Chapter Nineteen
Izzy
I pushed my hair out of my face and had no idea what to say.
Shiiiiiiiit.
Had I seriously just attacked Blake without his consent? Seriously?! He calmly sat down beside me on the sofa, like I hadn’t just behaved like a maniac, and I wondered what time it was.
And what the hell had just happened.
One minute, I’d been having a sexy dream about him. He’d been kissing me—the world’s hottest kiss, for the record—and in my dream, he’d said my name in a total sex voice.
But then I’d opened my eyes and he was there, leaning over the couch, looking down at me with those unreadable dark eyes as I freaking clawed at his chest like… shit… like some aggressive animal with claws that I couldn’t name because my brain was no longer functioning.
I wanted to die of embarrassment.
“I was having a dream, and it was super realistic,” I blurted out, not expecting him to believe me but desperate to convince him. I didn’t want to lose him, so I had to make him understand that nothing had changed between us.
His jaw was hard, his eyes intensely on me as I said, “I don’t know how you got here, but somehow my brain thought your presence was part of the dream. I kissed you, but I was kissing someone else in my dream, I swear. Please believe me that I would never, ever make a move on you.”
He didn’t say anything, just swallowed, and I knew I’d ruined everything.
“Come on, Blake—say something. Tell me that you aren’t mad, or grossed out, or, God—that I didn’t make you feel violated. This was just a very real, very bizarre mistake, a misunderstanding of epic proportions, and things with us are technically no different than they were last night when we watched Top Chef together on FaceTime.”
“Izzy.”
“I meant it when I agreed with you that we’re both adults and can control ourselves, and this random moment of macking was entirely the fault of my unconsciousness.”
He looked at me for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and I hated that I’d caused that serious expression on his face. I cleared my throat and said, “If I could take it back, I would. I swear it—”
“Who was it?” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Who were you kissing in the dream?” He almost looked pissed. There was an ego blow somewhere in there, tied up in his very unhappy response to my pawing, but I was choosing to ignore it.
He was watching me, waiting for the answer, and I knew everything would be rectified if I could just spew out a name. Think, think, think. But just like that, every name on the planet was erased from my mind. Well, every name except Ronald McDonald, but that wouldn’t work. I cleared my throat and said, “You don’t, um, you don’t know him.”
I rolled my eyes at myself.
“But you do?” he asked.
I sat up straighter on the couch and turned so I was facing him. “He’s just a celebrity. No big—”
He tilted his head. “Which celebrity?”
“You’re going to make me say it?” I asked, wanting off the hook but also wanting to kiss his ass into forgetting what just happened.
“Say it.”
“You want a name?” I stalled. “You want me to say his name?”
“Name him, Shay.”
I groaned. “Come on, Phillips.”
“If you don’t tell me his name—”
“Fine. Tom Colicchio!” I nearly shouted it, and then I crossed my arms over my chest. Nodded my head and said, “Yes, I was kissing the Top Chef.”
“Tom Colicchio.” He gave me a look that told me he knew I was lying.
So I nodded again, doubling down. Rubbed my lips together and added, “I guess you could say we were having our own little quick fire.”
“Are you ready?”
“What?”
He stood, and I noticed he didn’t look mad anymore. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the display. “I’m starving, so I thought we could drive through Bruegger’s when I take you home. Bagels sound good?”
He was sure in a hurry to get me out of his apartment. I nodded, but couldn’t stop myself from saying, “So we’re okay?”
“Of course.” He put the phone back and held out a hand to help me up.
“Thank God.” I grabbed his hand and let him pull me to my feet, but every cell in my body ceased to exist except for those in my fingers. His big, warm hand swallowed mine, and the slide of his hot skin on mine was electric and sexual and— shit.
It made me literally look down at our hands before quickly letting go.
Dear God.
“But, Iz?”
“Yeah?” I shook out my fingers at my side.
“The way you kissed Tom Colicchio,” he said, his dark eyes hot, “was fucking sinful.”
···
“Dude, come on. ” Josh held his arms out at his sides before letting loose with a high kick. “That seems like bullshit. Like a flimsy-ass reason for you both to be alone with each other.”
I ducked my head as my cousin swung his leg around. I was sitting in the grass of our front yard while Josh and six of his friends practiced some sort of martial arts–yoga–stretching thing. They were all silent as they meticulously followed the leader’s movements, so I took the opportunity to sit beside him and tell him my entire situation.
Captive audience and all that.
“I know it sounds that way, but it actually isn’t,” I explained. “He’s this, like, bigwig who totally believes in the values and ethics that go along with his role. He would never get involved with someone who reports to him, because it’s wrong. ”
“Is he religious?”
“No—I mean, I don’t think so. I think he’s just a good human.”
“Well, if it’s that perfect between you two,” the guy to my right said, hissing out his words as he slowly lowered to a squat-like lunge, “why don’t you just find another job somewhere else?”
“Butt out, Stan,” Josh said, raising his left leg and rotating it. “She shouldn’t have to quit.”
“But if she’s still new to the company, it makes sense,” Stan muttered, giving me a know-it-all look.
“But if she’s still new to the company,” Josh replied, also lowering his body toward the ground, “she needs this huge opportunity more than he does, right?”
I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. “You guys just did a great job of getting to the heart of it. But you missed the finer point.”
“We did?” Stan asked, his limbs shaking as he held his pose.
“What did we miss?” Josh said, letting out a long, quiet groan as the sun reflected off his forehead.
“If I were to quit my job, which I totally don’t want to do because I love it and it seems like it holds so much potential, what would that say to Blake?” I pictured his face as he’d leaned over me on the couch, and I sighed. “Wouldn’t it seem desperate, that I’m willing to quit my job for him even though we’ve never even gone on a date?”
“No,” Josh said, at the exact minute Stan said, “Yeah, totally.”
I gave Josh a look, which made him point at his friend and say, “No one ever listens to him. Stan’s always wrong.”
Stan raised his eyebrows, giving me a long, meaningful look.
Stan is right.
“Can I steal your I-swear-it-was-a-dream move, by the way?” the group leader asked, smiling as he effortlessly held his leg up against his ear like he was a Rockette. “Sounds like a patented Roy move.”
“Who’s Roy?” I asked.
“He is,” Josh said, pointing at the leader.
“Shut the fuck up and breathe, Roy,” Stan said before doing what appeared to be the splits.