Three
Logan
Blake beats me to the restaurant, already inside when I enter.
Standing up from his chair in the far right corner, he waves me over, and I approach the table with slow, cautious steps.
No one pops out of hiding and there’s nothing waiting for me on my chair when I sit down.
Blake hasn’t gotten any drinks yet, so I don’t have to wonder if he slipped something like MiraLAX in mine.
“Am I late or something?” I shift in my chair, shuffling the menu around. “You weren’t waiting here too long, were you?” I wouldn’t be too upset or feel the least bit bad if he was.
Waving a hand at me, he loosens the purple cashmere scarf around his neck.
This modeling career of his must really be taking off, or maybe one of his many sugar daddies purchased it for him.
My stomach knots when I picture my dad’s face.
Why am I here again? Because I’m trying hard to remain the better person in all this.
“You’re right on time. I’m the one who got here super early, not wanting to run into traffic on the way back from a meet and greet with this model agency.”
“I see. How’d it go?”
“Good.” He twists the napkin in front of him. “At least I think it did. They seemed to like me and they said I was exactly what they were looking for. I’ll know more tomorrow hopefully.”
“That’s great,” I say, searching for a waiter or waitress. “Has anyone come by to take your drink order yet?”
“Yeah but I asked her to come back when you got here since I didn’t think you’d want a carton of chocolate milk and that’s the only thing I ever remember seeing you drink from the cafeteria.”
I snort, shoulders relaxing. Is this what it’s like to have casual talk with your bully? “I actually wouldn’t mind some of that cafeteria chocolate milk right about now. That stuff used to be the shit.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know.” He rests an elbow on the table, his fingers brushing over his chin. “Me and dairy products never got along.”
“You mean you’re allergic?” Looks like he’s not so perfect after all.
“No. Lactose intolerant, but might as well be. One milkshake can have me down in bed for days,” he says between chuckles.
The waitress, Tina, stands between us, smiling with her eyes pointed down. “You two ready to order your food too, or just your drinks?”
Blake blinks at me and I look down at the menu, nodding. “I’m ready if he is.”
“Oh . . .” He quickly shuts the menu, rubbing a hand over the back. “Yeah, I can be ready. Carne asada tacos for me please.”
“And you?” Tina flits her gaze at me and I lift my menu.
“Chicken quesadilla.”
Collecting both our menus, she stares at us blankly.
“Oh, the drinks.” Blake’s cheeks pinken. He’s so human right now. Exactly the side I was wanting to see. “I’ll have a Diet Coke,” he finishes.
“I’ll have water with lemon.”
“Great. I’ll be back with y’alls drinks after I put your orders in.”
“Thanks,” we say in unison and Blake blushes again.
This isn’t what I expected coming here with him.
I’m not sure what that even was at this point.
There’s this other Blake outside his friends and outside the bar.
His eyes have this warm glow when he laughs and it isn’t the mocking sound I’m used to.
No this is . . . pleasant. I’m drawn in more, unable to turn my eyes away.
What the hell is happening to me? Oh, he’s good, and I’m here falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.
“So what brought you back?” He leans back in his seat, lowering his hands in his lap.
“You first,” I blurt.
He laughs and huffs out a breath. “My answer’s pretty simple. I missed my mom, and when I saw all these job opportunities nearby I thought I’d see if I could land one so I could be close to her again.”
“That’s sweet. Mine isn’t complicated, but I wouldn’t call it simple either. My parents needed help with the farm and I wasn’t really feeling the whole college life after all. My dreams are kind of pointed elsewhere now.”
“I’m guessing it’s not construction,” he muses.
“No.” I let out a short laugh. “I only told you that, hoping you’d eventually stop asking me questions.”
“That’s fair.” Chuckling, his gaze follows Tina’s hand as she sets his drink in front of him. “You planning to take after your dad, then? Follow in his footsteps like my old man wanted me to do?”
“Not exactly.” My face wrinkles and I move my drink closer to me, giving Tina a silent thank you before she takes off back to the kitchen. “Or at all, actually. I’m going to be a cop.”
His eyes widen and he slowly sips his Coke from the straw I didn’t see him with before. “A cop?” He tilts his head, narrowing in on me. “I can kinda see it.”
“Yeah?”
“You got the right build for one, and I can see you shoving someone against the wall, forcing them into a pair of handcuffs.” He waggles his brows and I bite back a laugh.
Is he flirting with me? I didn’t think I’d be here a second time once he figured out who I was.
His feet knock against mine and I don’t realize I’m leaning closer until my body’s hitting the table.
Am I enjoying it? No fucking way. Not with him.
Anyone but him. Hanging out is one thing, but hoping for this to go further without any messed?up vendetta is pushing it.
“Yeah.” My gaze drops to the way my arms are bulging from my shirt sleeves. “I guess all that working out in my dorm in between classes paid off.”
“I’ll say.” His tone is seductive as he wraps his pink tongue around the straw.
My cock twitches in the confinement of my underwear and I swallow down the groan threatening to climb up my throat. Damn my traitorous body. “So, modeling, huh?” I say, trying to change the subject.
“Yeah.” He sucks on his bottom lip. “I wanted to travel around the first year or two after high school. Someone I met in California helped land me a job and I didn’t want to stop.”
“That’s the best way to discover what you didn’t realize you were looking for.”
“Yeah.” He licks his lips, sliding them up and down his straw.
My skin grows tight and I avert my gaze, letting it fall everywhere but him. “Let me guess, an underwear ad?”
Shaking his head, a laugh bubbles out of him. “No, but close. An alcohol ad.”
“How the hell is that close?” I sputter, feeling more at ease in a conversation than I have in a long time. Again, what the fuck?
“I don’t know.” His eyes lift and he laughs again. “I guess it’s not really, but I was in my underwear when they had me shoot the photos, so it could count.”
“I see. Because no one can enjoy a shot of vodka fully dressed.”
He spits his drink, eyes watering as he laughs harder. We talk some more and the conversation dies down when the food comes. Other than a few comments made and him asking to steal from my plate, we’re mostly quiet while we eat.
At the end of our meal, he reaches for the check, and I place my hand on his. “You don’t really have to pay for it all.”
His eyes hold onto mine and he tugs the check harder, breaking away from my grasp. “Yes, I do. I invited you here and this is supposed to be me making it up to you, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” I just wasn’t sure if I needed it anymore, as I consider leaving the past in the past for good when his foot hits mine again, this time sliding up my ankle.
“You doing anything this Saturday?” His blue eyes sparkle.
“Yeah . . . I mean no. I’m not.”
“Would you let me take you to a make-up movie then? You can pick everything again.”
I might regret this later. “Okay, but you can choose everything this time and I’ll meet you there.”
“I can pick you up,” he offers.
Agreeing to hang out with him again is dumb enough as it is, no way am I going to allow myself to be trapped in a car with him on top of that.
Not to mention he’ll have the upper hand, and what if that’s when he decides to show his true colors again, dumping me off in the middle of nowhere. “I’d prefer to take my own car.”
“Okay. No big deal. I’ll text you the info when I know it and you can meet me there. I’ll need your number, though.” He nudges at my phone as I’m pulling it out to check the time.
“Oh, uh . . . yeah, okay. Add yours and I’ll text you when I get home.”
“You sure this isn’t your way of getting out of it?”
I roll my eyes, sliding the phone across the table. “I’m sure. I’ll text you before we leave the restaurant.”
After typing in his number, he gives me back the phone, and I text him. “Told you I was sure.”
That earns a smile from him, and when the waitress brings him back his card, we walk out of the restaurant together.
Standing in front of one another on the sidewalk, we share an awkward stare, and his face flushes as he moves forward with a hug.
His arms fling around my neck as he stands on his tiptoes and I don’t remember him being so much smaller than me.
To think I once found him so intimidating and scary.
To think I thought he could actually have the upper hand while we were alone.
Whether he’s changed or not, I have, and I’ll be here to remind him if he needs me to. His little friends also. Hayden may be the same size as me, but there are plenty of ways for me to make him feel like nothing.