Page 78 of Flirting with 40

Needing to wrap my own thoughts around my own admissions.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Blakely

You’re right.

Holy shit. Is that how people see me?

Wait. Come back.

All of those would have been reasonable responses to Slade to get him to stay.

But I didn’t say any of them.

Not a single damn word. All I did was sit there angry at him for being so brutally honest, rejecting the things he said instead of owning them.

Just you, Blakely.

All those truths kept ringing in my ears, overshadowing some of the more major ones he said.

I like you, and I’m not quite sure what to do about it because this isn’t like me.

I let him walk out when I should have called after him.

I’m supposed to be finding myself, and every time I really need to be the new me, I can’t seem to summon her.

Like how in the middle of his rant, the new me just wanted to grab him and kiss him senseless. The problem was the old me was scared to death to do so because it’s so out of my norm to take what I want.

And, oh, how I wanted.

So here I sit, second-guessing my actions and frustrated that I am.

There are a million ways the conversation could have gone had I spoken up instead of letting him walk away. Like I could have told him he was absolutely right and that I’m trying hard to to find the Blakely Foxx he is telling me he sees hiding.

“You okay? You seem a little preoccupied.”

I look over to Gemma and smile as I run the paddle of the canoe through the water. “I’m fine. Sorry I’m so quiet. I was just rehashing a conversation in my head. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Rehashing because you’re thinking of all of the things you should have said or rehashing because you gave as good as you got and you’re proud of yourself for it?” She quirks a lone eyebrow above the line of her sunglasses. “I’m typically in the former camp.”

“Yep. Me too.” I laugh. “And yes, that’s exactly what I was doing. Thinking of the million things I should have said instead of the giant nothing I did say.”

“Should I assume you’re talking about Heather?” she asks, lowering her voice and glancing around even though the closest canoe is over a hundred feet away.

I wasn’t, but if the shoe fits.

“I think that’s how I feel after every conversation with her.” I chuckle and rest the paddle across my lap.

“I should have spoken up when she said that to you this morning. About the bear.”

“I can fight my own battles, but thank you for the thought,” I say.

“Bears scare me too.” She laughs nervously. “Just like Heather does.”

Now she has my undivided attention, but I tread carefully. “All bosses are a little intimidating.”

“You aren’t.”