Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
TWO WEEKS LATER
KASS
That night with Blake and Fia was more than my imagination could have conjured up. I couldn't even tell you how many rounds we went, but that's what happens when you give three individuals with high sex drives free rein of each other’s bodies for an evening.
When we took our first break, I worried that Blake would start shutting down.
I knew I’d fucked up when I saw the look on her face as I weaved her hand into mine just before I came inside Fia.
I don't know what came over me. She was there, and I couldn't help but connect with her in that moment.
Fuck, she was so beautiful, and I couldn't get enough of her.
Shortly after, she ran off to the kitchen with Fia, and I stayed in the bedroom to give them a moment.
I'm sure they had a post-sex debrief, but once they returned, all seemed to be normal again.
So whatever Fia said to her successfully shook her out of her funk.
At the end of the night, around five in the morning, I went home alone.
Clover was spending the night with Winnie at Raina's house, so I walked into an empty house and went to bed.
I had already showered at the girls' apartment—well, we all showered together—so I was able to crash as soon as I stepped into my bedroom.
I was exhausted and slept until noon, when Raina dropped off Clover.
It's been two weeks now, and the communication between the three of us has been minimal. Fia, of course, sent a lovely text the following day, thanking me for coming over and letting me know she had a great time. She welcomed me back any time, to which Blake replied:
Blake
I'll be traveling for work a lot, so don't get your hopes up that I'll be there.
To be honest, as much as I enjoyed Fia, I can't picture myself meeting up with her without Blake.
Something about that woman lights a spark in me that I thought was dead for a long time.
A spark that I thought died with Daisy. I wish she didn't, because saying she's playing hard to get is a painful understatement.
I don't know if she's actually busy with work or just moving on, but she hasn't responded to any of my messages, either in the group chat or just between us.
I wish I weren’t so damn drawn to her. Why is it always the girls who shove their emotions down into a bottomless pit that I have to go and become obsessed with?
For years, it was Daisy, the love of my life.
Now it's fucking Blake, who wouldn't be caught in a committed relationship if her life depended on it.
But the more I learn about her, the more intrigued I am.
She masquerades as an open book, saying that she's always open and honest about her intentions—which she is—but that doesn't mean she's honest with herself about how she really feels.
That girl has more layers than a damn onion, whether she wants to admit it or not.
I learned a few more things about her that night.
One was that she loves to suck dick.
Two is that she truly is bi. I've found that some women say they're bi, but when you watch them in a group setting, it seems like they less like the idea of it and more so the attention they get from men when they touch other women.
Not Blake. There were times that she was so into Fia that she acted like I wasn't even there.
It didn't bother me, though. I loved watching her, regardless of how much of her attention I was getting in return.
The third thing I learned isn't something that brought me joy like the first two.
When exploring every inch of her gorgeous body, I spotted a Medusa tattoo that I hadn't noticed before.
Having done several of them in my career, I know all about the disgusting truth they represent.
I wish I were ignorant to what they mean because the thought of anyone taking advantage of this woman makes me see red.
And the thought of someone being able to hurt a woman as strong as Blake reminds me just how shitty men can be.
People think bad things only happen to women who are weak. That tattoo on her calf is a sure sign that whoever spreads that lie doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, and they’ve clearly never met a woman like B.
Having a daughter of my own makes it a reality I find incredibly hard to swallow.
If anyone ever touched Clover without her permission, I'd kill them.
I feel the same sense of protection toward all the women who come into my shop and ask for a Medusa tattoo, but seeing it on Blake struck a chord in me that I didn't even know was attached to her.
I wish it weren’t. It would make her disinterest in me a lot easier to accept.
But as it is now, I haven't accepted it.
A part of me still feels like she's just scared and denying the way she feels about me.
I'd love to say that time will tell, but I don't know when or if I'll ever see her again.
I have a feeling that if Blake doesn't want to be found, she finds a way to not be.
B
I haven’t talked to Kass since that night at my apartment. That’s normally how I do things. So why am I itching to talk to him? Shit, if this is how most people feel after sleeping with someone, I don't know why they'd ever do it again. These feelings of uncertainty and longing suck.
Fuck this.
I shake these foreign feelings out of my head and focus back on what I was doing. What... What the fuck was I doing?
"Do you?"
That's right. I was entertaining my new bestie, Clover, while she's supposed to be working on her painting. It's the last day of class, and the students are all working on their finishing touches before we all gather to discuss everyone's work.
"Do I what?"
"Have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?"
Right. That’s what annoyingly ran my brain train down Kass’s track.
"I do not."
She gets this look on her face that makes me think she's plotting my demise.
"Why do you ask?"
She shrugs her little shoulders, one of her overall straps falling down. I reach out and slide it back into place. "I don't know. It's just a thing I hear adults ask each other sometimes."
I try to hide my smile by standing behind her. "I've actually only ever had one before. Do you?"
"No. Boyfriends and girlfriends seem kind of shitty."
She says it so matter-of-factly that I can't help but feel a small sense of pride.
I know she's not saying it because of anything I've said to her, but the fact that she can see through the bullshit reminds me why I started to like her so much.
Over the seven weeks I've spent teaching Clover, she's really grown on me.
It's not because I'm suddenly gaining a soft spot for children.
It's because she's not like any child I've ever met.
She reminds me of myself. So, call me a narcissist, but it makes her the exception to my dislike for children.
Just because I'm curious how she came to that conclusion, I ask, "Why do you think that?"
"My best friend had a boyfriend once. She was always telling me how annoying he was. I don't get why she even liked him; she never said anything nice about him."
"Well, eight-year-old boys are pretty annoying."
"They're both twelve. But he acted like he was eight with how stupid he was."
"Fair enough."
"And then there's my mom and dad…" she trails off.
"Divorced?"
"No. I think they'd have to be married to do that."
"That is typically how that works."
"I don't think they were ever married. I never saw a picture of my mom in a white dress."
"You mean like a picture of them at their wedding?"
"Yeah. And I always heard them yelling at night. If love is like that, it sounds exhausting. When do you sleep?"
"I'm sorry you had to listen to them fight." I run my hand through her hair and start braiding it. I'm not sure why. I just feel the need to comfort her right now, like I would with any of my friends.
"I don't think they were fighting."
I pause. "Didn't you say you heard them yelling?"
"Yeah. They were yelling, but they seemed to be having fun, if that makes any sense. Like they were playing a game or something."
"Ahhh. Yes, I'm sure they were having a lot of fun.
" I'm glad I'm standing behind her because my poker face is nonexistent right now.
Dear god, this kid cracks me up. "That's one of the fun parts about being in a relationship.
But you can have that kind of fun with people you're not dating, too. That's what I do."
I probably shouldn't be telling her this, but she's so ignorant, there's no way she gets what I'm saying.
"Can you do that with friends, too?"
"Sure."
"Do you do it with your friends?"
"I do. I also sometimes do it with people I don't even like, but that's because I have issues."
"Issues?"
"You know, like emotionally."
"I don't think you have issues. I think you're pretty cool."
"Thanks, kid." I tie off the end of her braid with the extra ponytail I carry on my wrist. "Alright, I’d better go check on some of the less skilled students."
"That is your job."
"Brat." I take the end of her blonde braid and tickle her face with it, making her giggle as she tries to swat my hand away.
"Go help her." She points to a middle-aged woman across the room who's painting...I actually have no clue what it's supposed to be
"Her painting looks like a bu—" I quickly cover Clover's mouth with my hand, since she's talking loud enough for everyone to hear, and I'm pretty sure I know what she was about to say.
I lean down and whisper in her ear. "A butthole? Yeah, it really does."
The moment I release her mouth, she erupts into laughter, causing most of the heads in the room to turn towards us.
"Don't mind Clover, she's been huffing too much paint."
She can barely get the words out through her laugh, "What's huffing?"
"I'll tell you when you're older." Not wanting to say anything else that she might repeat to her parents, I pat her head and walk over to another student.