Chapter 16 #3
The perks of having a loud and obnoxious personality is how easy it was to sell that image. How simple it was to get people lowering their guard around me in order to collect as much information as I could before flipping it around and using it for my clients.
It seemed as though Talos was slowly starting to peek through the mask I wore. His skepticism gave him a sort of buffer against my charms, causing him to go from curious to suspicious nearly instantly.
Good for him, honestly. Not being easily swindled was a skill not many possessed.
Not naturally, at least.
Among this group of people I’d already won over, he was in a losing battle.
The majority were already on my side, seeing my offer as a harmless gesture to thank the camp’s director with a bit of flare added to it for a little flavor.
They weren’t seeing what was underneath—my paralyzing need to see Blake again before tomorrow stole him away from me indefinitely.
One last time. That’s all the hit I needed to hold me over.
Talos finally sighed. “The path leading from the mess hall, there’s one around the back that goes to the offices. Head that way. He’s up on the top level. You’ll see the door. The light’s probably still on.”
I threw him a wink. “Thanks. I’ll snag you an extra cup, too, for your troubles.”
His expression flattened again. “I’ll pass. Thanks, though.”
At least Blake had someone solid like him by his side. A man able to see through the bullshit was a valuable asset to have. Especially as the second in charge.
Nodding to the rest of the group and bowing flamboyantly in order to draw one last laugh from them all, I quickly turned and jogged toward the mess hall, leaving my beer behind. I wasn’t going to need it, anyway. I wanted to be stone cold sober when I talked to Blake.
A part of me wanted to apologize to him, though for what I wasn’t exactly sure.
Pushing him past his limits? Getting too intimate too quickly by tucking him in bed with me? Not kicking him out the moment we both had our breathing back to normal?
Whatever it was, if it got me the old Blake back, I’d fucking do it.
Even if I didn’t mean any of it.
Following Talos’s directions, I jogged until a large house came into view.
It was two stories with an outside staircase leading up to the second level.
A lone lightbulb was lit up on the second floor, right above the door with a few bugs bouncing off of it.
The night was quiet with no signs of life other than that.
I flexed my hand around the ice pack and sucked in a breath.
I took the stairs two at a time, getting up to the landing in record time. The window facing out toward the camp was covered by a thick curtain, leaving no light spilling through from the other side, and no way to tell if anyone was actually in there.
The tapping of the moths bouncing their small bodies against the light met with my heartbeat, a steady rhythm that felt loud enough to hear through the blood rushing in my ear. There was a strong possibility if Blake was in there, he wasn’t alone.
Lifting my fist, I pounded it against the door a few times.
His grandfather had expressed wanting to stick around the camp for a while. Staying overnight wasn’t a huge stretch.
The door swung open quickly, a gust of wind slapping me in the face from the force.
Brown eyes blinked at me once, twice, and then widened. “Marlow?”
I had every intention to shove the ice pack into his hands and rattle off some quick apology before turning around and heading back down the stairs and leaving him be for the rest of the night. I really did, I swear.
But the second I caught sight of that slightly bewildered expression, coupled with the soft curiosity lingering in that dark gaze of his, I found myself leaning forward until my shoulder hit the side of the door’s molding.
The moths dancing above our heads, the irony of them constantly trying to fly into the orb of light with no second thoughts outside of their desire to get as close to it as humanly possible, wasn’t lost on me in the slightest.
In fact, the parallels were almost staggering.
Me, a moth.
Blake, the damn flame.
I was powerless to stop myself from any of this. My body moving on its own accord with the desire of my heart at the helm of it all. This was beyond a simple passing sexual interest and was hitting into actual infatuation that I cared very little at the moment to stop.
Why bother?
Why hurt myself anymore than I’d already done so by pretending like I didn’t care?
Clearly, being in denial wasn’t working anymore and was most likely going to send me into an early grave if I continued to drink about it.
Blake’s lips parted again.
“Tell me to leave,” I said, cutting in before he could.
He blinked one more. “What?”
“You gotta tell me to leave.” He was so close, I could reach out and cup his face if I wanted to. Pull him into so I could bury my nose in his hair and breathe whatever shampoo he used like a fucking dog.
“I—why?”
I stayed right where I was, pressing my full body weight into the doorframe and letting the slight pinch of the corner of it dig into me to break through the cloudy haze already trying to muddle up my thoughts.
Here was a moment in time that I had a crossroads right in front of me.
Turn and walk away and leave Blake be, or do what I really wanted to do and shove him back against the door so I could kiss him stupid.
Both options would change things.
Which consequence was I willing to face in the aftermath?
“Blake,” my voice was already growing gravely. “If you let me cross over this doorway and into that office, I’m going to lock it behind me and lay you out on that desk you probably have piled high with papers right now.”
His throat bobbed.
“And I’m not leaving until I make a mess of you.” That was a fucking promise.
He let out a shaky exhale.
“Tell me to leave,” I said once more.
His hand flexed around the edge of the door.
I was frozen still, waiting for him to make his choice.
Either way, I’d behave and do as he asked.
If he told me to go, I’d respect it and hurry back to my cabin to lick my wounds.
There would be no holding it over him. He’d made his choice and that was that.
If not...
If he let me in—
When he let go of it, he slowly stepped deeper into his office. My heart thudded hard in my chest, the silent invitation almost too hard to believe it was being offered. His tongue darted out to swipe at his lips, the front of his shorts steadily growing tighter the longer I stood here.
“Say it,” I whispered.
He pulled in one single breath, and then said, “Come in, Marlow.”