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59

A heavy vibration sounds from below my pillow and I stretch my arms out wide, my muscles feeling incredibly stiff from last night's experience. I never knew that good sex could make me feel more sore than a five-hour cheerleading practice session, but I can't complain. 

I shift myself around in bed, letting out a small "ow" when the soreness from my center pierces all throughout the bottom half of my body.

Blake sleeps peacefully beside me, oblivious to the early hour. The sun coming in through his window looks as if it has just risen, and the vibration of a phone pulsating right next to my ear reminds me why I am the only one awake. 

I search my hand beneath my pillow blindly, finding Blake's phone a second later. Yawning, I glance at the unknown number across the screen that's calling him, realizing it's not saved in his contacts and I don't recognize it either.

"B," I whisper, gently nudging his shoulder. "Someone is calling you."

Blake stirs slightly, his eyelashes fluttering open only for a moment before closing again. 

"Then answer it," he rasps speedily, flipping around to get more comfortable and pulling the blankets back over him.

I frown as I motion to click the answer button and the call runs out of time just before I can. 

Shrugging it off, I rise from our bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower again, given that neither of us ended up getting very clean after the one last night. 

I smile as I open the shower door and see all my soaps scattered around the shelves in it, Blake not even bothering to buy his own body wash at this point. He knows I love the scent of his minty hair so he is always stocked on his peppermint shampoo, but both of us constantly walk around smelling like lavender. 

My cheeks heat when I turn on the water and the harsh jet stream comes blasting down on the tile floor, the vivid memories of last night swirling in my mind making me want to drag Blake right back into the bathroom again.

After finishing up my shower, I wrap a fluffy towel around my body and another around my head. When I step into Blake's room, I am surprised to find him awake, sitting on the edge of our bed and texting rapidly on his phone. 

"Good morning, do you want pancakes or-"

"Did you answer the call on my phone earlier?" he cuts me off, his voice short and emotionless. 

I shake my head. "No, it ended before I could. Why?" 

Blake visibly sighs with relief and there's an underlying unease in his demeanor and features, immediately telling me that he is hiding something. 

"Just wondering. I think it was one of those scam calls, didn't want you giving away my credit card numbers or something," he attempts to joke, but his voice falls flat.

I can instantly see right through the fake half-smile on his face and his attempt at a relaxed expression simply based on the look in his eyes. The emotions flickering behind them are ones of undeniable sadnesses– longing even. 

Before I can even ask Blake what is wrong, he throws his phone down on the mattress and suddenly rises from the bed, striding past me without another word. To further my confusion, he exits into the bathroom across the hallway and slams the door shut. 

My heart sinks in my chest as I feel all the warmth in the room disappear from the lack of his presence and sudden exit. He didn't even attempt to playfully tug my towel off, something he usually does when I greet him in one. 

"B?" I call out from behind the locked bathroom door. 

Listening intently, I press my ear against the wooden door in hopes of a response, but all I hear is the sound of the shower water being turned on. I try to shake off his evident bad mood this morning, but I can't help the waves of insecurity that begin to wash over me.