9. Alexis
Chapter 9
Alexis
At exactly eight p.m., Blake texts to say he’s out front.
I drag my feet, of course. I can feel the flare-up of pain looming over me from a mile away, and crowded places are my definition of hell. There is also the issue of our near-kiss hanging between us, a thing we haven’t spoken about since it happened. But I promised I would go with him if only to keep us in the game. So after the third honk, I force myself to leave my safe cocoon and face him.
“Hey,” I say as I slide into the passenger seat. “Thanks for picking me up.”
Blake twists in his seat to face me, his eyes dragging over me as his gaze slightly darkens. “Always. You look cute tonight, Sunshine.”
“Cute?” I smirk. I put on my sluttiest outfit, though I suppose that’s still tame compared to other girl’s day clothes. A tight-fitting white dress that shows a lot—truly, a lot—of cleavage, heels that will make me regret having legs by the end of the night, and lightly patterned tights. Sure, most of it is covered by a long, knit cardigan, but still. Cute is not the word I would use.
“Would you prefer another adjective?” Blake raises a brow. “Ravishing, perhaps?”
I laugh. “You can use whatever words you want.”
“About that,” Blake twists even further in his seat until he’s fully facing me, a position that cannot possibly be comfortable for someone his size. “Can you give me a rundown of things you’re okay with? Like, can I hold your hand, touch your arm? Maybe kiss your cheek if it gets to it?”
I take a moment to process his question, the words leaving his lips at quite the speed as if he’d been afraid to ask.
“You are supposed to be my boyfriend,” I say. “You can touch me wherever you want, call me whatever you want, as long as you warn me before you do something big.”
“I just—” Blake looks away for a moment, the conflict showing on his face. “I don’t want anything I do to cause you panic or fear because it makes you think of…him.”
Is that why he refused to kiss me last night? I can see the logic. Of course I do. And I can’t sit here and pretend such a thing hasn’t happened before; it’s what stopped me from dating in the first place. But I never told him that.
I take Blake’s hand, lacing our fingers together as one. His eyes dart up to meet mine and for a second my breath catches.
“You’re not him,” I say, not just for him but for me. “I promise I will tell you if something like that happens, but you can’t let the fear of it dictate your actions. And I can’t, either. It won’t always be smooth sailing, but…but we need to make this look real, no matter the cost.”
“Are you sure about this?” Blake asks, and the tenderness in his voice is so unlike anything I’m used to that my heart flutters at the sound. “It’s not too late. We can forget the whole thing right here and now.”
I shake my head. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m not taking your money. Maybe I need to look at this as something of a trial run, a fake relationship to prepare me for the real thing, you know? Get me ready to date again. And since you’re doing that for me, I want you to know that as long as you keep it way down on the down low, you’re welcome to sleep with whoever you wish.”
Blake holds my gaze with a scoff. “I haven’t cheated once in my life, and I’m not about to start now.”
“It’s not cheating.” I laugh. “You’re only mine during the day. Who you spend your nights with is none of my business.”
“No.”
I raise a brow. “No?”
“No,” Blake says again, even more firmly this time. “You said it yourself, we need to sell this relationship to win. And if you’re looking at what we’re doing as a trial run, then I’m going to give you the full experience. So no, I won’t be sleeping with anyone. And some nights, the two of us will have sleepovers so my teammates don’t get suspicious. You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”
A muscle tenses in his jaw, those bright blue eyes dark and flighty as they hold mine. There is no convincing him of his plan, that much is clear. “You have thought a lot about this.”
“You have no idea.” He wipes a hand over his face, his eyes pressed closed for a moment before they fall back on me.
There is something in the look on his face that makes my heart flutter, and I bite my lip before I can do something stupid like trying to kiss him again. “Look, you obviously know what you’re doing, and I don’t. Like, at all. So you take the lead, and I’ll follow. And if you cross a line, I’ll kick you in the nuts, and that will be that.”
Blake’s expression softens as he looks at me, his hand still in mine, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin. “Sounds like a fair deal. Let’s fall in love, Sunshine.”
When we step into the house, a few buttons on Blake’s shirt are undone and my hair is slightly disheveled.
I wish it happened naturally, but alas. It was a last-minute idea Blake had to kick-start the rumor mill, and judging by the looks of the drunk kids outside, it’s already working.
“I’m going to put my arm around your waist,” Blake whispers in my ear, and his fingers gently stroke along the width of my back before settling on my hip. In one fast movement he pulls me flush against him, my palm landing on the hard planes of his chest as I try to keep my balance.
Even without looking I know all eyes are on us. The quiet, rarely-seen sister of the captain of the hockey team, getting touchy and dirty with one of the hottest athletes on campus? Yeah, I would not believe it either.
“You okay?” Blake asks under his breath, and as my heart leaps from my chest I raise myself onto my toes and press a kiss to his jaw.
Blake stills beneath my lips and for a moment I think I’ve done something wrong, but as I pull away I find him smiling almost shyly, a hint of color on his cheeks.
“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” he muses, and as a stray beam of light from a mirrorball catches his face I notice the bright purple lipstick staining his jaw.
“I think I left a mark,” I laugh. “Here, let me…”
I move my fingers to wipe off the lipstick but his hand closes over mine before I get the chance.
“Leave it,” Blake says. “Let them know I’m yours.”
And I want to ignore it, pretend they didn’t. But the words make my heart flutter just the same.
Miller’s party is held in the football team’s joint housing, an old Victorian building with a wraparound porch and turret. In its prime it must have been a gorgeous statement of opulence, but after a decade of housing rowdy college boys it is a far cry from beautiful. Most of the wallpaper has been scratched off, there is a mirrorball in the grand foyer and the hardwood floors are in desperate need of varnishing. I shudder at the thought of what the rest of the house must be like.
Though this isn’t an official part of the Cute Couples contest, a small crew armed with cameras and microphones has assembled to capture the scene. Blake was right, then, when he said not going would kill our ranking before the contest started. Whatever misconceptions I had about tonight, about easing into the ruse, I have to leave at the door. Because the presence of cameras means the game is on. It’s all or nothing from here on out.
I try not to dwell on it too much as Blake leads me through every room, shielding me from spilled drinks and clumsy guys built like skyscrapers. And while many jealous gazes are shot my way, I let them bounce right off me.
Though I stick to the shadows, Blake puts me right in the spotlight. From a silly dance in the living room to a friendly game of beer pong where he twirls me around with each shot, Blake knows exactly how to draw attention our way and keep it there.
I enjoy seeing him like this—happy, free in a way I can never quite find myself to be. That realization alone is enough for me to retreat into my shell, and as Blake’s winning streak continues, I excuse myself to cleanse my nostrils of the scent of cheap beer.
The bass from the music booms through the house like an earthquake, and the darkness paired with the crowds makes it hard to see where I’m going. I push through the bodies, following the soft breeze that sometimes rears its head, signaling an open door or window nearby. It’s only a matter of finding it.
“Alexis!”
I turn to find Levi lounging on a worn-out leather chair, my sister sitting on the ground at his feet. They are in what I assume to be a former den, the books on the bookshelves replaced by team photos and trophies. There is an untouched game of chess at the coffee table and a guy I don’t recognize scribbles on a large sheet of paper while others guess letters and take shots when they’re correct.
So, hangman with booze. The creativity of college students knows no bounds.
“Hey, guys. Having fun?”
“Oh yeah, I’m having an absolute blast . If you’re here to take me home, don’t bother. Levi has already taken it upon himself to make sure I don’t have a drop of alcohol.” My sister rolls her eyes in annoyance, though I can see the anxiety in her eyes.
“Well, yeah. You can’t exactly go into your driving test drunk, can you? Not twice, anyway.” I give her a pointed look, but my sister just shrugs.
“I thought it might make a difference.”
“And it did. You didn’t just fail, you were banned from the place,” Levi smirks. Alissa glares at him without a word. She’s been failing her driving tests for years, and even if she somehow passes the next one, I won’t be a passenger in her car without a gun to my head.
“Really, why are you here, though?” Alissa looks me up and down, no doubt spotting the dress I stole from her closet. We’re practically the same person, anyway, so what’s a little theft between sisters?
I open my mouth but before I can say a word a familiar voice bellows through the room, drowning out even the loudest music. “There’s my better half!”
Blake’s arms snake around my waist and he burrows his face in the crook of my neck. Am I dreaming, or are those kisses he’s pressing to my throat?
If I’m dreaming, never wake me up.
From the ground, Alissa is shaking her head with a knowing grin, but Levi doesn’t share her laughter. He looks almost angry as he takes us in, and that’s enough for me to tug at Blake’s sleeve to get him to stop.
The smell of beer on his breath almost takes me out, but it’s what’s behind him that makes my stomach tighten with dread. I grab Blake’s arm, pulling it tighter around me like a shield so Hudson can’t see me, can’t hurt me.
Blake vowed to protect me, but he did so sober. I have no idea what drunk Blake thinks or what he would do, or how much of this is even real. I have to trust that he will keep his word.
“Hey babe,” I say. “Winning streak over?”
A big, goofy grin spreads across Blake’s cheeks as he shouts a little too loudly, “Never. With you in my arms, I’m a winner every damn day.”
Even while drunk, Blake knows just what to say, even if the words are corny as hell. I know I shouldn’t, but I laugh so hard at the sheer ridiculousness of it that tears crowd my eyes and I gasp for air.
“C’mere,” Blake mumbles. His body engulfs me like a weighted blanket and then I’m lifted into the air, his hands firm on my ribcage as he spins us in place. My laughter is audible even over the loudest song of the night and I wonder what is happening to me, why my smiles and laughs appear so easily when it comes to him.
In my peripheral vision I see Hudson shaking his head, his face unreadable. But it’s the camera crew behind him, their lenses pointed straight at us, that makes my heart hammer in my throat.
Guess we’re doing this.
I cup Blake’s face in my hands, still spinning as I bring my lips down to his skin. My lips barely brush his before traveling up to kiss his forehead—fine, I chickened out on kissing him. But couples kiss in other places, right?
Blake stops our spinning at once. His bright blue eyes are filled with wonder as he looks at me. He lowers me gently, inch by inch until my feet touch the ground, and as his fingers brush my cheek I can only hope he’s about to show me what a real kiss looks like. I lean forward, my heart leaping from my chest as he?—
Dashes away. And he dared to jest about the thought of kissing him giving me a rash.
Before I can stop him he has disappeared into the crowd, emerging moments later on the original hardwood stairs. I don’t waste a second before going after him.
The door closes just as I reach the pitch-dark landing and I push through the couples searching for a discreet place to have some fun, knocking on the door moments later.
“Go away.” Blake’s voice sounds strangled; not surprising, since he made the rather stupid decision to start spinning with that much to drink. No wonder it’s all coming back up again. “You don’t want to see this.”
I roll my eyes. Like I’ve never seen anyone throw up before. Hell, once you’ve had someone else’s vomit cover you, the whole thing loses its gross factor.
“I’m coming in.”
The weak light streaming in through the hallway banister illuminates his damp face as he shrieks away from the light, trying to hide himself from my sight. I slip into the small room, closing the door behind me and fidgeting with the lights. For a reason I don’t know but am grateful for, there’s a dim setting.
“Oh, honey.”
No one can hear us, but this isn’t about them. It’s about Blake, retching his guts out, still trying to shield me from the sight. My fingers trace circles on his back out of instinct—it’s something my mother likes to do, and I guess the habit has passed down to me.
Blake groans. An awful, guttural sound filled with suffering, and I start humming if only to make him less self-conscious about the noise he’s making. I’m not known to hold a tune, and it’s a far cry from the original, but in the end my cover of Here Comes The Sun seems to calm him a little.
“Keep going, please .”
I drag my fingers along his spine until I’m met with his soft brown curls, focusing on that instead of the aching in my knee from the hard tile. “Any requests? I suggest you stay far away from Celine Dion, lest you want to feel even worse.”
He barely has time to shake his head, but I don’t need an answer. I caught a glimpse of his playlists on the drive here, and they had enough in common for me to know exactly what he likes. And so, as softly as I can get away with while still being audible, I start singing I’m On Fire. If good ol’ Bruce can’t make him feel better, nothing will.
Normally I would never, ever sing in public, but Blake is in no shape to make fun of me. And if he tries? Well, let’s just say I know the lyrics to My Heart Will Go On by heart.
Blake slumps against the wall and without a word his trembling hand finds my thigh for comfort. I stare at it in wonder. His hand, massive compared to mine, makes me look tiny despite being 5’11”. Stranger still, he touched me without thinking, and I didn’t feel a hint of fear. In fact, it feels almost natural to be touched by Blake and to touch him in return.
It’s a good thing. It means we are comfortable with each other, at a deeper level. Like good friends. That will make it so much easier to trick everyone into thinking we’re in love.
“That should not have worked.” Blake lifts the hem of his navy blue shirt to wipe his face with a groan, though he makes no effort to hover above the toilet bowl. Progress . I wet a few sheets of toilet paper in place of a cloth and settle back down beside him, gently cleaning the sweat off his skin.
“You’re right, it shouldn’t have. Not even a little. But it did.”
He rests his head against the cold tile with a smile and closes his eyes. In this moment of reprieve, I search my purse for the anti-nausea pills I know are hidden in there somewhere and stuff them into his palm.
“Take these, they’ll make you feel better. There’s no glass for water, but maybe if you?—”
Before I can finish my sentence he’s tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed. I shudder at the sight, almost feeling the dryness of those pills going down my throat. “You raw-dog your pills? You’re such a weirdo.”
“You’re the one who followed me into the bathroom. You can’t judge a person for what they do here. It’s in the constitution.” His strong arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer before resting his forehead against my temple, his breath tickling my ear.
“You’re so soft.” He brushes his lips against my skin. “Always so fucking soft. Drives me insane.”
I laugh—drunk people say the strangest things. “It’s a peach-scented body lotion. Got it at a two-for-one sale.”
His breath tickles my skin as he sniffs his way to my throat, the tickling sensation making me laugh again. “Smells like god-damn heaven. Can I eat it?”
“Nope.”
“Can I eat you?” His face is barely an inch from mine, the look in his eyes revealing his every thought. His gaze flits to my lips, and if I’m lucky he won’t notice the wildfire on my cheeks.
“You—what?”
Blake brushes a loose lock from my face, allowing me to see the lust in his gaze when he says, “I’ve been dying to taste you since the moment I first saw you years ago. I can make you feel so fucking good, Alexis. You just have to let me.”
The low tone of his voice sends a wave of longing to the lowest part of my belly and I bite my lip to keep myself in check. I might be unable to bring myself to orgasm, but I have no doubt in my mind that Blake can get me there. I doubt it would even take any effort on his part; I’ve burned for him in secret for so long that seeing him naked might be my undoing, though I’d never deny myself the chance to be touched by him.
But this isn’t sober Blake talking. Sober Blake doesn’t even want to kiss me, let alone fuck me. If there’s one thing I know for sure is that drunk Blake is lying his cute butt off.
“Is that so?” I ask. “Because I’m thinking you’re full of it. Drunk Blake is saying things sober Blake doesn’t think about.”
A low chuckle leaves his throat, his lips brushing against my neck with an intoxicating gentleness. “Oh, trust me, Sunshine. I think about you plenty.”
He kisses my neck. “In bed.”
“In the kitchen.” His tongue traces an agonizing pattern over the curl of my ear. Another kiss, on my temple this time, his voice but a whisper in my ear. “In the shower.”
Heat explodes in my veins, my body aflame with a hunger I've rarely felt. I gasp as his lips find my collarbone, his tongue deliciously close to my sensitive nipples, but come to my senses before his lips reach mine.
“Blake,” I whisper as I gently push him off me. “Stop. You’re drunk.”
Something changes in his gaze as he blinks, his eyes taking on a peacefulness I don’t often see. His hand finds mine, our fingers laced together as he leans his head on my shoulder. “Thank you, Alexis.”
I press a kiss on the back of his palm. I might never be able to kiss Blake or sleep with him, no matter how badly I may want to. But Blake doesn’t seem to care about any of that–he treats me the same as before he found out, still flirting and testing my boundaries in the way only he can.
And so, as my siblings half-carry Blake back to the car and he glances over his shoulder at me, all I can do is smile.
Because in some way, however small and short-lived, we had a moment no one can take away.