by being fucking awesome.

Convince everyone we are madly in love and meant to be.

Get the promotion.

Find the real Blakely again.

Fall hopelessly in love.

I study the list and laugh at his half crossed off items. When I go to open the door, though, it’s locked.

“Hey,” I say and knock on it. “Open up.”

“Not until you give me the secret code,” he says from behind the slab.

I hang my head and bite back my grin. “Funny. C’mon, I need to get ready so I’m not late today.”

“You have plenty of time.”

“Open the door, Slade.”