"What plans do you have that don't involve me?" Val asks indignantly on Friday.
It's the first time she's ever texted me where I've had to blow her off with the honest excuse that I'm doing something. The first thing she did was call me to make sure I'm not lying to get out of socializing, and I can't keep the smile out of my tone.
"Val, I enjoy all the time we spend together, but I have a date tonight."
The line goes silent for a moment. Then, "With who?"
Part of me doesn't want to tell her yet. Blake and I got off to a bit of a rocky start. What if I jinx it? But Val is also my best friend, and she'll find out, anyway.
I sigh. "Do you remember that doctor I ran into at the bar on my birthday?"
I can almost hear the gears turning in her head and see the huge grin on her face. She says something in rapid Spanish I don't understand, but I know she's happy for me. "There's a lot you haven't been telling me. How well do you two know each other? How were you able to connect? And don't you think it's strange that he's your doctor?"
Ah, the ethics. Working in a hospital herself, that's the first thing she'd think of. "He's not actually my doctor," I correct. "He texted me right after the accident so I could fill out a form, but I never deleted his number. After you left...well, he texted me, and I answered."
Only half the truth, but I can tell her the rest later when I'm not getting ready. Problem is, she wants these details now. "That can't be all. Did he apologize? Did he kick his friend's ass? A girl needs to know these things. Oh my God, does Jim know?"
"Hell no. Dad would have his friends run all sorts of background checks on him before interrogating Blake himself." Not to mention, he'd probably polish a shotgun for shits and giggles. It's not that he's against me making my own decisions, but he's so damn protective sometimes—much like Val in a way.
I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear as I look for something to wear. "I promise I'll tell you everything afterwards, but I really need to get ready. Blake told me to be ready by six."
"Okay, but bring a can of mace and don't forget protection."
I groan. "Yes, Mother."
"Hey now, chica, I'll still spank you for that sass."
"Spank me and enjoy it," I say with a snort. "You make all these promises..."
"And maybe one day I'll keep it. You might even enjoy it yourself. Just promise me you'll be safe?"
I love my best friend and all she does to look out for me. Even when she's overbearing like this, I can't be annoyed with her. "I'll be fine. I'll text you when I get there to let you know I'm alive. I really do need to get off the phone though."
"Okay. I love you, angelita. If you need to fake a headache, call me, and I'll come get you."
With loud kissing noises, we end the call, and I check the time. It's already four o'clock, and I still need to shower, find clothes, and convince myself this is a good idea.
A text came in while I was on the phone, and I feel a little dizzy at the content.
'Bring a swimsuit.'
Residential pools aren't unheard of, but sheesh. What else does he have, a secret rocket ship?
"Okay," I mutter, "don't judge the guy. You asked him out."
"Asked who out?"
Dad's voice comes from the other side of my door, and I cross the room to fling it open. Planting my hand on my hip, I scowl. "Are you listening in on my conversations?"
He watches me with wide eyes, raising his hands in the air with his palms facing me. "Nope. I'm completely innocent. Was just coming upstairs to use the bathroom when I heard you talking to yourself."
Oh. Well, shit. I don't want to tell him this yet, but like my best friend, he'll want to know. "Fine, his name is Blake. I met him...when I was out with Val last week, and I'm going out with him tonight."
Dad's eyebrow lifts and his arms cross his chest. "Anything else? How do you know he's safe? There are some sick people out in the world."
Where his eyes widen, mine narrow and I puff my cheeks. "Dad, I'm old enough to go on a date without everyone questioning me."
His gaze softens as he pats my shoulder. "I know this, but that doesn't mean I can't worry about your safety. Do you have the mace I gave you?"
I bite my lip and count to five. Exhaling from my nose, I firmly say, "Yes, I have it, but I won't need it. I've already been to lunch with him and—"
"When?"
"Uh, that day you went on your exploring hobby." I need to end this conversation before I'm held up even more. I straighten my shoulders and raise my brows in challenge. "Do you tell me when you go on dates?"
"I do when it comes up," he hedged.
With a scoff, I shake my head. "Okay, let's just respect each other enough to make our own decisions. I'm not a child, and I'm not Mom. If anything happens, you and Val will be the first people I call, alright?"
"Okay," he concedes. "It's your life. I'm only saying this because I care."
"Thanks." My voice is tight, but I keep my thoughts to myself. Dad wasn't around when I needed him as a teenager, and Mom...well, she might as well have been invisible. Until now, I've always taken care of myself, even if things didn't work out.
Between Dad and Val, my mood has become sour. I know they both mean well, but treating me like I'm fragile won't help me overcome my anxiety or flaws. When Dad finishes in the bathroom, I go to take my shower and slam the door behind me, doing my best to hold back my emotions. Blake will be here soon, and the last thing I need is for him to treat me like a china doll too.
By the time he pulls into the driveway, I have my swimsuit in a small shoulder bag and a fake smile on my face. Dad approaches the window, and I stop him.
"Don't," I warn. "You can grill us both later."
"You don't at least want to invite him in?" he asks innocently.
So he can scare Blake away? Hell no. "Another time. If we make it official, then yes. Otherwise, please just let me enjoy myself."
Dad brings me in for an awkward hug. He clears his throat as he pulls away, watching me with a frown. "You got too big on me. Be good."
"Always am."
With a wave, I'm out the door and running to Blake's car, where he's already standing outside to greet me. Now that I'm in front of him, my courage has faded again as shame crashes over me for the way we left things last week.
"Hi."
There is no resentment in his features—in fact, he seems very relaxed as he reaches for my hand and leans in for a kiss. He doesn't release my hand when he leads me to the driver's side and takes my bag from me. It's like last Saturday never happened.
Once we're both inside the car, he watches me with nothing but warmth. "I'm very happy to see you."
I am too, but I'm lost for words because I don't deserve this treatment. Everything I thought was a preconception when I should have given him a chance the moment he walked up to me in the bar. So instead of speaking, I take his hand and grin, chewing on my lower lip. "Thank you for giving me another chance," I whisper.
"I have a feeling you're worth it." He turns on the ignition and pulls out of the driveway before glancing back at me. "Do you like fish? I know we just had sushi, but I had something special in mind, and it sounds like you already have your share of poultry."
"I'm fine with whatever you make."
He nods, though he has a strange look on his face as is he's not satisfied with my answer. "Are you, or do you just want to be polite? Also, how did you find out about all of those allergies? Was it a childhood thing or did they come on gradually?"
"I got really sick a couple of years ago where my back started hurting and my stomach bloated so bad, I looked like I was eight months pregnant. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I went to my doctor, where she ran a full panel. That's when I found out I was allergic to everything. Once I started cutting everything out, I learned the hard way I definitely can't have cheese anymore or I'll stop breathing. It's worse than peanuts," I finish, bemoaning the loss of my favorite comfort food.
"Wow." He releases with a low whistle. "That would explain your rib. Did you get a bone density scan?"
"Came back normal. I do have a Vitamin D deficiency, and I've been taken multi-vitamins and calcium supplements, but I guess it's not enough since I still break easily." And then, because I don't know how to shut up, I add, "My doctor's new physician assistant was kind of useless. She told me to come up with a better story for how I broke my rib, and then asked over and over again if someone was abusing me."
Blake winces. "Oof, she should have had more tact. I understand why she would ask since you're young and domestic abuse is so widespread. You're a nice girl, and you strike people as someone..."
"People take advantage of?" I finish.
Blake pinches his lips, but at least I know he doesn't mean to offend me. "Has anyone ever..."
I fill in the blanks for him even though I don't ever talk about this with anyone. "It was a long time ago. My mom wasn't all there in the head. Sometimes she could be loving, but most of the time she was so angry, and I was the person she took it out on. My dad took me in when the state told him to, and I haven't spoken to her since. I'm safe now."
Safe from her, from the people who bullied me, safe from everyone who would ever hurt me again. But I don't share this part because he doesn't need to know this; no one does. The past is better left alone because I can't change it. All I can do is move forward.
Blake's jaw clenches and his eyes harden as he focuses on the road. "Is this why you push people away?"
I shrug. I can't deny it, but I can't admit it either. "Can we talk about something else, please?"
He nods. "Sure. We're almost to my place anyway."
Looking out the window, I watch the city dissolve into mountains and winding roads. I've been through the Foothills once or twice, though it seems different when I'm with Blake. He obviously lives here—he's comfortable in this neighborhood full of $350,000 homes, golf courses, and a sense of security I've never known. It's beautiful though, filled with green parks, mountains, and the low sun behind orange and pink clouds.
And sure enough, when we pull into his driveway, the house is new, with tan and brown brick walls, floor to ceiling windows, and has a second floor. Desert trees shade the driveway and shrubs are artfully placed throughout the rocks in the yard. We pull into his garage and close the door behind us where a beast of a motorcycle is parked on the right.
I step out of the car and look at the bike. It's easily twice my size, and I can already imagine trying to climb onto it behind Blake before falling on my ass.
He appears behind me and whispers in my ear, tickling my neck with his warm breath. "If you want, I can take you for a ride."
Oh, I do want, but not on his motorcycle.
Do I spin around and tell him to hold off on dinner so I can skip straight to desert? Is this a chance worth taking? I'm willing to bet he wouldn't say no, but ugh, my brain keeps racing back and forth on it.
Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I inhale and exhale before slowly turning in his arms. With my eyes locked onto his, I boldly guide his hands to the the warm skin beneath my shirt. When he visibility swallows, I press my hips against his, and I know how much he wants this too.
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest. All I have to do is tell him—show him what I want.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!
Should I do it? Can I do it?
Trembling, I move his hands further up until they graze the fabric of my bra. Now he shudders with a gutteral groan. The tips of his thumb rub circles around the lace, and his breathing is coming in gasps.
Could I, should I...
To Hell with coulds and shoulds. I run my hands into his hair and tug hard, bringing his head down. When our mouths clash, fire zips through my body in all the right places, and I whisper, "Would you prefer dinner or dessert in bed?"
His fingers fly to the clasp on my bra, and he has it undone within seconds before yanking my shirt over my hand. Pressing me against his bike, he closes his mouth over my breast and sucks hard. As he flicks the tender nub with his tongue, he pinches my other nipple, making my throw my head back with a sharp gasp.
His mouths breaks contact long enough for him to rasp out, "Neither. I want to fuck you right here."
I don't need any more prompting. My flip-flops come off and my shorts go flying somewhere in another direction as he sheds his clothes. With nothing to separate us, we melt into each other, and he makes me his.