Chapter Fifteen
Adrian
A fter lunch, Blake and I are walking around the small shopping area, still waiting for the mechanic to call her back.
Not that I’m complaining. Not at all.
Today has been the best day I’ve had since moving out here. Months before that even. Everything we’re doing is mundane and an inconvenience to her I’m sure, but I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. I wish I could take Blake with me on all of my errands. It doesn’t matter that she tries to hide her smiles or responds mostly with snark and sarcasm—fuck, I love those things. It’s all just more fun with her.
Even though we’re just outside of Amada Beach, closer to the upper-class neighborhood Aurora Hills, she knows the area and a few of the locals so we stop in at some of the shops. It’s a surprise if we don’t leave with something that one of the shop owners insists she takes, no charge. Homemade sea salt and lavender soap. Popcorn with chocolate drizzled on top—her favorite I learned. Fresh fruit cups with chamoy and tajin . A pair of clay earrings, and a matching set for her mom. We each got an iced tea plus a small batch of leaves in the mixture her dad loves. Even the owner of Wearing Sunsets , a middle-aged Black woman with waist-length braids and a warm smile that reminds me of my mom, insists that Blake take a cute octopus onesie for her brother’s baby that’s due in just a few weeks.
I knew Blake’s family was popular around Amada Beach. It’s obvious from the interactions I’ve caught between her and some of the pet owners. Hell, even Polly loves Blake, but they have their own… thing going on. Who am I to interfere between two grumpy ladies? My mom definitely taught me better than that. But this goes so much further than just growing up in a small community or having outgoing parents. This is Blake not only spending her life here, but her putting herself out there and being an essential part of so many people’s lives.
I’ve seen this side of her every day we work together, but I get the impression it’s another part of Blake that she underestimates about herself.
Part of me thinks that Blake’s naturally introverted and isn’t interested in meaningless socializing. Although that doesn’t feel quite accurate. She clings to conversations and key details about a person, but she never initiates those moments either. She just waits for them to find her.
It feels wrong to say for someone as resolute as Blake, except I think she’s scared .
More than anything, it was the look on Selena’s face last night when Blake said she had two flats. I didn’t understand it at first, I just couldn’t let it go either. It was fierce and protective in a way only a mom can be, even if it seemed like a bigger reaction than necessary, especially after learning how easy-going Selena is. She doesn’t take much seriously it seems, except for that.
I consider asking Blake more about it, when I glance down, and any thoughts other than ‘pretty girl’ leave my head immediately.
She’s walking next to me with a small smile on her lips as she ties her long, raven hair up in a messy bun. I watch as she gathers the strands, trying to catch all of them with a sweep of her hands along her neck. And I can’t help but wish that it were my hands running up her neck, tangling into her hair. How easy it would be to fist the silky locks and pull her into the perfect position to take her plump pink lips with my own.
That’s another thought that has been plaguing me over the last few weeks. One that makes a naughty appearance at the most inappropriate times… like this morning in the shower.
She ties her hair into a knot, and I notice that the scrunchie she’s using is bright pink—a total contradiction to her baby blue and white outfit—but it’s a cute quirk I’ve noticed of hers over the last few weeks. Her hair tie never matches her outfit, almost like it’s intentional on her part.
When she catches me staring, her skin flushes and she pulls on the sleeves of her crewneck. “What are you looking at?”
And suddenly I decide today is not the day I want to bring up any of those questions about her past, and why her mom was so worried yesterday. I just want to enjoy today with her. Maybe I can worm my way so far into her life that she opens up to me without me having to ask. I just have to show Blake that I’m here for her, in whatever way she wants.
“You,” I tease.
“Well, stop,” she mutters looking aside, and I don’t miss the way her lips curve up just the slightest bit more. “I didn’t think it’d be so hot today.” It is warm for this time of the year, and she’s wearing a thick Nike crewneck but otherwise, she’s in a short fucking tennis skirt and sneakers. It’s somehow sexy and innocent at the same time, which is extremely fitting for her. She notices me staring at her smooth pale legs and squirms under the attention. “I get warm easily, especially when I’m nervous.” Her head flies up and she gapes at me for a second, trying to recover. I do my best not to smile but I’m sure it isn’t a great attempt. “Or when my feet are covered,” she adds quickly. I scrunch my eyebrows and let her word-vomit all over us—another quirk I’ve picked up on quickly .
“I’m serious. I can’t sleep with my feet covered, and I hate the winter if only because I can’t wear sandals. I also kinda hate working at the vet clinic because of that. That’s not the only reason, as you know,” she nods in my direction but won’t look up. I do know. There’s a lot of aspects of the job that aren’t easy for Blake, like everything going on with Lela and Chispa .
There are parts of the job she’s great at though. I’ve heard her talk to her dad a few times about different scheduling and filing software he should look into. Apparently, it’s been damn near a decade since he made any changes to those things. For all of Tim’s best traits, I could definitely see the middle-aged man getting stuck where he’s comfortable. Not only that, according to Olivia, Lela’s situation wasn’t the first time Blake’s offered to help a family understand things like pet insurance and which brands of foods are the best.
Blake has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen in a person, even though she tries to hide it from the world. I don’t know if it’s even possible to keep such an integral part of oneself a secret—especially when it brings so much light to people’s lives.
So Blake might not want to work around animals, but she was made to help people. She’s resourceful, organized, and innovative. However, that’s something Blake needs to come to on her own, and there are so many paths it could manifest. Sometimes I have to remind myself she’s only eighteen. In some aspects, she’s wise beyond her years and tolerant in a way that isn’t always born into someone—rather, one that suggests she had to learn how to be. Other times, she’s so much of the young woman that is her age.
I remember that contradictory feeling of having all the time in the world and needing to figure out your entire life right at that moment. I see that in Blake a lot.
Pulling me from my thoughts, her rambling continues. “Sometimes even just the thought of putting socks on is abhorrent. Especially in a humid environment like this? Ew.” She waves one hand in the air next to her head. She’s still going, spewing out whatever thought works into her mind next. Usually, she goes for teasing when she feels flustered, but this is almost like she’s trying to put as many words as possible between ‘when I’m nervous’ and whatever I say next. She’s not getting off that easily today, though.
“Are you nervous?” I ask as I take another step toward her. She takes one back and I follow, crowding her against the brick wall of the little candy shop we’re standing outside of.
“Uh, no,” she murmurs, her eyes wide and glued on mine. I move one of my hands to lay on the wall near her hips and lean down toward her. I’ve never been this bold with Blake before. Not because I haven’t wanted to, but I know that the animal clinic isn’t the right place either. With more confidence, she doubles down and says, “It’s the sneakers.”
I laugh. “The socks, too, right?”
She swallows and nods. “Right. The socks.” Then she gives her head a little shake, like she can’t believe she said that.
Chuckling, I brush my cheek against hers, whispering in her ear. “You make me nervous too, Storm Cloud.”
She lets out an almost inaudible scoff and shoves my shoulder, without enough force to push me further away. “Don’t make fun of me,” she says quietly. When I lean back she’s looking at me with an uncertain expression, like she doesn’t believe what I’m saying.
“I would never,” I promise her. She shrugs and tries to look away, but I gently grab her jaw, pulling her captivating gray eyes back to me. “Blake, I swear, I would never make fun of you. I may like teasing you a bit,” I add with a smile, “but not like that .” Not wanting to overwhelm her, I take a step back, catching the flash of disappointment that flits across her face when my hand drops.
We stand there staring at each other for a long moment, only inches apart. Blake is leaning against the wall, with her ankles crossed and hands twisting in front of her skirt, her eyes assessing me the entire time. I stand in front of her, my hands in my pockets now, mostly to stop me from grabbing for her, and I look back at her. I try to wear all of my emotions for her, not wanting to hide anything from Blake.
I want her to trust me. Yeah, with her secrets and quirks, but with more than that. I want Blake to trust me with her. I want her to be comfortable and sure in my presence. For her to hear my words and trust that I always mean everything that I’m saying. I’d never lie to her or try to deceive her.
I don’t get the impression Blake is very forgiving, or that people in her past gave her any reasons to learn to be.
So, I let Blake take me in and make a silent oath to prove to her that everything will be different with me. I’m not sure how, since I don’t know what has happened to her, but I know that it will be.
As I’m about to say something—anything to break the tension—a Monarch butterfly flits through the air between us. They’re common in the area, but I can’t think of a time when one got so close to me.
On the other hand, Blake doesn’t look surprised by our fleeting guest. If anything, her expression softens, and she looks up at me with more surety than a few seconds ago.
Giving me a small nod, she straightens up in front of me and takes a deep breath. I don’t say anything, just letting her come back to the day together when she’s ready.
Pretty girl, always so stuck in that head of yours.
Shyly, she looks away and breaks the silence first. “Let’s go into the candy shop. It’s my second favorite in town.”
I jerk my chin toward the entrance and place my hand on the small of her back, like I’ve done a few times today.
Except this time, she leans into me. Not a lot—just enough for our hips to brush with each step and the wispy stray hairs to tickle my upper arm—but it’s enough. More than that, it’s progress.
“A re you sure?”
I hand the cashier my card and give her a questioning look. “What?”
The candy store Gumdrops & Giggles is like something out of Willy Wonka. There are rows and rows of jars full of gummies, licorice, taffies, suckers, and anything else you can think of. There’s a small ‘Build Your Own Brownie’ station that reminds me of a giant Easy Bake Oven. On another wall there are hundreds of options of lollipops. Not to mention the small counter in the back that looks like it’s set up for different pop-ups to come through. Today, there’s an ice cream stand.
As soon as we made our way to the back of the store and Blake saw it, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward it. Apparently, it’s ‘ exactly what she needed.’ You know, after the coffee, lunch, and five other things that have been fed to us since we started to walk around.
I’m really just impressed that she can put down so much food in only a few hours. It’s weirdly endearing to watch too.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” She licks her spoon clean then uses it to point to my cup of butter pecan with caramel and green apple slices. “That’s for old people,” Blake teases.
“You got pistachio. How is that any better?”
“Yeah, with chocolate chips, whipped cream, and sprinkles. That’s fun, dude.”
“And I got salted caramel,” I shrug and take another bite.
“Yeah, with green apples.” She subconsciously reaches up and brushes her thumb along my lower lip. If that wasn’t enough to make my brain shut down, she follows up by slowly sucking the caramel off of her thumb, making my dick twitch in response. Without missing a beat, she continues, “Objectively the worst fruit in the world.”
When I don’t respond after a few seconds, she turns around to find me frozen in place. My brain is still trying to catch up with my body.
Considering that most of the blood instantly moved south, that might be why I’m mentally lagging.
As if she realizes what she just did, her mouth falls open and she stares at me with those sweet doe eyes. “Oh—I—I didn’t…” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry ,” she blurts out.
Cocking my head, I take a step toward her and gently slip my hand around her waist. “Was it good?” My voice is huskier than I mean for it to be, but I don’t want to hide what she’s doing to me either. I think it’s important that Blake realizes the effect she has on people… on men… on me . I only care that she sees what she does to me . And how fucking badly I want more.
“It was good.” It’s a breathless whisper, pink tinting her cheeks and her stormy eyes growing darker but also more uncertain. “I like caramel well enough.”
“At least it wasn’t a waste then,” I smirk. Glancing down to her cup, I take a slow step forward, seeing if she’s going to run. When she doesn’t, I lean down. “You tried mine, now I wanna try yours.” She sucks in a sharp breath.
“I think the saying is ‘you showed me yours.’” I raise my eyebrow and give her an irreverent shrug that says something along the lines of, if you insist. “Oh shut up,” she mutters. Refusing to look me in the eye, she lifts her spoon and holds it out for me. Keeping one hand firmly on her waist and the other in my pocket, I ignore the handle and wrap my lips around the curved end. Slowly, she pulls the spoon from my mouth, and I can feel her chest rising and falling in a shallow rhythm as she watches me clean the spoon then my lips.
“Mmmm,” I nod in acknowledgment. “Not bad.”
“Um, you liked it?” She’s flustered and I’m half hard.
“Yeah, Storm Cloud, I liked it.” Slipping my arm from her waist to her shoulders, I tuck her under my arm and whisper in her ear, “I like everything you give me.”
Her lean tilts back as she looks up at me, falling into step beside me. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. ” I grab her spoon and lift it to my mouth again, stealing another bite. “Now let’s go check on your tires.”