Chapter Thirty
Blake
A drian tried to insist on carrying me to his car, but I assured him that I could make it there myself; with the help of him holding my waist. At least my foot was on the ground. Truthfully, I would’ve loved for him to fireman-carry me again.
Just not in front of the mother I babysit for.
It’s been an embarrassing enough night at that house.
Though without an audience, I don’t fight him when he gently lifts me off the ground by my waist and sets me into the passenger seat. For the fifth time since he found me on the shed floor, he leans over and places a kiss on my temple. “You good?”
I nod, kind of in a trance as he towers over me while carefully tucking my legs into the car. One of his hands slides up my calf before settling on the seat next to me. The position pulls him even closer to me.
“What do you want, Blake? Do you want me to take you home?” There’s a shadow that crosses his gaze when he offers that. I know he would. He’s always going out of his way to make sure I’m as comfortable as possible.
But I get the feeling he doesn’t want to go our separate ways yet. And neither do I.
Slowly, I shake my head and whisper, “No. For once, I really don’t want to go to my house.”
I bite my lip, hoping he picks up my unspoken meaning here. From the way his eyes are glued to my lower lip as it flicks out from my teeth, I’d say he understands.
“How about we pick up dinner from The Loop and we can watch a movie at my place?”
Nodding, I gather my waning courage as the nerves kick in and lean forward. My lips brush his in a soft promise of what’s to come.
Not only tonight—but for us .
A s Adrian sets me down on his couch—I let him carry me this time—I slowly take in his studio apartment. I’m also silently cursing myself for being too hurt to snoop around while he runs out to get my bag and our food.
It’s more or less what I would’ve expected, I think. There doesn’t seem to be a thought-out aesthetic, but much like Adrian’s entire personality, it feels naturally put together. He really doesn’t have to think twice about it.
The couch I was placed on is dark brown leather. It isn’t stiff and uncomfortable like I often feel the fabric can be. There’s even a light gray blanket hanging over the side.
Without thinking, I pull it across my lap and continue taking in the small space. It’s tidy, with only a few textbooks thrown around and a coffee cup left on his coffee table. That’s not surprising though. It would actually be alarming if Adrian was a messy person. It doesn’t fit the personality I’ve gotten to know so far.
The door opening pulls me out of my curiosity just in time to catch the small, smug grin on Adrian’s lips when he sees me sitting here. It’s gone in two seconds at most, but it lights a fire in me. One that settles low in my stomach.
He walks over and hands me the remote. “I’ll get our food.”
“Um,” I blurt out, trying to stop him and buy a couple seconds of time. He turns back, concern quickly morphing into intrigue. “Or we could eat later. I’m okay right now if you are.”
He tilts his head, assessing me for a moment. With an easy shrug, he moves toward the freezer. “I’m good for now.” I quickly realize he’s getting ice for my ankle, but he doesn’t come back to the couch until he has a stack of pillows.
I can’t fight the smile, especially when he grins at me like there is nothing else he’d rather be doing.
When he moves to set the pillows on the coffee table, allowing me to stretch out better, I pull my ankle away, trying to hide my wince of pain.
“ Blake ,” he chastises, yet when I look back at him, all I see is pain on his face.
“I’m okay,” I promise. “I just know I’ll be uncomfortable sitting like that.”
It’s not a lie. This isn’t my first twisted ankle. Even as a swimmer, I had a lot of conditioning out of the water. Except I would be lying if I said I didn’t have ulterior motives.
He doesn’t say anything, just watches, as I twist my body, so my feet are at one end of the couch. Moving the pillows for me, he sits back and watches me.
“What are you doing?” he finally asks when I don’t lean back.
Per usual, I lose my bravado. Gesturing behind me, I hope he gets the point. I’m almost positive he does but is playing dumb when he lifts one eyebrow in response.
“Sit with me?” My voice is small and vulnerable, even to my own ears. Anytime I’m with Adrian, my walls fall inch by inch.
Without any more hesitation, he moves behind me. The couch isn’t very long. Fortunately the seating cushions are wide enough that with some awkward twisting and stretching—mostly on my part—he leans back so I’m between his legs and gently pulls me into his chest.
Taken by surprise, I relax against him after a moment. “How’s this?”
“Better,” I agree.
He scrolls through Netflix, and I fix the small blanket across our laps. It doesn’t take long before we agree on something, though I’m not paying much attention anyway.
It’s basically impossible when all I can focus on is the strong arms, warm musk, and the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.
At some point, I must have dozed off because I wake up sprawled on my side, with my bad foot still propped up. Adrian’s hand is gripping my thigh. It’s not hard, but the way his knee is also bent underneath holding it up, I’d bet it’s his doing that it’s still where it needs to be.
The other clue that I fell asleep is that Adrian’s now watching football highlights from the college games earlier today.
“I didn’t know you liked sports,” I murmur against his chest, rubbing the sleep out of my eye.
He laughs quietly. “Just because I never played sports, doesn’t mean I don’t like them. My dad went to college on a football scholarship.”
“And he went to nursing school?” I ask, tone thick with genuine admiration.
“I know. I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my mind around what that must have been like.”
I shrug, noticing the small drool stain on his chest. “Oh… ew. Sorry.”
“What?” He must look down because he just laughs it off, like he seems to do for most of life. “Don’t apologize. Your drooling and snoring were cute.”
I scrunch my face and turn more onto my back. I don’t argue with him. My snoring isn’t bad, but it isn’t non-existent either. And the drool… well, the evidence clearly speaks for itself.
“ Anyway ,” I continue, changing the subject. “I mean, I think you shouldn’t be surprised by your dad’s work ethic. You clearly got all of it—plus your mom’s I’m guessing.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just obvious. Clearly my dad sees it. I remember the way he was talking to you on the phone when he offered you the job.” I snicker at the memory of how excited my dad was on that call. “He sounded almost as proud as he ever has for Grady and I.”
Adrian’s quiet for a second, so I glance up at him. Just in time to catch the end of that nose scrunch, and corner lip bite, that he does every time he’s a little embarrassed.
“And from what you’ve said, you don’t need this job. I also know you’ll be required to meet certain milestones and gain specific experience, while you finish your degree. So, it says a lot that you’re choosing to work here, on top of everything else you have going on.”
His brows furrow, but there’s a slight smile gracing his lips. “Your dad said something similar to that in my interview.”
My mouth drops open, appalled. Though, in Adrian’s defense, he probably has no idea about my dad’s ‘feelings’ or the fact that this is tiptoeing too close to me having a similar one.
“What’s wrong?” He’s more amused than concerned.
“I—I don’t even know how to explain it honestly.”
He just nods and shrugs. “Okay.”
“You’re like, the easiest-going person I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t want you to put me on a pedestal or something.” His tone isn’t irritated, but more serious. “I’m only human—and I’m sure I’ll mess up at some point. Hopefully not in a way that breaks what’s happening between us. Just know I’ll do anything I can to fix it.” His eyes rove over my features, and he drops his head a few more inches toward me. “But it doesn’t feel like I have to try around you, Blake. You make me feel like a…”
He trails off, unsure of his words.
After a few seconds, I impatiently urge, “Feel like what?”
“A man .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to explain that better. I haven’t felt like a kid in a long time, but the feelings you’ve brought out of me… they’re nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
All I can do is nod because I get it.
The way Adrian simply looks at me is a heady thing—and it sends my nerve endings on high alert every time. I know that it’s the mix of deep feelings I’m quickly developing for him that takes his smallest touches from a welcome gesture to a moment I’m quietly craving, every second I’m in his presence. Then I spend most of the night thinking about it in bed.
Lifting up my chin until it’s aligned to his, I breathe shallowly as we watch each other. Our lips are only a few inches from one another, but without moving my foot, I can’t reach any further.
I know we should talk about what happened tonight, with Zippy and the position I put him in. But selfishly, I don’t want to. At least not right now.
Instead, I just want to get lost in Adrian’s orbit—to feel a billion miles away from all of my anxieties and insecurities. I want to know what happens next.
But the ball’s in his court—I wasn’t scared he’d turn me down until about two seconds ago.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Blake,” he quietly murmurs, closing an inch of distance despite his words.
The hand that’s been resting on his knee moves up to the middle of his thigh and I give it a light squeeze. “A kiss won’t hurt me.”