Chapter Twenty-Four
Izzy
I scratched Goodyear’s head and watched Blake freak out.
Technically he was just standing beside me in the living room, holding his cat after injecting it with insulin. But he kept clenching his jaw and pulling at his shirt collar, and he hadn’t given me shit since we’d walked in.
In fact, he’d been incredibly polite to me.
“Do you want something to drink?” he’d asked. And then he followed it with “Let me know if you change your mind.”
What the hell did that even mean? It was totally freaking me out. Obviously, he was regretting our impetuous elevator liaison and trying to think of a gentle way to tell me that he was not at all interested in a sleepover.
“Y’know what?” he said, barely looking at me as he moved the cat out of my arm’s reach and onto the floor. “This shirt is driving me crazy. Bad detergent or something. I’m going to go change.”
“Okay,” I said, narrowing my eyes and watching as he nearly ran to his bedroom.
I literally felt queasy as I wondered what exactly was up with him. Did he not enjoy the elevator sex? Was I a bad elevator lay? Did he not respect me now? (If that was the case, screw him, but still—ouch.)
Was he nervous I was looking for a relationship?
I started pacing, and as I walked toward the big windows with the gorgeous view, I realized that it mattered too much to me. The why of his strange behavior felt like everything at once, like the world would end if he remained aloof and distant.
Dear God, I cared way too much about what he thought. No, no, no . Cared way too much and also felt mildly panicked at the thought of screwing things up with him.
Wait—was I in love with him?
Impossible.
I shook my head and muttered, “Nope,” into the empty living room. “More than friends” was light-years away from “in love,” and I was just getting confused because I hadn’t been “more than friends” with anybody in, like, an eternity.
I hadn’t known him long enough to know if he was worthy of sharing my favorite banana bread, much less my heart.
Nope. I was freaking out because he was the hottest person I’d ever been “more than friends” with, and that was it.
Just be cool, moron, and be casual .
Blake
I yanked my shirt off like it actually was the culprit, even though my irritation had nothing to do with the oxford. No, my irritation had to do with my conscience and the fact that I had to open that fucking email before I could move forward with Izzy.
As blissful as ignorance had been—seriously, it’d been a top-five fucking day—it couldn’t be my excuse.
Especially when Izzy had no idea that everything was likely about to change.
I grabbed a Henley from the closet, pulled it over my head, and as soon as my arms were through the sleeves, I grabbed the phone.
Time to take a look .
I opened the email, dread settling into my stomach. Somehow, I just knew it wasn’t going to be good. I clicked on the attachment, and—
“Can’t,” I muttered through gritted teeth, swiping out of the attachment before I had a chance to see it. I set the phone on my dresser face down and stepped away from it with my hands up like it was a loaded gun.
I knew looking at it was the right thing to do, but the part of me that wanted to fall asleep wrapped around Izzy wouldn’t let me. I was too drunk on her, too lost in every crinkle of her freckled nose, to give up the chance to finish the perfect day with a long, perfect night. It was lazy and selfish—I knew that—yet I wasn’t strong enough to stop myself.
I dragged a hand through my hair before opening the bedroom door and going back out into the living room.
“About time, bro,” Izzy said, and I was surprised to see her standing next to the door, looking down at her phone with her purse over her shoulder like she was waiting around to leave. She didn’t even look up when she said, “I think my grandma with arthritis changes faster than you.”
“Are you…leaving?” I asked, disappointment slamming into me.
“Yeah,” she said, finally looking at me. Her mouth turned up into a smart-ass grin that didn’t reach her eyes, and her nose didn’t crinkle. Still, she teased, “Our elevator workout made me sleepy, so now I must go crash. And the Darkling needs to be fed.”
I let my gaze move all over her, taking in every square inch that I’d hoped to explore. “Didn’t you feed him just before we left?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, absentmindedly rubbing a finger over her lower lip. “But, um, he eats a lot.”
“Ah.” I scrubbed a hand over the top of my hair. Apparently Izzy and I were feeling entirely different about the night. Noted. “Let me go grab my phone, and I’ll take you home.”
I went back in my room and slipped the phone into my pocket, but when I returned to the living room, Izzy was crouched down, petting both of my cats while talking to them in the sweetest voice.
That pinching feeling returned with so much force it nearly brought me to my knees, and I couldn’t stop myself from biting out the words “Holy shit, you are so fucking beautiful.”