Chapter Fourteen
Blake
“W ell, look at that,” my dad mumbles. I lift my gaze from my phone to him, but he’s staring out the windshield with a small, surprised smile. Turning to see what he’s looking at, my breath catches when I find Adrian leaning against his car that’s parked next to mine. It’s his day off but that’s not what has my mouth going dry at the sight of him. I’ve never seen him out of scrubs or sweatpants, like when we ran into each other at the gym, but this is different.
He’s wearing a pair of gray jeans and a dark blue button down. His deep mahogany skin seems to glow under the morning sun. When he notices us pulling into the parking lot, he pushes up, giving us an adorably shy smile and runs a hand over the back of his neck, avoiding the soft curls on top.
Before my dad can turn the car off, I’m out and walking toward him. “What are you doing here?” I ask quietly, looking around like we might get caught doing something illicit.
“I thought I could help out today. You need a ride to the tire shop, right?”
“No,” I say as my dad’s walking up. “I’m going to borrow my dad’s car. He’ll help me get the tires off and put them back on.”
“I’ve got it,” he pushes. “I’ll get you coffee and if it takes a while, lunch too. I just don’t want to sit in my apartment all day.” He pouts a little and it’s pathetic, but somehow, he still looks happy.
I look at my dad, and to his credit he has a blank, yet friendly expression. I don’t get the feeling he was in on this, but it still feels slightly like an attack, and I’m on the defensive. I cross my arms. “I don’t need help, Adrian.”
“Let me help anyway,” he practically begs.
Defeated but not necessarily disappointed, I quietly ask, “Why?”
At that, my dad gives me a side hug and places a kiss on my temple. “Let me know if you need the keys.” I nod, and we watch as he walks into the clinic.
Once the door shuts behind him, Adrian answers, “I need a break from studying and thought I’d spend the day with a friend.” My brows furrow at his openness and his choice of words. With a smooth smile, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, leans back on his heels and adds, “Unless you want to be more than friends… You wouldn’t find me complaining.”
“Oh my God,” I mutter and look away, hoping that he can’t see the blood rushing to my cheeks from this angle.
His laugh tells me otherwise.
It’s been a while since I’ve kissed a boy and trust me, I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few weeks thinking about kissing this boy. I just don’t know if Adrian’s serious or not. I’ve never had a bad experience hooking up or dating, but none of them have been anything to write home about either. More than anything, I’m not interested in being another good time for someone.
Even if I’m positive that even a peck would be anything but mediocre when it came to Adrian.
“Please spend this beautiful Saturday with me. It’s not every day that I’m free from school and work,” he argues.
“You’re right. It’s not every day… just every Saturday.”
He chuckles and pushes forward without missing a beat. “Please, Blake, please .” With a quick once over and a mischievous glint in his eye he adds, “I’m not afraid to get on my knees and beg, if that’s what you want.”
Slightly more prepared for his flirting, I just roll my eyes and lightly shove his shoulder. “I guess I can write it off as charity.”
Chuckling, he gestures for my keys and opens the trunk. I watch as he takes one tire off and trades it for the spare, then he takes the other off but leaves it on the jack. He squats down and lifts both tires at the same time, one under each arm, and turns toward me with a content expression.
He’s been talking this entire time, and I couldn’t tell you a single thing he said. I mean the few seconds that his muscular forearms are flexing under the weight as he walks from my car to his SUV, has me so hot and bothered, I momentarily forget we’re supposed to be going somewhere.
Which means getting into his car.
And I have to move to do that.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I pull my eyes off of his body only to find him smirking at me. He looks all too pleased, and that simply won’t do.
With a saccharine smile, I tilt my head and say, “Sorry, I just wasn’t sure if a flaco like you could carry a tire—much less two.”
Walking to where I’m leaning against his car, he stops in front of me and looks down at me with unadulterated amusement shining through his dark eyes. “You can stare as much as you want, but don’t be a liar about it.”
With that, he opens the passenger door and watches as I climb in.
T he mechanic shop is packed. They did say they could probably get my tires fixed in between appointments. It isn’t ideal, but it’s better than having to come back before work tomorrow.
That’s one of the beauties of living in a small town—your dad saves the mechanic’s dog after he got a tennis ball lodged in his throat, and you’re given special treatment for years after.
But still, it’ll be at least three hours until they have a long enough lull to even glance at my tires… and that means I’m stuck with Adrian.
Okay, maybe stuck isn’t the right word. It’s not really a hardship.
Especially not when he stopped at Morning Drip, one of the food trucks at The Loop.
Or when we cross the street, and he puts his hand on the small of my back.
And the way he stretches his arms after laughing really hard is kinda cute too, like he lets the happiness completely overtake his entire being anytime he gets the chance to.
I wonder what that’s like. To be so comfortable in the good moments, never worrying about when the rug’s going to get pulled out from under you.
Even now, as I sit across from him in this little sandwich shop, he looks so content. We’ve barely spoken in the last ten minutes but it’s nice. The quiet’s always nice with Adrian.
Every few minutes I’ll catch him staring at me or he’ll find my gaze on him, but neither of us have called each other out yet. We just look away and fall into another round of this little game we’ve created.
It’s new, but spending time with Adrian has made that ever present ache in my chest lessen. I miss Margo and Meera more than I can explain, but I wouldn’t want them to be all alone in another state, and I know they don’t want that for me.
“What’s brewing in that head of yours, Storm Cloud?”
My head snaps in his direction, but instead of letting me chase his gaze, he holds mine. Choosing my usual tactic, deflection, I muse, “That nickname again.”
He smirks, already seeing past my walls. “You like it?”
Biting down on my lip, I try to ignore the flutter in my stomach because goddamnit, I do like it.
“You mean do I like being called chaotic and temperamental?” I tease.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No. Well, maybe sometimes .” I jokingly scoff. “But more like strong, alluring… refreshing.”
Refreshing. That word sticks out to me for some reason. I’ve never been described as the breath of fresh air for someone.
My face warms and there’s no stopping the butterflies now. “It’s typically ‘ Sunshine .’”
“I like rain better.” Speechless, my mouth drops open. “And it matches your eyes.”
Before I have to even think of a response our server drops off our sandwiches, thus putting me out of my awkward misery.
For like half a minute.
“That looks good,” Adrian leans forward looking at my Chef’s Club. His Monte Cristo sits untouched in front of him.
“Uh, thanks. Yours looks…” I grimace at the side of jelly. “Interesting.”
Leaning across to grab one of the halves of my sandwich, he takes a bite and nods appreciatively. I’m too stunned to say anything, but he’s lucky I come from a family that regularly picks off of each other’s plates. “Do you want to try mine?”
I snort. “No, thanks.”
“Come onnn,” he drags out. “It’s good.” He dips a corner into the jam and holds it out for me. “My whole day is riding on this moment.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab for the sandwich but he tsks and pulls it out of reach. “Try again,” he taunts.
He leans in closer and watches my mouth, waiting. I reach for it a second time, as he shakes his head. Dropping my hand, I wearily lean forward, and his smirk grows. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest, but I can play along in this game.
At least I want to play along.
Resting my elbows on the table, I place my chin into my hands and open my mouth. Taking a bite, I lean back, watching him watch me.
Doing my best to not have any reaction, I finish chewing as he takes a bite. “What did you think?” The glint in his eye makes me think he doesn’t mean the sandwich.
It doesn’t stop me from saying, “Disgusting.” Because the savory and sweet sandwich is disgusting. And for one second I feel real, gut wrenching dread at my quick response.
But Adrian just laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll pretend to believe you.”
Yeah, he was not talking about the food.