Edit 3/2/17: Hey guys! I'm so glad you're reading this after so, so long (but Blake and Lexi are timeless, am I right?)
I just wanted to write a little note to thank all of you for all your lovely comments and to say that I've got a new story up in my page if you would like to read it. It's called The Motley Crew and I've only just started it so I would really appreciate some feedback.
Anyway, happy reading!!
Lexi the Exotic Belly Dancer
It was that time of the year again –no, not Christmas or New Year or anyone's birthday. Finals were just around the corner and I, Lexi Grayson, was not in the least bit embarrassed to admit that I was freaking out. In fact, I was beyond freaking out.
On my own, I was bad enough. But what with Blake taking on, in my opinion, way more than he should have, I was worried for him too.
"Pumpkin, I can feel you thinking from way over here," Blake said from the other end of our rectangular dining table.
After dinner, I had settled down there to study, with Blake keeping himself occupied next to me. Every so often though his hand would find its way to my knee or I'd feel him caressing my baby bump.
I understood Blake's need to constantly touch me since most of the time I felt the same way but I couldn't focus on anything but his touch and ultimately it was getting me nowhere. I couldn't take it anymore so I had banished him to the other side of the table so he was now sitting out of reach.
Not that that was stopping him.
Now, instead of touching me, he would just get out of his seat and go to the kitchen to get something, every five minutes like clockwork. He'd return with a glass of water for himself or a cup of decaf for me –no coffee what with the baby and everything. Sometimes it'd be biscuits or a chocolate bar, maybe even yogurt.
As a result, the space on the table that wasn't taken up by my books was filled with all of Blake's junk.
"Blake, seriously! Finals are a week away," I groaned, turning back to stare at my sloppily written notes which I was deeply regretting.
"Yes, I know when finals are. You've been talking about it for weeks." He rolled his eyes playfully, teasing me for the way I had lost my cool at the revelation that this was the very last final exam I'd ever take in my entire life.
"Well, if you're not going to do anything about it then let me. I know you can fall back on your good looks to get you through but I'm not willing to gamble on that." I couldn't help but tease him back.
The truth was that no matter what it was that I was up to and what mood I was in, Blake could always put the playfulness back into me. Heck, I could have been an eighty-year-old grumpy pot with Alzheimer's and I would still probably react in the same way to Blake.
"If we're going to be making a living on my face then, baby, let me tell you we're totally set. And I mean for life. Did you say you wanted a white leather interior for our jet or was it tan?" He laughed.
It didn't escape my attention that he was slowly inching his way back to me. He'd moved from the chair right across from me to the next one along. I knew that soon enough, he'd be right next to me, if not sitting on the chair I was already sitting on with me on his lap–if he could have it his way.
I however, just didn't feel like pointing this out at the moment. The distraction he was providing was currently very welcome. I needed a break from trying to decipher my notes because they were most definitely giving me a headache and stress was not good for the baby, so I was told.
