Chapter 15 Cal
CAL
Rain falls in sheets against my windshield, my wipers no longer moving as I sit in my driveway and stare blankly at my house. I have no idea how long I’ve been here, unable to move as the events of the last few hours weigh on me.
I’d gone to work on cloud nine after my fake date with Blake, but the high of our night together had been short-lived.
Nothing but a distant memory.
The lights are on in the kitchen, and I can imagine Blake moving around the space being sexy and competent as he cooks something delicious.
But even that doesn’t brighten my mood.
Days like today never get easier. My heart hurts, and this isn’t one of those jobs where you leave everything behind when you clock out. I’ve carried it with me all day, carried it home, and I’ll take it back with me tomorrow.
Heaving a breath, I turn off my car and pull the key from the ignition. I don’t bother moving fast as I push open the car door, my clothes dampening in an instant as I drag myself up the steps to the porch and into the house.
Blake’s back is to me as I toe off my shoes and drop my wallet and keys on the counter. I’m happy he’s here.
“Blake?”
“Hey, what—” He turns toward me and takes one look at my face before dropping the spoon onto the counter and turning the burner off. Rounding the island, he cups my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my forehead.
I must look as bad as I feel but I don’t care. I let my arms snake around him and press my face to his chest. He holds me like that in the kitchen, never once mentioning that I’m wet or that this wasn’t what we agreed to.
Blake just lets me have this moment, and I revel in the steady beat of his heart, his chest rising and falling beneath me.
“I need to change but can we just,”—I swallow hard, knowing how small and needy I sound—“can we just watch a movie?”
“Sure,” he murmurs as I step back out of his embrace.
“I didn’t know you owned sweatpants,” I blurt out, my gaze sliding over him as he looks down at himself.
Black T-shirt.
Gray sweatpants.
Wow.
“Trying something new,” he says with a small shrug, the tone of his voice off but I can’t figure out why.
“You look good,” I tell him. “Relaxed, I mean. I like you relaxed.” I motion abruptly toward the stairs and hustle up to the second floor. I need to stop saying things like you look good because if I’m not careful that’s going to turn into I want to see you naked.
Grabbing the back of my shirt, I pull it over my head and hang it over my open closet door then do the same with my pants. My skin feels cold and damp as I stand in the middle of the room and scrub my hands over my face.
My soul is tired.
It’s the most accurate description I can come up with as I find an old sweatshirt and flannel pants to throw on.
Blake’s already on the couch flipping through the channels as I make it back into the living room, but looks up when I come in. “I didn’t know what you wanted to watch.”
“Jurassic Park is always a safe bet.”
“I forgot that movie even happened.”
“And I’m going to forget that those words ever came out of your mouth,” I quip as he starts the movie and leans against the back of the couch. “Can we lie down?” I ask, swallowing hard as I clarify, “Can I lie with you?”
He blinks at me and I can see the mental calculus he’s doing about what the consequences might be before he licks his lips and nods. “Sure. How do you…”
His words trail off as I pick up his stupid blanket and wrap it around my shoulders before motioning for him to stretch out. Lying on his back, Blake watches me as I maneuver myself until I am wedged between him and the back of the couch, my face resting on his chest and my arm draped across him.
It’s intimate.
Probably inappropriate.
But I can feel the stress start to melt almost instantly as he grips the back of my neck, his fingers gently massaging and pressing into my skin.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“We have to file reports if we suspect or can confirm there’s neglect or abuse happening in a student’s life. I had to do that today. These things are never cut-and-dried, and even though we try to be a resource for the student, it’s hard—for them and for us. There are so many unknowns.”
“I’m so sorry you had to be involved with that today, but it sounds like you did the right thing. They’re lucky to have someone like you that cares.”
I don’t mean to, but the validation in his words has me pressing myself harder against him, my breath whooshing from my lungs as he continues to work his fingers up and down, his short nails scraping against my scalp.
Damn, that feels good.
“I was just doing my job,” I murmur, nuzzling against his chest like a cat. Why does he smell so good?
“You were being you. Your heart is so big and you care. Your students can see that.”
“Shh…” I whisper and he chuckles softly, his chest vibrating under me, soothing as much as it is appealing. “You’re going to make me fall asleep.”
“Then sleep. I’ll hold you.”
I don’t know if he actually said the last part or if I just imagined it, but it’s the last thing I remember before I finally give in and let the dream world pull me under.