Chapter Twelve #4
“Not into that, then?” She laughed. Blake blushed pink right up to his ears.
What an innocent guy; probably never thought about those sorts of things.
She could probably scandalize the hell out of him if she wanted, but she took pity.
“I sent you a request on Venmo. It’s not that bad.
” They dipped silently into the same bowl of syrup in the dim glow of the kitchen, and Blake pulled out his phone and started scrolling. His lips tipped down.
“It’s not that bad,” Maggie repeated.
“Hmm?” Blake looked up. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just missed some messages. I had my phone on Do Not Disturb.”
Figured, Blake would be the kind of guy to keep his phone away when out with friends. “That’s nice of you.”
He shrugged, pancake poised above the syrup bowl.
“Feels like the right thing to do.” He tucked his phone away again.
“Like now.” He gave her a smile that made her feel warm right down to her belly, and oh shit, there went those feelings again.
Maggie reached for a second pancake and leaned against the kitchen counter, and Blake did the same.
The warm, sweet-smelling room, the sudden influx of carbs, and sleepiness came over her like a wave.
She finished her second pancake and yawned.
This made Blake yawn, and he laughed as he blinked away sudden yawn-tears. “Stop it,” he said. “It’s already past my bedtime.”
“Midnight pancakes are going to put us into a carb coma.” Maggie hesitated over the two remaining pancakes. “We’ve gotta finish them.”
“I know. It’s our duty to breakfast foods everywhere.” Blake sighed dramatically. They each picked up a final pancake.
After a few moments of quiet, Blake cleared his throat and coughed once, like he was uncomfortable but trying to hide it. “Thanks,” he finally said. “For pancakes. And for going to the gala with me. It’s a good friend thing to do.”
Maggie gave him an awkward shrug, face warm. “Don’t mention it. It’s a good time. Free food, probably open bar, what’s not to like? And it’s for a good cause.”
“Right.” Blake smiled, and it looked genuine enough that her heart ached.
He had no idea she wanted to fuck him.
She had no idea he wanted to fuck her.
Blake took his time washing his face, using too-cold water to soothe a whole body’s worth of hormones and residual drunkenness.
He’d had these thoughts about Maggie too much lately, and tonight, pressed up in the kitchen with her, making jokes and eating pancakes, he’d kept thinking about what it would be like to kiss her.
And not stop at kissing. He thought about hoisting her up on that kitchen counter and stepping between her thighs, mouthing his way down her neck and chest, pulling off her clothes as he went.
He thought about dropping to his knees on the hard linoleum floor and licking her sweetness like syrup as she grabbed his hair and called his name.
A shower would be a better move. A cold shower.
Blake stood under the cold stream of water, his half erection finally subsiding, and he started to feel sober again. That was when she knocked.
“Come in,” he called, and the door squeaked open.
“Can I brush my teeth?” she asked. “While you’re in there?”
He sighed, but he was smiling. “I guess we’ve broken the bathroom barrier.”
“I’m not going to do anything unsavory.” She sounded appalled that he’d suggest it. “I had to pee that one time. But it goes no further than that. Peeing barely counts.”
“It’s fine. You know, I was going to be out in a minute.” He was glad he wasn’t jerking off.
“Sometimes you take a long shower.” Then her electric toothbrush turned on.
Blake waited until she finished, turning the water warmer once he started to get chilled. Eventually, she was done. “Stay in there,” she said. “I’m gonna pee.”
This time he had to laugh. “I swear to god, Maggie.”
“It’s the before-bed pee!” she said defensively. “It’s not my fault you got a condo with only one bathroom! And I was very clear that peeing barely counts as breaking the bathroom barrier.”
“You know, you’re holding me hostage in here.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She finished up, then washed her hands, and apologized once more before the door clicked shut behind her.
There was something endearing about her, even when she was interrupting his showers.
He’d have to do the same to her sometime, see how she liked it.
He grinned at the thought. She’d be stuck in the shower, naked behind this curtain …
but then his body took more interest, and oh drat, that wouldn’t do at all.
When Blake left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Maggie was in her room with the door slightly ajar and the light still on.
From the hallway, he could see her bare feet resting on the rumpled sheets and blankets at the foot of her bed.
That intimate glance did something to him, and he couldn’t stop picturing her as he went around the living room doing his nightly plant checks.
She got tangled up in his mind and he needed to untangle her.
Finally, when he’d confirmed everyone’s soil had the correct moisture level, he retreated to his room.
He changed into pajama pants and a soft, worn T-shirt, his favorite sleeping clothes when it was cool out, then settled onto his bed with his phone. He’d seen Rose’s message while he was in the kitchen with Maggie but hadn’t responded yet. The app said she was online. Busy evening, he replied.
That’s OK. I ended up doing something else.
It sounded like a dismissal, but before he could say goodnight, she wrote, It was cold tonight! It was a comment about the weather, but also an invitation to conversation, and he didn’t mind chatting a bit more.
He smiled at the screen. I’ve had multiple pumpkin coffees at Dunkin this month.
No Starbucks pumpkin spice lattes? You’re a Dunkin guy?
Hey, I’m from Boston. It’s required. Blake couldn’t believe her words. Starbucks, really?
I was testing you, she wrote back.
He thought about asking how long she’d lived in the city. Was that too personal? Some people would say there was nothing more personal than the Dunkin v. Starbucks preference. While he was thinking, though, she wrote another message. You’ve lived here all your life?
Maybe they were getting more personal. Funny how knowing someone’s deepest sexual fantasies felt less personal than knowing about their childhood. Born and raised in the great state of Mass. I’ve lived in a few different places here, though. Then, since she’d opened the door, he added, You?
Same, she wrote. And to be honest, I like Starbucks and Dunkin the same.
Blasphemy, he replied, still smiling. He always smiled when chatting with her, even when they were talking nonsense. He leaned back against the stacked-up pillows on his headboard. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.
Me too, she replied.
He wanted to invite her to meet up, but it still felt too soon. I like talking with you.
Me, too. I look forward to this, she replied.
Blake was already getting too sleepy to continue this conversation, and morning was going to hurt, but he didn’t want to say goodbye yet. This thread of contact felt good. It especially felt good after having something similar with Maggie earlier.
I wish I were more awake to talk more, he typed, honestly. Or fool around.
I wish I were more awake to get fooled around with, she wrote back. It’s OK. There will be other nights.
There would be. She was right. Tonight was just one night.
He paused, then sent another message. Can we try tomorrow?
Work isn’t too busy for that? She sent a wink.
Work isn’t too busy for that. Playtime with Rose would be a perfect distraction. Put me in your schedule.