Chapter 20
Juliet
As Wednesday draws nearer, my anxiety grows, sitting low and constant in my stomach.
I’ve rehearsed the conversation one hundred different ways in my head—while I’m getting Tinsley organised for school or cooking her dinner, in the shower, lying awake at two in the morning staring at the ceiling.
Letting Blake see what I went through won’t be easy.
It’ll change things between us, adding a weight of something more serious.
We’ve been careful not to label what we are, but this feels like heading in a direction that makes it impossible to pretend it’s only casual.
I know Blake has his own demons, but he’s never given me a reason to think he’ll hurt me or Tinsley.
He’s shown up time and time again—with the anaphylaxis, the preschool, her bedroom, her party—before he even knew I was the woman from Euphoria.
But my history has me scared. I didn’t see Edward’s red flags until it was too late.
He was charismatic and smooth and wormed his way into my life by preying on my vulnerabilities.
On the other hand, Blake is cautiously attentive, never pushes me to do anything I’m not ready for, and lets me set the pace.
We talk every day and text constantly. He sends me voice notes during his breaks or when he’s walking to his car before and after training.
We send each other silly memes and talk late into the night.
It’s ridiculous how much space he’s taken up in my life in such a short time.
When I can’t see him, I miss him, and that’s what terrifies me.
I’m falling for him, and I’m not sure I’ll survive the fallout if this all goes south.
Telling him about Edward and the domestic violence means showing him the most fragile parts of me. The parts that still flinch when a door slams too hard, go into fight or flight at raised voices, or panic at the sound of floorboards creaking in a silent house.
Blake knows I left a bad marriage.
He doesn’t know how small I became to survive it.
What if he decides it’s all too much? That it’s too heavy? What if it’s too complicated for someone who should be enjoying uni, soccer, and nights out with his mates?
I’m scared he’ll look at me differently—I won’t be able to handle seeing pity in those beautiful blue eyes.
Blake sees me as strong and capable. He tells me all the time how lucky Tinsley is.
What happens if that illusion shatters?
I trust him more than I’ve trusted anyone in years. He’s patient and always makes sure I feel safe. When he wraps his arms around me, there’s no force in it. He’s gentle and makes me feel secure.
My only red flag for Blake is that he doesn’t appear to have any, though I’m not na?ve enough to believe that. Whatever he wants to tell me has been weighing on him since our second night at Euphoria. Obviously reconnecting with his sister has brought it all up.
Maybe we’re both as damaged as each other, but will that be what brings us together? Or will it tear us apart?
The thoughts are still rolling around in my head when I answer the front door on Wednesday morning. It’s early—I only just got home from dropping Tinsley at school—and I thought Blake would sleep for at least a few more hours after completing two night shifts.
My heart races in anticipation of seeing him, but my smile turns into a frown when I see someone unexpected on my front step.
Everett rubs the back of his neck, his eyes downcast. A pit of dread settles in my stomach.
“Sorry to drop in unannounced,” he says quietly. “Can I come in?”
Swallowing, I step back and give him space to enter, closing the door behind him. My pulse echoes in my ears as I watch him walk to the couch and sit down.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, perching on the ottoman at the end of the couch.
“I don’t know,” he says, still not looking at me.
My chest tightens. Does he know about me and Blake? Did he figure it out when we disappeared together at the restaurant? Is he here to warn me away from his friend?
Anxiety claws at my throat, taking away my ability to breathe. I pray Blake doesn’t show up while Everett’s here. I don’t think it will end well.
“Have you ever thought about leaving Beckford?” he asks, his question jolting me from my spiral.
“Wh-what?” I stammer.
He finally drags his defeated gaze to mine. “Would you consider taking Tinsley and leaving?”
The room spins and my stomach swoops violently. This has all come out of nowhere. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I’m worried Dad’s planning something. If you want to take Tinsley and disappear, I’ll help. Money, a place to live, whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”
“We can’t. Our lives are here. My friends. You. If I run, we won’t be able to stop. Your father won’t let us go. He’ll send someone to find us.”
A shiver racks through my body at the thought of what he’d do to me if I took her and ran.
I shake my head. “It’s not an option.”
His body slumps as he releases a heavy sigh.
“If he tries something, we’ll get a good lawyer. We’ll fight him.”
“Yeah.” He runs a hand over his face.
“Where’s this coming from? You haven’t said anything after his last two visits with Tinsley. Did he say something?”
“He’s been asking questions,” Everett says. “There’s nothing specific that I can pinpoint, but I have a really bad feeling, and I can’t let anything bad happen to Tinsley.” His hazel eyes, so similar to his father’s, meet mine. “Or you.”
“I appreciate that,” I say, offering him a small smile, “but we can’t leave Beckford. If we’re caught, I’ll lose Tinsley. I won’t let that happen.”
“Sorry,” he says, his face dropping. “I don’t want you to leave. It would kill me not to see Tinsley. I’m just trying to protect her.”
“You protect her by showing up for her. She loves you, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for us. You’re a good person, Everett. A great brother.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t feel it sometimes.”
My stomach twists, and I’m once again flooded with guilt that I’m putting too much pressure on him by having him supervise Tinsley’s visits with their father. “If there’s anything I can do—”
“I’m good,” he says, getting to his feet. “I should go. I’ve got a lecture in half an hour.”
He walks to the door and lets himself out, while I stay rooted to the spot.
My nerves are shot from that conversation; my mind is going a million miles an hour.
What the hell could Edward be planning? Surely, he’s not planning on petitioning for custody of Tinsley.
There’s not a judge in their right mind who would sign off on that after what he did.
He may not have laid a hand on her, but that’s only because I put my body in the firing line to protect her.
I press my hand to my forehead, knowing I should try to get some work done before Blake comes over, but there’s no way I can concentrate on numbers right now.
It will mean working overtime for the next couple of days to make up for it, but that’s the beauty of being my own boss. I can choose my own hours.
Maybe Tinsley could have a sleep-over at Everett’s tomorrow night. Spending time with her might ease his mind about whatever is going on with his father.
With the decision made to blow off work today, I make myself a cup of chamomile tea and retrieve my Kindle from my bedroom.
Making myself cosy on the couch, I lose myself in the world of a female vigilante vampire on a mission to rid the world of miserable humans.
It’s a paranormal romcom with dark humour that’s perfect for my mood.
As I read, I imagine all the things I’d like to do to Edward, including castrating him and stuffing his mouth with his own testicles. Sounds fun.
I’m so engrossed in my book that when a knock sounds at the front door, I jump. I check my phone and see it’s just after twelve—I still have three hours before I have to pick up Tinsley. Placing my Kindle on the coffee table, I scramble off the couch and race to the door, throwing it open.
The sight of Blake’s huge grin chases away the lead weight in my stomach from my conversation with Everett, and I drag him into the house, barely closing the door before my lips are crashing into his and I’m breathing in his citrusy scent.
His arms circle my waist, and he drags me flush against his body with a low hum that reverberates through me. He backs us towards the couch with skilled ease, and when his arse hits the cushions, I don’t hesitate to climb onto his lap and deepen the kiss.
“That’s some hello,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing a trail along my jaw.
All I can do is hum in response as he buries his head in the crook of my neck, nipping at the tender flesh then soothing it with his tongue.
“I missed you, pixie.” His hands settle on my hips, pausing the rocking motion. “As much as I would love nothing more than to rip your clothes off and bury myself deep inside you—” My cheeks flush at the thought, “—we need to talk first.”
“Are you sure, striker?” I ask, nuzzling his nose with mine as my fingers slip under the hem of his T-shirt to run over his perfect abs. “Because I missed you, too, and something tells me we might not be in the mood afterwards.”
He groans, resting his forehead against mine. “I think you might be right.”
My lips tug into a smirk. “I’m always right.”
“Is that so?” He pokes me in the ribs, and I let out a squeak. “Here or the bedroom?”
“Bedroom,” I answer quickly, wrapping my arms around his neck when he stands and carries me down the hall. If this is the end, I need to feel him one last time.
I laugh when he tosses me onto the bed before kicking off his shoes and climbing on beside me.
He tucks my hair behind my ear, then leans in to kiss me, soft and sweet.
“What sorcery is this that I just can’t seem to get enough of you?” he asks, and my body heats.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I reply, pushing him onto his back to kiss him deeply, my tongue pressing past his lips to tangle with his.
I can’t get enough of this man. Every time he’s near, I lose my senses. He makes my heart race in a way I’ve never experienced before, and this is how I know he’s different. My body comes alive at his touch. I don’t shrink away in fear or trepidation.
My grin turns mischievous when I rake my fingers down his chest, and he shivers. When I reach the hem of his shirt, I push it up, revealing his impressive abs. He hums as I lean down and trail kisses over his feverish skin, his fingers gently pushing through my hair.
I lock my gaze on his as I unbutton his jeans, loving the lazy smirk playing on his lips.
His hair falls haphazardly over his forehead, making him devastatingly handsome.
Desire pools in my stomach, and I lick my lips as I pull his jeans and boxers down his legs, only far enough to free his adorned cock.
He mutters a curse as he traces my lips with his finger. “Are you going to take me here?” he rumbles, his voice thick with need.
I draw his finger into my warm mouth, sucking gently as I nod, and another curse falls from his lips.
His eyes never leave me as my free hand presses against his abs while the other grips the base of his cock.
Keeping my gaze on his, I lower my head and lick the underside of his shaft, letting my tongue play with each barbell.
He thickens in my hand as I reach the top, swirling his head and moaning at the salty taste of him while sucking him into my mouth.
Blake groans as I take him as far as I can, but he never tries to take control. I work the rest of him with my hand, building up a rhythm that draws low, gravelly pants from his lips. His taste is intoxicating, and I rub my thighs together, trying to quell the ache building between my legs.
“Fuck, pixie,” he gasps, gently pulling me off him. “I need to be inside you.”
He tugs me up his body, claiming my mouth, not caring that I taste like him. His hand slips between us, breaching my leggings and sliding over my slick core. I arch into his touch, and he swallows my whimpers as he pushes a finger inside me.
My body trembles, that familiar spark of pleasure coiling in my stomach. I clench around him as he curls his finger, finding my G-spot.
“You ready for me, baby?” he pants, his breath warm against my lips.
“Please,” I beg.
“Condom?”
I reach for my bedside table, and he grins.
“Prepared, pixie?”
“Hopeful, striker.”
His grin widens, and my pulse spikes. When he smiles, it’s warm and reckless, and I swear he doesn’t realise how unfairly sexy that happiness looks on him.
I fumble for the box of condoms I stashed there after his last visit, shuddering as his thumb presses against my clit. Gripping a foil wrapper, I squeeze my eyes shut as my orgasm crests, biting down on my lip as I ride the wave, my release coating his hand.
When I finally open my eyes, Blake’s staring up at me in awe. Tucking my hair behind my ear with his free hand, he says, “You’re so goddamn beautiful, it hurts.”
My cheeks heat, but I’m too high from my release and desperate for more. I pass him the condom, almost crying from the loss of him. But he makes quick work of ripping the foil open with his teeth and rolling it down his length.