14. Korine
14
KORINE
“Will you stop hogging all the hot water for yourself?” I yell from the other side of the door. I pound a fist against it for the dozenth time.
The staticky sound of spraying water only seems to grow louder. It does nothing to disguise the whistling coming from the man in the shower—Blake’s taking his sweet time. Probably savoring every second he gets to drive me insane.
“Blake!” I croak with another rap of my knuckles. “I’m going to be late for work if you don’t open this?—”
The door swings open and he’s standing before me dripping wet. His normally perfect golden hair is shiny and slicked down. His blue eyes gleam. His warm, pink lips twitch into an almost-smile, waking the dormant butterflies in my belly. They flutter away inside my stomach as my gaze drops and then my jaw.
Blake’s naked .
He stands in the doorway looking every bit the impossibly handsome, well-built specimen that he is. Wide shoulders and sculpted biceps decorated by a handful of tattoos. A torso with zero body fat to be found. Just the stack of bricks that make up his six-pack abs.
The lower my gaze tracks, the more bated my breath becomes. It’s like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning except there’s no wrapping necessary at all—Blake’s dick dangles between his legs, as large and mouthwatering as I remember it.
Fat tip. A slight curve to his length. Smooth velvet that feels so good it sends a shiver down my spine. And the neatest, most well-groomed pair of balls I’ve ever seen.
All on display for me to gape at, speechless.
The rest of his body is no less magnificent. Golden-tinted man-hair dusts his sturdy thighs and legs, and he’s planted his feet on the ground in a stance that exudes confidence, even though he’s naked. He dwarfs me, taller than he was when we were in high school, tapping out a couple inches above six feet.
Mama was right—Blake Cash looks so damn good it’s enough to make any woman sling her panties at him.
Humor sparkles in his eyes watching me ogle him. “Like something you see, Kori?”
My tongue won’t cooperate. Neither will my brain. I blink several times and sputter out, “Huh?”
“Me too,” Blake rasps. He leans closer ’til his lips graze my ear. “I sure as hell like what I see.”
It’s then that it dawns on me in horrifying shock—glancing down my front, I’m naked too!
Naked as the day I was born.
I open my mouth to scream only for the scene around me to vanish. I’m springing up on the sofa with heaving breaths and my eyes wide.
It was a dream. Only a dream.
“Thank god,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my chest where my heart’s pounding. “It wasn’t real.”
“What wasn’t real?” Blake asks. He strolls into the living room—this time fully dressed—holding two mugs of coffee. The one in his right hand he sets on the coffee table for me, keeping the left for himself. “You were too damn cute sleeping on the couch. Couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
I lick my lips, still dazed from the very realistic, very convincing dream. “Errr… thanks.”
“Listen, I was thinking we should get out today. Do something other than work at the Chop Shop and hang around my trailer.”
My grip tightens on the blanket sprawled across my lap. “Something as in, what?”
“The Christmas market’s open this weekend. It could be fun.”
“Christmas market? Out in the open around everybody in Pulsboro?”
“Yeah, in front of everybody in Pulsboro. You afraid to be seen by ’em?” He raises a brow as if in offense. “You’re divorced. A free woman who can do as she pleases.”
“I’m only separated. I’m not divorced. Not yet. I’ve only filed?—”
“You plan on going back to him?”
Disgust spreads onto my face. “Of course not. I’m done. For real this time.”
“Then, what’s the big deal? You’d be going with a friend to browse the booths. That’s allowed, Kori.”
“It’s not that it’s not allowed,” I say, my hesitation slowing down the words out of my mouth. An uneven breath shakes its way from my lungs, and I run my fingers through the few inches of short, messy hair on my head. “It’s that anybody who’s lived in town longer than five minutes knows our history.”
He releases a husky laugh of surprise, almost spilling coffee down his front. Slamming his mug down on the coffee table, he stares at me like he can’t believe what he’s heard. “So this is about us—you’re worried what people’ll think?”
“Blake…” I say, my speech still slow. My shoulders tensing up. “We have a past.”
“We were teenagers .”
I let out my own small laugh. Mine infused with equal disbelief. “Did you forget what happened between us? How… attached we were?”
“You mean like how everybody in town thought we’d get married and have a dozen babies someday? How we’d live out our days in some nice house with a perfect white picket fence?”
“We shouldn’t have this conversation. It’s too awkward and it’s not the right time.” I push away the blanket that’s been covering me. Up on my feet, I turn in the direction of the bathroom.
Blake’s not one to quit once in the middle of addressing a situation. I make it only two steps before he’s talking again like the conversation isn’t over.
“What’re you really afraid of, Kori? Your dickweed of an ex-husband seeing you?” he asks. “Or is it that you’re afraid of what could happen if we really be friends again?”
My heart aches hearing the accusations. The hole that’s been in my heart all these years has never felt more gaping. Combined with the X-rated dream I had mere minutes ago, it’s way too much—it’s too damn confusing.
I stop short, my shoulders sagging, my head bowing. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Tell me we’re still good. You’re still my best friend.”
The strain in his voice makes me look over my shoulder at him. Blake’s never been good at relationships and matters of the heart, but he has his tells. He has his ways where he demonstrates just how much he cares. Meeting his gaze from halfway across the room, I can see the desperation etched in his deep blue eyes.
He misses our bond. He wants it to be like before, where we’d spend whole days together like it was second nature to us.
“You’ll always be my best friend.”
I flee the scene before he can respond. Considering the trailer’s only nine hundred square feet, there aren’t many places to escape to. I crack the bedroom door open to check on Mama, then tiptoe inside to grab a few things. Quiet as I try to be, she stirs anyway.
“Morning, baby,” she murmurs, squinting. “What time is it? I’ve been sleeping real good in this big ol’ bed of Blake’s. I try not to think about all the ladies he must’ve had come through.”
My tepid smile humors Mama as I busy myself with rummaging through my duffle bag of things. A few more paychecks, and I’ll have enough to get us an apartment. Blake’s offered money up to make it happen now—so has Mason and the MC—but I’ve declined.
I want to earn it myself. Through my hard work at the bike shop.
Mama picks up on my lack of response at her joke about Blake and the many women he’s likely bedded. “Baby, everything okay?”
“Do you want breakfast, Mama? Blake made some coffee.”
“I want to know what’s up with my daughter. You think I don’t know when you’re upset? Baby, I carried you for nine long months. I can feel your every emotion.”
The smile on my lips transforms from tepid to bittersweet as I give a shake of my head. “It’s just stuff between me and Blake. No big deal.”
“Ahhh, I see,” she says in a sage tone. Three short words that tell me she knows more than I do about my own situation. “You two have always been peas in a pod. From the time you were small.”
“Well, we’re grown now.”
“Which makes things complicated, doesn’t it?”
“He wants to go to the Christmas market.”
Mama’s sparse brows jump high, her lips pursed. “Does he now? And what did you say?”
“I said people would see us.”
“And?”
“And… and…”
I don’t know.
“Korine Tiana McKibbens, get your butt in some decent clothes and go spend the day with that man.”
“But—”
“You haven’t seen him in ten years, and you could use a little joy. Go, right now.”
I stand up straight with hands on my hips. “Mama, I’m not a child anymore. Remember?”
“Then stop acting like one and go, go, go!”
“Fine. But only if you come with. You’ve been just as cooped up as me. Blake won’t mind.”
And he doesn’t.
When I emerge from the bedroom and let him know we’d like to go after all, he’s no less enthusiastic about the outing. Within the hour, we’re piling into his truck and driving across town to Main Street where the market’s located. Though Mama sits in between us on the drive over, the enclosed space still feels tortuous—it still feels like I’m far too close to Blake.
I can practically pick up on his natural musk. A masculine scent that’s woodsy but clean and soapy at the same time; a scent that I’m more than a little familiar with.
He smells the same even after all these years.
My throat thickens at the thought, and I swallow against the tight feeling. It’s bad enough that I can’t stop thinking about the dream I had earlier. The last thing I need to be noticing is how good Blake smells, how he casts me and Mama sidelong glances with a little smile canting his lips and the winter sunlight caught in his eyes.
Who am I kidding?
I can acknowledge he’s an attractive man without wanting anything more. Blake always was the cutest boy at school. The guy all the girls threw themselves at. His hair, his face and body, and the one-of-a-kind smile of his that makes you feel so special, like you’re the only person he’s ever given it to—any woman would want him.
That’s without even acknowledging his charming personality and the natural confidence he possesses. A certain swag that makes him even more irresistible.
I glance over at him. He’s telling Mama about the crêpes booth they have at the market. She giggles at the little jokes he cracks and the sweet way he speaks to her. All genuine and sincere.
In a way Ken never was with Mama. She’s never been so at ease.
I’ve never been…
I force my gaze back to the window on my side of the truck despite the fact that a warmth has settled over me. I’m burning up by the time we’ve parked and we’re walking a block down to the market.
The crowds milling about let us know we’re some of the last in town to show up.
Blake’s offered Mama his arm to help her navigate all the people. I smile at him in gratitude for being so thoughtful. Busy scenes like this can quickly become overwhelming for her.
We wander around, periodically stopping at a booth that sells Christmas trinkets or tasting samples available from the food vendors. After a pitstop at the funnel cake station, I release an airy laugh that surprises even me.
“Blake… your beard. You’ve got powder all over it.”
Mama joins me in my laughter. Blake tucks his chin into his shoulder, rubbing away the powder using his shirt sleeve. The only problem is, he makes it worse; the powdered sugar spreads across his jaw.
Stepping forward, I take mercy on him and produce a towelette wipe from my purse. “Here, Blake Cash, because you’re hopeless.”
He stands still and lets me mop him clean of any sugary powder decorating his face. Seconds pass us by before our proximity dawns on me and the unspoken tension rises to a feverish heat. Even in the face of the December wind. My eyes flick up to find his already on me.
Studying me. Admiring me. Peering into me in a way only he’s ever been able to.
I take an immediate step back, feeling acutely aware of every cell in my body and how each one reacts whenever near him.
Mama’s watching on with a look that says I told you so without actually speaking the words.
Before I can figure out a new direction to take the moment, we’re interrupted by two people approaching us.
“Hey, thought that was you,” Sydney says, an ease about her. She’s at Mason’s side, the two so complementary it’s no wonder they’re together. She smiles at us and asks us how we’re liking the market.
“Very good,” Mama answers. She points a finger at Mason. “But I really want to catch up with this one.”
Mason lets out a short laugh and cocks his head to the side. “What did I do this time, Mrs. McKibbens?”
“It’s Ms. these days, and I haven’t forgotten about your bad little self riding your bike all over my lawn. Look at you, all grown now. Tell me about all the trouble I’m sure you’ve caused.”
Mason holds up his hands. “I’ve been behaving myself, Ms. McKibbens. For once.”
“So a leopard does change its spots!”
Mama shuffles unprovoked toward Mason and Sydney as if by invite.
“Mama, some other time,” I say. “Mason and Sydney are here together?—”
“We don’t mind,” Sydney interjects, sharing a smile with Mama. “We’ll take very good care of her. You two go on.”
Suddenly, it occurs to me I’ve walked straight into a trap.
Everybody knows what they’re doing. I’m the one that’s slow on the uptake. As Mama joins Mason and Sydney and the couple winks at us, I’m left standing alone with Blake. He seems equally pleased with how the situation has been flipped on its head.
Before I can even think up any other protests, Mama’s wandered off in between Mason and Sydney, the trio already engaged in animated chatter.
My nose wrinkles as I shoot Blake a suspicious look. “That was totally coordinated, wasn’t it? Mason and Sydney didn’t just happen to turn up and see us here, did they?”
Blake’s shrug is innocuous. “Who knows? Small town.”
“I’ll say. Full of scheming bikers.”