Chapter 8
After a restless night, I wake up with a gasp, my chest heaving. Even hours later, I still feel his mouth pressed against mine, my lips tingling in response.
I fall back onto my bed, squeezing my eyes shut at the undeniable truth. Blake’s the one I ache for, the only one I want, yet he will never give himself to me.
The pain spreads through my chest––sick with love for him and a desire that feels unbearable. That’s nothing new in my Blake-invaded soul. I am so used to wanting what I can’t have. I have lived a hundred different love stories with him––alone, lying in my bed at night. During the two months he was gone, I filled his absence with dream-like scenarios playing out on the ceiling.
In my dreams, he loves me back, making me feel like the most special, luckiest girl alive.
In my dreams, he wants me. Needs me. He holds me tight and never lets me go.
In my dreams, I live my own happily ever after. It feels so real at times that only the tears streaming down my face remind me of the cruel and bitter reality my forlorn heart refuses to acknowledge.
I am acutely aware that I could never give myself to someone else as long as he’s near. And the worst thing is, the selfish asshole wouldn’t allow anyone else to have me either. The show he put on last night was clear proof.
Who would go in the ring with him for me? His reputation precedes him. Was it hot witnessing his possessiveness? It so was, even though I felt bad for Theo. My body hummed, and I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to feel Blake’s body pressed against mine with no choice but to take all the things he suppresses. He has played the damn role of the easy-going guy for so long, but I sensed from the start that something darker rippled just beneath the surface.
After changing into a cashmere sweater and jeans, I comb my hair. Opening my jewelry box, where I keep all my hair clips, I look at the one he gave me. It’s too precious to wear daily, so I select a green one instead, even though most of mine are violet—my favorite color. But when he left, every time I bought one, it was green. I missed him, so I won’t even deny why the color of his eyes always sent me spiraling into a hole of longing.
When I reach the kitchen island, I am surprised to find him there as well.
Seeing all my friends gathered, I hope we’ll overcome this strain. We have to—not just because we have to work together as a team, but because we only have each other. No one outside our circle could understand the legacy we carry, the secrets we share, and the responsibilities we deal with. That binds us for life.
“Who made breakfast?” I ask, looking at the plate of meat and cheese.
They all glimpse at Blake, who scratches his neck. “What? That’s the rule, right? The first to wake up prepares breakfast.”
“It looks delicious,” I rasp, sitting beside him because it’s the only seat left. Celine, Kaden, Abigail, and Dane are on the other side of the table, while my brother and Bailey are next to me. These two leave so much space between them that another two seats could fit, forcing Blake and me to sit so close our thighs brush.
He doesn’t look at me as he puts an assortment of cheese and salami on my plate. I swear everyone stops eating as they watch him.
“What now? Fuck off. Knowing you all, she was probably the one who made breakfast most of the time.”
Why is he like that? Why is he always reminding me he is the only one taking care of me?
A memory passes before my eyes. The image is so clear: I was baking the day everyone moved in with us after Dane set their house on fire. I was stressed out but found comfort in baking muffins afterward because I loved how he watched me and ate the batter. I warned him he might get a stomachache, but he never cared.
I offer a small thank you, and Kaden says, “After classes, I’m coming with you to the compound.”
“Okay,” Blake replies.
Something has shifted between them; they seem more agreeable to each other. Maybe some alone time and bonding will help these two stubborn guys get back to where they trust each other with their lives.
When we finish eating, we all part, going to classes.
Walking in a line with the girls, Abigail elbows me playfully. “What was that at the table?”
I shrug. I honestly have no idea.
“Blake cares about you. I don’t know why he doesn’t make a move, though,” Celine says.
“We need to earn his trust. I need to know what happened to him,” Abi says.
Yes, she and I both.
Bailey stiffens next to us. She’s aware of more than she’s letting on, but she’s loyal. I’d rather he confides in me, but I doubt that will ever happen.
“So how was your date?” Abi asks.
I groan. “He kept babbling about his family name.”
“What is it?” Both Celine and Abigail ask.
“Theo Graham the third.”
We all giggle. “But anyway, I pretended to be more interested than I was until Blake put an end to it by hitting him in the face. Blake had the nerve to tell me he’d allow me to date the guy who fights him and wins.”
“You’re going to die a virgin,” Bailey says, completely serious.
“Blake will take care of that,” Abi says, and I blush a fiery red. The thought heats my skin like nothing else.
“So we either find someone suicidal enough or you wear him down,” Celine says.
We all stop walking, and she continues, “I mean, not realizing that was what Kaden and I did with every fight. I don’t recommend our strategy, but Blake is stubborn, so maybe make him jealous enough.”
“I don’t want to drag innocent guys into the middle of this.”
“They’re not so innocent. Please, they’d like to fuck you, so they should work for it,” Abi says.
“But it’s like going up against a damn machine,” I say, voice tinged with resignation.
“Dane did the same. No wonder I stood no chance with him,” she says, sighing dreamingly.
I fix her with an intent look. “Yes, because your Dane is mad when it comes to you.”
“We shouldn’t settle for anything but guys who are crazy about us,” Bailey says.
She is the first to leave, heading to the media department. As she walks away, we all glance at each other.
“Kaden told me that Bailey asked Blake to teach her how to fight, but Hunter offered instead.”
“I love you, but if he hurts her, I will kill your twin,” Abi tells me.
“I don’t understand him anymore.”
“She’s someone who intrigues him. And let’s be honest, Hunter never had to fight for anyone,” Celine says.
“I am more afraid things will get even worse between them.”
They nod. I love my brother, but my mom’s death changed him, and every year in high school, he became more silent. Silent people tend to hide things, and he would never confide in me. I fear he’ll take out all his frustration and bottled-up emotions on Bailey.
We head to our classes, and the professor drones on about the reforms in the educational system throughout the years, but I struggle to stay focused. I can’t stop thinking about what the girls said. If I push and push, Blake will snap. And then what? I am a mess, and he just kissed me. I will combust if more happens, but apparently, I want to burn.
He made me do it. That will be my damn defense.
At the end of classes, everyone waits for me in front of our house. There’s a nervous energy swirling around as we head to our cars, once again girls in one and the guys in another.
Abigail raps along to the music as Celine drives, tapping on the wheel. Neither Bailey nor I love driving that much, so they take turns. I doubt it’s the same story with the guys, though—they always argue over who gets to drive, which is why they’re always late.
“I swear I’m going to make them draw straws next time,” Abi says, shaking her head.
“Men,” Celine replies. When we see the headlights approaching, we all look to see who won this time. Blake is behind the wheel while the others step out with sulking faces.
“Guys, really?” Abi asks.
“We should take our own damn cars,” Dane mumbles.
Samuel opens the door, wearing a clouded expression. As we step inside, guards move up and down the hallway, and we come to an abrupt halt.
“What’s wrong?” Kaden asks.
“Ma’am awaits you in her office,” Samuel replies, features pulled taut.
With every step, tension coils around me, making my steps falter. Something happened.
Once we’re in her office, Cassandra turns around by the window. “Felix and Caleb have escaped.”
The air whooshes from my lungs. Blake comes to my side, and that offers me strength.
“How the fuck is that possible?” Kaden says, pacing around.
“I knew I should have killed those motherfuckers,” Dane says, rage burning in his eyes.
“They had help. We found the guards passed out on the floor, and the cameras were cut.”
“An inside job,” Blake says.
“Any suspects?” Celine asks.
“All the seniors?” Abigail says.
A nervous silence follows.
“I don’t want any of you alone from now on.”
“Ma’am, I am an F1 driver. The season starts in three months, and I can’t fucking leave Abigail knowing those two are out there,” Dane says.
“We’ll figure it out by then. I am deeply sorry, but we don’t know who helped them, or where they are…”
“My father will come after Mia,” Blake says.
“And Felix after Abigail,” Dane says, letting out a string of curses.
“Those are speculations at best. The only thing we know for sure is they want revenge and any of us would do,” Abigail says.
“I will post men and monitor access to the college, and they will patrol the grounds day and night. The traitors will be found, just like Felix and Caleb, and they will be dealt with once and for all. I am not putting your lives in jeopardy anymore.”
I notice the struggle in her eyes. She wants to lead by moral example, but she can’t anymore. It’s them or us, and I will do everything it takes to keep my people safe.
“Who do you trust?” Blake asks.
“Sebastian, Cillian, and Christine.”
So, the ones who live here at the compound. That leaves a lot of potential traitors among the Family’s members.
Kaden’s jaw sets in a hard line. “That shortens the list by three.”
Bailey’s parents, Abigail’s parents, and the other seniors who don’t have active leadership roles in the Family remain, still working for it.
“Return to campus. It’s the safest place for you at the moment.”
We don’t even bother to buckle up once we’re in the car.
“Hey, are you okay?” Celine asks Abigail, who stares straight ahead, not even blinking and stiff as a statue.
“I’d rather die than have him catch me,” Abigail says through a gulp.
We all move to hug her as best we can in the confined space.
“I’ll kill him before Felix even dares to come near you,” Celine says, locking eyes with her in a shared moment.
“I need a drink,” Abigail mutters, and Celine drives to the house.
We’re the first to arrive. As I set the glasses down, the guys walk in. I can’t tell who has the more dangerous look.
They all sit around on the couch, and Bailey pours each of them a drink. Everyone downs theirs, except Blake.
“If there’s a time to drink, it’s now,” Dane says.
“It wouldn’t help. But what would is to find the fucker before he finds––” He looks at me, and I know with absolute certainty he’d kill his own father to keep me safe.
I hear them talking, trying to come up with a plan, but I’m just exhausted. The thought that I could lose any of them debilitates me, so I go to my room and get under the covers. With my eyes closed, I try to fall asleep when I hear my door opening. My heart thumps a wild staccato. He’s here .
Blake tiptoes to my side of the bed, placing something down. The moon casts a dim light on him, yet his gorgeous features overshadow the darkness.
“A gift?” I ask. I don’t want to be alone, and no one could cast my loneliness away like he does with his simple presence.
He drops onto the edge of the bed. “I swear to everything that nothing will happen to you.”
“I know. I just wish you’d make the promise to yourself as well.”
Silence falls while he watches me. I see the terror etched in his eyes, warring with remorse.
Picking up the hair clip, strong emotions envelop me. It’s green with a violet butterfly, so delicate and fragile—just like everything between us.
“Should I expect more?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. When he’s here, it’s so easy for me to pretend he cares like I want him to—not as a friend or someone he feels protective toward, but because I mean more to him. The delusion will be the death of all my romantic dreams.
“Twenty,” he says. “I bought one in every city I fought.”
My mouth opens in incredulity. Why did you? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but what am I supposed to do with that information? “Trying to make up for the one you stole?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice. That one is mine. It became my lucky charm,” he says with a grin that melts me.
“I could have given it to you.” If you’d have just asked. I know I am pathetic, but I’d give him everything he wanted.
“We didn’t part in a friendly way.”
I scoot up with my back leaning against the headboard. I might be dreaming, but I can’t believe he’s in my room, and we’re actually having a heartfelt conversation.
“I’m sorry I called you a coward.”
“You had every right to call me whatever you wanted. You didn’t want me to leave.”
“Yet, you still did.”
His entire body stiffens. I am losing him. He’s going to leave any moment. I know it.
He stands up, and my heart deflates. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve.”
Who cares about that? I just want him.
“It’s okay, Blake. You can’t force feelings.” I shrug to avoid appearing unaffected while swallowing the hurt.
His hand goes to his pocket, and it looks like he’s rubbing something there. “Sleep.”
“Can you?” I wish he’d climb in bed with me and wrap me in his muscular arms so the world around me would disappear until it’s just the two of us.
Nothing bad could touch me when he’s near me. Yet, at the same time, I want him to stay as far away from me as possible. I am the target. His father’s words were clear. I just wished I’d taken them seriously.
Knowing Blake, he’s laying the blame on his shoulders, but he never wanted me to comfort him.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
I loathe that word. Fine is the opposite of good. Fine is when you give up on hoping you can be truly well and settle for being content.
He leans against the wall beside the window. While he looks outside, features drawn in concentration, I gaze at him, trying to get my fill, but it gets too much for my weak heart to take.
Closing my eyes, I turn on my side with a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. He won’t be here in the morning. He never stays. I should tell him to leave, but he never listens, and I have always been bad at denying him anything.
Ever since I met him, I was aware he had demons and I thought I could ease those. That came at the price of my heart, yet I know my body will be safe.
***
At the kitchen table, the anxiety ping-pongs around our group as everyone’s gaze shifts from me to Abigail.
“Guys, stop it. You’re freaking me out.”
“Sweetheart, I have no fucking clue why you’re this calm,” Dane says, body rippling with barely contained anger.
“You should be freaking out. They’re one step ahead of us, Abi,” Kaden says, leaning back.
“We know they’ll come for us,” Blake says. “We’ll just come and go in pairs. No one is going to be on their own until those fuckers are taken care of.”
“Classes and back here,” Kaden adds, brooking no argument.
“How are you?” Celine asks me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I admit, realizing I might be in denial.
Blake groans and stands up, heading for the door.
“Hey, asshole, where do you think you’re going alone?” Kaden asks, standing up as well. He glances at Celine, who gives him a small nod, indicating it’s okay for him to leave with Blake. She mouths that she’ll go with us girls.
Hunter leaves for classes next, and Dane groans before rushing to kiss Abigail one more time. He calls after Hunter, telling him to wait.
“Dane didn’t sleep all night. I hate those worms,” Abigail says.
“I expected the room to catch fire. I thought flames would come out of his brain from so much thinking,” Celine sighs.
Seeing them exchanging worried looks pains me. My friends deserve all the happiness in the world. Knowing who’s responsible for their worry makes me wanna kill both of those assholes myself.
“They worry. It’s a challenging time,” Bailey gives.
“So how was your night?” asks Abi, slurping from a smoothie.
“Nothing more happened between us so… same old,” I reply.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Celine asks.
“Blake and I… I don’t even know, but can we change the subject?”
“Are we postponing your dating plan?” Abi asks.
“Of course,” Celine says.
“It would be for the best,” says Bailey.
“Why should I? I want to live for as long as I have—”
“Don’t you dare think like that,” Celine interrupts, wrapping her arms around me. Abi and Bailey join the hug.
“Thanks, girls.”
It’s easier to go through difficult times with friends who feel more like family. Before Celine, I never had a best friend. Now, I have three, and I will not lose any of them.
Reaching the main campus, we wave at each other as we go to our respective departments. My eyes land on Blake, watching me from an alcove next to the entry door.
My feet carry me to him. “What are you doing here? You should be in class.”
“Go to yours first.”
“I can’t stop you from watching over me, but at least do it so I can’t see you. You wouldn’t want to give me the impression you care.”
“This is fucking serious, Mia. We don’t have time for you to be petty.”
Such an insensitive asshole.
I poke a finger in his chest. “You’re not my boyfriend, you’re not my brother, you’re not even my friend.”
“Don’t you dare reduce our…”
I jut my chin at him. “Our what?”
His lips press together in a line. “Nothing.”
“Exactly. And just a heads up. I’m going to date and do whatever the bloody hell I want because I want to live a bit before your sperm donor catches me.”
I storm away when he says, “Good luck with that.”
Infuriating man. Yet throughout the day, his words repeat in my head like a broken record.
I am fuming by the time classes end. Outside, I plant my ass on a bench, determined to find a guy who can take my mind off of Blake and my current situation. Hey, by the way , someone wants to kill me. Would you like to date me in the meantime?
That wouldn’t work, but whenever a guy looks at me, I smile back at him, encouraging him to approach. Yet , no one does. Instead, they steal furtive glances and then hurry off.
Huffing, I stride over to a brown-haired guy. Dressed in business casual attire, complete with a blazer and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder, he looks like he’s got his life under control. He glances at me and says, “I don’t want any trouble. You’re Blake’s girl, right?”
“No, why would you think that?”
He looks around and then takes a step back when he sees Tyson and Blake deep in conversation. “Sorry,” he gulps and scurries away.
Nostrils flaring, I march toward Blake and Tyson. I step up close to Blake, lifting my eyes to him. God, he’s tall, all raw masculinity and strength . No one does it better for me than him. That’s why I ditched my romance books—I was waiting for someone who could match those heroes, only to have mine not want anything romantic to do with me.
“I’ve heard something interesting.”
“And that would be, Silver?” his voice lowers, all deep and ending on a husky tone that has me stuttering a breath.
“I just had an interesting conversation with a guy who claims I’m your girl.”
“Interesting.”
“That was my first thought as well…” I look at Tyson. “Do you know anything about that?”
He steals a glance at Blake, keeping his mouth shut. At least he has the decency not to lie to my face—time to change my strategy.
“Do you find me attractive?” I ask Tyson.
“Don’t answer that,” Blake warns.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’re playing with fire,” Blake warns him.
“You want to play, Blake? Let’s play. I will find that guy who won’t be intimidated by you.”
“Good luck.” He has the audacity to say again.
“I don’t need luck. I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
I don’t even know what I am actually implying, but when I catch those greens of his burning, I guess he understood my message.
He leans in, saying in my ear, “Do that, and I’ll leave a trail of bodies behind you. I need to fucking focus to keep you alive.”
“And I want to live,” I snap, not looking back, knowing Blake won’t leave me alone and vulnerable.
On my way to the house, my phone rings. When I see that it’s my dad, I smile and pick it up.
“How’s my favorite daughter doing?”
I giggle. “You can upgrade me to your favorite twin?”
“Shh, we don’t want your brother to get jealous.”
He’s trying to lighten the mood, but a sigh escapes my lips.
“Want to come over? I miss spending time with my daughter.”
“I am good, Dad. It’s just…”
“We’re putting all the resources at our disposal to find them.”
“I know. It’s just a lot at the moment.”
I can’t believe the whole Blake situation makes me more anxious than the threat to my life. I wish there were a manual on how to navigate your first love. I’m so invested in everything Blake and these emotional highs and lows that everything else is merely a second thought.
“There’s more? Boy trouble?”
One boy, to be more accurate.
“Who is the asshole upsetting my wonderful daughter?”
A laugh tumbles out. “Thank you, Dad. I needed that.”
“You can come and live with me. It’s near campus.”
“Thanks, but I want to stay with my friends.”
“Why did you have to grow up so quickly?” he sighs, and my chest warms with fond memories. After my mother died, he tried to fill the void, embracing both a fatherly and motherly role. He was always there, even with the mission taking over, but I think it was also how he coped with my mom’s loss.
“Blame it on the circle of life, Dad. Love you. Talk to you soon,” I say and hang up.
I catch sight of Blake in my peripheral vision. He’s not even trying to hide. Leaning against an oak tree with ankles crossed, he looks mouthwatering. His shirt stretches over a muscular frame, revealing the shadows of his abs, and his jeans fit his strong thighs to perfection. The bomber jacket hugs his sculpted body just right.
“Who were you talking to?”
“None of your business.”
He has always kept his distance, but ever since the news of Felix and Caleb’s escape broke, it’s like he’s everywhere. My weak system can’t process such high doses of him all at once.
“Blake, I am not your responsibility.”
“I’m making your safety my responsibility. You haven’t answered me.”
“Maybe I was talking to my date.”
He cocks his head, his eyes boring into mine. “You found someone who’s willing to die to be with you? Because that would be the only guy I’d be okay with you dating.”
“I have needs you kind of interrupted since you crashed back into my life.”
His jaw ticks, his features pulling taut. I am getting to him. Good.
“I want names.”
“Why? They were only good for one thing…”
Insinuating I have a sex life when I don’t is a horrible thing to do, but his jealousy feeds my hunger for his attention. That sick part of me that would do anything to get it. Why do I insist? He’s never going to crack. But he did once . I ban that dangerous thought just as quickly as it popped out. I don’t even know if I am ready to take on someone like him.
He cuts the distance between us, his hand wrapping around my throat—not squeezing, just resting there. My pulse skyrockets and I am just short of hyperventilating. But the scariest part is, it’s not fear that I’m feeling. A shiver travels down my spine, leaving a trail of lust behind.
“Stop provoking me. One day, I might give in, and believe me, it won’t be the missionary, lovemaking kind of sex.”
No, it would be hard and rough. I want him unleashed. I want him to snap and give me everything he keeps contained.
“Maybe I like it…”
“Maybe you should take your pretty ass home and stop playing with a beast.”
Yet, he’s still holding me. The green in his eyes liquefies, taking on a darker tone. I want them only and permanently on me.
I don’t know how long our eyes stay locked on each other, and I don’t care either. Everything else vanishes, dissolving like puffs of smoke. It’s just us in a frail bubble that could burst any moment. He could break my heart into a thousand pieces, and I’d take it because there are moments like this, chock-full of intensity and intimacy, when I feel there’s more.
He cuts the connection first. He’s an expert at that, but I am done taking it. “I retract my apology.”
He groans low.
“You’re a coward. You feel this between us just like I do. You want me but stop yourself. I’m done waiting for you. I don’t even care anymore. You’ll be the one to regret not giving us a chance when you could have.”
I walk away, and I don’t turn back. It feels good. I hope he thinks of my words, has a sleepless night, and dreams of me with open eyes. But since he doesn’t sleep, the damn vampire sucks the life essence out of me.
I know he’s behind me; my heart picks up at his nearness. My skin breaks into goose bumps whenever he’s close, and it only gets worse when I feel his gaze traveling over my body. I hope he stares at my ass and salivates at what he will never have.
Walking into our house, I go to my room to drop off my bag and jacket. I should go through my notes from the day’s classes, but that can wait.
Downstairs, I put all the ingredients I need on the kitchen counter. Baking has always anchored me. I did it with my mom and continued to do it even after she was gone. I feel her presence when I bake, and that helps whenever I miss her or when life becomes too much.
I hear the door open and close. I don’t have to look behind me to know who it is.
“I’m heading to the gym.”
Once again, my resolve crumbles. I know I’m pathetic, but because I believe in self-love, I give myself some grace. Feelings are not rational.
“Preparing to fight all my potential dates?” I ask and freeze when a deep laugh rumbles out of him.
I turn to him, enraptured by the raspy sound. He laughs with his whole body; his features lose that hardness, and his eyes flicker. I clutch my chest, the image so potent that it makes my heart want to climb up my throat and drop at his feet in awe.
“What’s so funny?” I ask breathlessly.
“That you’d think they stand a chance.”
I don’t know what pushes me in this moment, maybe closure or simply curiosity, but I blurt out. “What am I lacking? I’m aware you can’t choose who you like… I just…”
Every trace of levity vanishes from his face. “Never ever fucking think you lack something. Every motherfucking asshole on this planet would be lucky for you to give him the time of the day.”
“Okay, then…” But what I don’t say rings even louder: Why won’t you give me a chance, then?
“My answer won’t change. I am too fucked up for you. If I didn’t care about you, I would have taken you whenever you looked at me with those bewitching eyes. You’re not the one lacking—I am.”
Lucky me. He cares about me. I wish he wouldn’t, so at least I would get to experience a bit of my fantasy. He offered me the most awful closure— It’s not you, it’s me —but I’ll take it.
And then, he’s gone, always leaving things unfinished, the king of grumpy males. Whatever. It’s not like I’m not used to his abrupt departures. I turn around and prepare the muffins, but for the first time, it’s more of an automatic process than anything else. I add chocolate chips in some, white chocolate and raspberries to others, and my classics—blueberry and almond.
I take them out of the oven and place them on the marble island to cool. Knowing my friends, they will dig in quickly until there’s nothing left. It wouldn’t be the first time I don’t get to have one, but that never bothered me. Seeing them enjoy my baking is the best reward.
Blake is in the gym, surely punching the bag. It’s his go-to activity.
I never thought I’d be drawn to violence, which is absurd because my father trained both me and my brother. I can defend myself, but I never liked it. That changed when I saw Blake fighting––a monument of muscles, so damn graceful yet lethal. What started with me sneaking around and getting intel on him quickly turned into an obsession. He not only caught me every time, but he was flirty and charming and never called me out. Plus, he did the same, so it was kind of fun.
Before he left, I went to every one of his fights. It was pure adrenaline, my heart beating like crazy, worried he’d get beaten, but no one ever came close. But nothing compared to my worry about his alcohol problem.
He has always been a mystery wrapped in a conundrum. Since he returned, I haven’t seen him drink or jump at the first opportunity to get in the ring.
It’s the nurturer side in me. I’ve tried many times to switch it off, especially for him, but I’ve failed. He called it my savior syndrome. It’s not that, but I can’t just shut off my instinct of worrying and caring for the people who are important to me.
I place three muffins on a plate and walk down the basement stairs. Opening the door to the gym, I peek inside, watching Blake in his element. Sweat drips down his torso as he swings from left to right, rapidly changing hooks. The bag flies back from the raw force, rattling on its hinges.
I bite down the awed sound that wants to escape my mouth. It must have come out anyway because he cocks his head toward me.
“Who’s the stalker now?”
I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool while every atom in my body threatens to overheat.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I made muffins.” I lift the plate to make my point and as a peace offering. Friends. One day, we’ll be genuine friends. Hopefully, it won’t take me a lifetime to get past my romantic feelings for him.
He jerks his chin at the chocolate chip one. “Is that for me?”
“All three are for you.”
He approaches me, and my hormones go into overdrive, seeing all those sculpted muscles on display. “You look as if you’re photoshopped,” I groan.
He chuckles, and the asshole flexes his muscles as if he needs to before he digs right into the chocolate chip muffin. Closing his eyes momentarily, a sound of delight parts his lips.
“You have me addicted to these, but everywhere I went for some, they wouldn’t even come close.”
I don’t even know what to say. His brows furrow , meaning that he said more than he intended.
“Eat one. Those assholes jump on them without thinking about whether you’ve had any.”
“It’s fine.”
And then he does something that makes my knees weak.
He picks up the white chocolate and raspberry muffin and brings it to my lips. “Open for me, Silver.”
I do, completely and irrevocably under his spell.
It’s just food, but in this moment, it feels like so much more.