Blake's POV
"Are you seeing Simone again tonight?" DeAndre asked as I came down the stairs.
"Nah. I just thought I'd get dressed up and do some dishes," I replied, rolling the sleeves of my dress shirt part way up my arm. I wanted to look nice, but not like I was trying too hard.
"You look great," Marieka said, cuddling baby Isabella in her arms. "Perfect for dinner and a movie."
"Oh, where you taking her?" DeAndre asked.
I smiled. "To the backyard."
"Excuse me?" DJ raised his eyebrows and glanced between the two of us.
"Marieka came up with this romantic movie night idea."
"Well, actually I got the idea off Pinterest." Marieka interjected. "All my pinning is working out good for Blake."
"We rented a movie screen and projector and set up this nice little lounge area with cushions and pillows," I told him.
"And we added Christmas lights everywhere." Marieka's eyes were all lit up. "You have to go see it, DJ. It's so romantic."
DeAndre stared wryly at me. "Tell me now. Are you going to have sex in the backyard?"
"I can safely promise you there will be no sex happening tonight."
"You sound very sure of this. Everything okay?" DeAndre asked.
"Everything is great. She asked for things to go painfully slow, so painfully slow is what I'm giving her. And trust me when I say it is, indeed, painfully slow."
"Well, if you're suffering that bad, then I promise you she is, too," Marieka said, cradling Isabella's head as she stood. "I'm going to go put her down."
I glanced at my watch. "I need to go pick up dinner and you need to leave."
"I haven't even met her yet. What are we eating?"
"We? I ordered Chinese. You're gonna have to go somewhere else."
"Well, have fun. Carry some condoms, just in case."
Shaking my head, I laughed and hurried out to my car with DeAndre in tow. His comment stuck with me and gave me a sinking feeling. I hadn't used a condom last time. I didn't have one with me when it happened. Pretty much every girl I knew was on the pill, anyway. Surely Simone was, too? Unless she was thinking about her dead fiancé for three years and basically sentencing herself to celibacy. Then there would be no reason for the pill.
Damn. I needed to try to find a nice way to bring this up, tonight. If we were going to be together, we needed to take precautions and be safe.
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"You look amazing," I said, opening the back gate for her. She stepped inside, wearing a short black dress. Already my head was imagining all kinds of things it shouldn't be.
"So do you." She gave a quick laugh. "We match tonight."
Glancing down at my black shirt, pants, and shoes, I nodded. "True, but trust me when I say, no one is noticing what I'm wearing with you standing in the room."
Laughing, she moved closer and I could smell the light scent of her perfume. "We aren't standing in a room, Blake," she whispered. "We're outside, remember? And you should trust me when I say, I notice you just fine."
Shit. It was going to be one of those kinds of nights. I wanted to forget the movie, forget dinner, and carry her over to the cushions and then peel that dress off her gorgeous body.
"If you keep dressing like this and touching me like that, my promise to go slow is going to be a lot harder to keep."
"Maybe I changed my mind." She said smiling.
I needed to change the subject right now. "Are you hungry? I got us a bunch of Chinese take-out."
Sighing, she dropped her hand away and nodded. "I'm famished, really. I promised my mom I'd come over and help her weed her flowerbeds and vegetable garden today, and it turned into a bigger project than we initially thought it would be. I haven't eaten since breakfast."
Taking her by the elbow, I guided her over to the cushions and throw pillows. "You just sit right here and I will get you some food. Is there anything particular you like?"
"I'm not too picky, but I do love sweet and sour pork."
"Coming right up," I loaded her plate with sweet and sour pork, noodles, and fried rice, along with a fortune cookie. Placing a pair of chopsticks on the side, I carried it over to her. "Here you go."
She stared at the plate for a moment before glancing up at me from her seat. "I suck at using chopsticks."
"Do you now?" I grinned. "I think I'm looking forward to watching this."
"You aren't going to take pity on me and bring me a fork, instead?" She took the plate.
"Now what makes you think I'm willing to ruin all my fun just to make it easy on you?" Quickly, I hurried back to dish my own food before returning and settling down beside her. "Do I need to feed you?"
"You might have to. I'm that bad at it." She continued to stare at her plate.
I took a bite, moaning as the flavor burst into my mouth. "You should really try it. It's amazing."
Picking up one chopstick, she stabbed a piece of the pork and ate it. Laughing, I shook my head.
"That's one way to do it, I guess. Whatever works."
"Not very graceful, I imagine."
"Hey, you're eating dinner with an NBA star. Don't you know we eat like pigs?"
She smiled. "Whatever."
"I'm being totally serious. Being on the road all the time and all those practices, and I'm always a late person, I've learned to eat whatever I have quickly."
"I could see how that might be a problem, but you can go slowly tonight."
"Hmmm." Her words conjured up something totally different for me. "I have no problem going slow, either. In fact, I've been looking forward to it."
"I don't believe I put out on the second date," she said, slightly stabbing another piece of pork and eating it.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. You only put out on first non-dates."
Laughing, she rolled her eyes. "That's right."
"We need to have another one of those then. Do you put out on second non-dates?" I asked, eyeing her and she totally choked on the bite she was chewing. Reaching over, I patted her on the back, lightly, as she continued coughing. "I can see you're wanting to move straight to mouth-to-mouth. I don't only know how to deliver a baby. I would've accommodated you, I know you're dying to kiss me."
A strangled laugh escaped her amid more coughing sounds and I quickly dragged out the bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice and poured her a glass. With a grateful expression, she accepted it and downed the entire contents, swiftly.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled, only a couple small coughs escaping her as she handed the glass back to me. "Thank you."
"More? Already?" I asked, staring at the empty wine goblet. "At this rate you're going to be very drunk here, shortly; but if you insist." Pouring her another, I handed it back.
"I wasn't asking for more," she replied with a laugh, accepting it. I was totally surprised when she slammed the contents and extended her hand again.
"Let me guess? You're a closet alcoholic?" Still, I couldn't resist refilling her drink. I was enjoying seeing this side of her. She always seemed so controlled.
"Are you going to have some?" She asked, gesturing to my still empty glass.
"Honestly, I'm having too much fun watching you. I completely forgot about it."
"Well, I'm not drinking this one without you."
Grabbing mine, I quickly filled it and held it out toward her. "To tonight." I toasted and she clinked my glass and downed hers again. Chuckling, I did the same. "So, let me guess. You were a champion drinker in college?" I refilled our glasses, noting the end of the bottle. I quickly slipped the spare into the ice.
"Were you planning on getting me drunk tonight?" She asked, eyeing the second bottle suspiciously.
"Not at all," I assured her with a laugh. "I just like to be prepared, you know, in case a champion drinker stops by for dinner."
Giggling, she shook her head. I could tell the alcohol was taking affect already. "I wasn't old enough to drink in college. Well, at least I wasn't when most kids around me were into all that. In fact, I never even tried a drink until I was twenty."
"Why twenty?" I asked, unable to imagine going that long without ever trying alcohol.
"That was when Christian died. I didn't care if I was too young then. Plus, I had plenty of college friends who sympathized with me and were very happy to buy for me. I didn't drink enough to affect my schooling; but at night, when the day and my homework were done, I got wasted." Glancing at me, I could see the sadness radiating from her eyes. "I couldn't sleep without it — too many nightmares." Staring at me, she raised her finger and shook it. "This is not me advising you to drink to get rid of your nightmares."
"I didn't think you were. Besides, I've already tried that. It didn't work."
"When did you have your first drink?" She asked, thankfully steering the conversation away to safer subjects.
Smiling, I thought back to my childhood. "I never set out with a desire to be a bad kid or to break the rules. That being said, the party scene was totally where I wanted to be. My first beer was one my dad had chilling in the refrigerator. There was always beer in there, and he drank enough that he never seemed to notice when I took one or two for myself — or if he did, he never said anything about it to me."
"You didn't tell me how old you were."
"I was twelve."
"Twelve! Oh my gosh! Do you even have a liver left?"
Laughter erupted from me. I loved how she always caught me off guard. "I didn't become an instant alcoholic, you know. My beer sneaking ratio averaged about one a week. I'm fairly certain my liver is fine."
"What about later? You said you were into the party scene."
"Yes, and I was also a star athlete in high school. I stayed away from drugs, and mostly drank."
She bit her lip and cocked her head to the side as she stared at me. "I'm just curious about your past and getting a clear picture of how you ended up here like this."
"Like what?" I asked, curious to what label she'd put on me.
"Perfect," she said with a sigh, and I laughed, reaching over and taking her glass and setting it beside mine.
"I think we've had enough to drink."
"I'm not drunk," she said, leaning closer. "I can handle my liquor very well."
"Can you now?" I asked, enjoying her close proximity. My gaze dropping to her plump, glistening lips. "Then what's going on here?"
She leaned in closer. "I'm going to kiss you because you're taking entirely too long to do it and it's driving me insane."
I shook my head. "Sorry. I can't kiss you. You're under the influence and that would be taking advantage of you, and breaking my promise to go slow."
Giggling, she moved a hairsbreadth away from me, her lips almost touching mine. "What if I'm doing all this because I want you to break your promise and take advantage of me?"
I swallowed hard, continuing to play her game. "I still couldn't do it."
She pulled back slightly. "Why not?"
"Because kissing you would lead to other things, and I promised DeAndre I wouldn't have sex in the backyard."
"Oh." The way she said it followed by the disappointment in her eyes made me want to throw all caution to the wind and kiss her anyway. Immediately, her expression brightened.
"So let's get going up to your room. We can always make out on that squeaky bed of yours."
I groaned loudly. "You can't say things like that to me."
"Why not?"
"You know why."
Smiling, she placed a light kiss against my lips. I didn't move. In fact, I didn't respond at all, trying very hard to stick to my resolution.
"From the moment I showed you that bed, I've been imagining you in it."
"Really?" She smiled even bigger. "I was pretty sure I was the only one who imagined that."
"Now I'm positive this is the alcohol talking," I said.
"Why?"
"Because you're pretty good at keeping me at arm's length. I'm fairly certain you haven't been imagining yourself in my bed."
"You know what they say..."
"No, I don't. What do they say?" I was thoroughly enjoying this conversation.
"Alcohol loosens the tongue, so the truth can finally come out."
"Is that what they say?" I asked, my heart rate picking up speed.
"It is."
"So what are you trying to tell me, Simone? Say it plain — no games." I brushed my hand over her hair, our food completely forgotten.
"I'm asking you to take me to bed, Blake. To your bed."
Everything inside my body begged for me to give in to her request. "And what happens later, when you regret asking me to do this?"
"I can't regret doing something I want."
"And what about Christian?" I asked, knowing this question could possibly derail everything.
She was silent for several moments. "You were right. Liking you doesn't mean I have to love Christian any less."
"I don't want to be the guy who is on standby for you, Simone. I want more than that from you."
Sidling against me, she placed her hands on either side of my face. "Blake, I don't want you to be that either. I'm so tired of crying. I'm so tired of being lonely. I'm so tired of waiting for... something. All I know is you're the first guy I've noticed since Christian died. I like you. I enjoy being with you. Whenever you're around, I'm happy."
Staring at her, I continued to finger the silky strands of her hair. "That sounded surprisingly lucid."
She laughed. "I told you, I'm not drunk. A little mellow maybe, but I'm not drunk."
"So, if I take you upstairs, you aren't going to scream at me later for taking advantage of you?"
"I never said there wouldn't be screaming," she said, smiling briefly before pressing her lips to mine. Fire shot through me at the contact and I scooped her up, carrying her to the sliding glass door that led inside to the stairs, unwilling to waste one more second.
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Things are heating up between these two very quickly, lmao!