He speaks first. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How was New York?”
I shrug. That’s a loaded question. “It was a quick trip. I didn’t fall in love. I didn’t fall in hate.”
“How’s Pierce?”
He doesn’t really want to know this, does he? I contemplate, watching him.
He pushes off the counter, taking slow steps toward me. “I hated that you were alone with him.”
This should be the time that I tell him nothing happened. I should be able to say that, but I can’t. If I let myself, I could easily fall for Pierce.
And the guilt . . . I don’t deserve it. Blake is the whole reason I can’t fall for Pierce. He fucked me. His touch reached deeper than my skin to my heart, but he couldn’t fill the need he created. He couldn’t commit, and now I’m the one who finds it impossible to give myself to anyone else. That brings the bitterness back.
“You let me go, remember?”
He winces but doesn’t break his slow stride. I step back to get more space between us, but just like so many other times with him, I find my back against the wall. He reaches me, caging me in with his hands against the wall on either side of my head. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“I need you to. Even when I hurt you . . . when you hate me, I need you to know I’m only doing what’s right for you.”
I swallow, trying to keep my eyes on his, but they always seem to find their way down to his lips. I hate how my body reacts to him. “You confuse the hell out of me, Blake.”
“There’s somewhere I need to go tonight, and I want you to come with me.”
“I can’t keep doing this. Nothing has changed between us.”
He comes even closer yet, his lips inches from mine. If he tried to kiss me, I don’t think I’d be able to stop him. My brain may scream at me to run away, but my heart wants me to stay. Even when just hours ago, I’d convinced myself it was time to break away.
“Come with me,” he begs.
I open my mouth to argue, but his finger covers my lips. “Come with me.”
“I have to work.”
He shakes his head, running his fingertip along my lower lip. “I already talked to Dana. I got you covered.”
Everything goes black. You shouldn’t do this. He’s just going to leave you flying high again without a safe place to fall. Then, as things come into focus, and all I see is him—the one guy I shouldn’t want but can’t seem to forget. He’s managed to ruin me in just a few short weeks.
His eyes soften as he removes his hands from the wall. He won this battle, and he knows it. “Grab your coat.”
I struggle to find the right words. My throat is dry. My head aches. It’s as if I’m stuck on one side of a fence with no way to get over and no time to strategize. I just want to disappear into my bedroom and bury myself under the thick covers, but I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like this. “Give me one good reason why I should.”
“Because if you don’t, you’ll always wonder what could have been.” He motions between us. “You feel this connection, but just like me, you’re not quite sure what to do with it. This gives us a chance to figure it out together.”
He makes it hard to argue when he says the most perfect words. He’s right, but he’s not. Just days ago, I knew what I wanted from Blake, but he was on a completely different page. For all I know, he still is.
“I’m not going to let you hurt me,” I finally whisper.
“I don’t intend to.”
“I need more than that, Blake. I don’t care about your intentions.”
He cups my face in his hands, leveling our eyes. “I’m not very good at this stuff, Lila, so listen to me carefully. For two years, I’ve been trying to get a contract to restore historic murals in Paris, and I finally did a few days ago.” He pauses, brushing the pads of his thumbs across my cheeks. “I turned it down because I couldn’t leave you . . . I couldn’t let you go.”
His admission melts me. Maybe I do mean something to him. “What does that mean . . . for us?” I ask, holding back tears.
“I don’t know, but I want you to figure it out with me. Please . . . just come with me tonight.”
A long pause. A potentially life-changing decision. “Do I need to change?”
He looks down, surveying my dress and heels. “You might want to throw on some jeans and grab a warmer jacket.”
As I move around the apartment, changing and gathering my things, I’m in a fog. Thoughts come then quickly fade away only to be replaced by others. Reece’s advice repeats in my head. Pierce’s words play over and over. Yet, before long, I’m standing at the door next to Blake.
He smirks. “Are you going to put on your shoes?”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
I run into my bedroom and tug on my black wool boots. When I come back out, he’s leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. “Much better,” he remarks, lacing his fingers with mine. He never lets go, pulling me along as we quickly move out of the building.
This is all so crazy—with Pierce one minute then Blake the next. I don’t even recognize myself anymore, but I push it all away to stay in the moment.
A cab waits out front. Blake opens the door, allowing me to climb in first. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask when the door shuts.
“No.”
“I haven’t eaten yet,” I announce. Even with my heightened nerves, my stomach grumbles. I should’ve eaten more of my soup at lunch.
“We’ll take care of that.”
I nestle against the seat, watching the Christmas lights through my window.
“Can I ask you something?” Blake says out of the blue.
“Only if I get one, too.”
He actually has to think about it, eyes exploring my features along the way. He’s scared of something, but I don’t know what. “There are stipulations.”
“Like?”
He rubs his chin. “I ask now, and you get yours at the end of the night.”
“What’s the point in that?”
“Maybe yours will be answered along the way.”
I nod, but I’m not exactly sure what I’m agreeing to. I have no idea what we’re doing, or how anything is ever going to get answered.
He continues, “Has Pierce mentioned me?”
By the way he rubs his hands together, I can tell he’s nervous. I am, too. “Just that I should stay away from you.”
“That’s fair enough.”
I don’t mention Alyssa . . . that’s something for later.
Before long, we’re pulling up next to Navy Pier. I’d read about it when I’d decided to move here but was waiting for warmer months to visit. Blake passes the cab driver a couple folded bills then climbs from the car, holding the door open for me.
“This isn’t quite what I expected,” I say without thinking.
He wraps his hand around mine, pulling me forward with him. “What were you expecting?”
I shrug. “A gallery or something.”
He laughs—something I rarely hear from him. “I paint because I’m good at it, and it helps me work through my shit. It doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I know.”
“Isn’t Lake Michigan frozen this time of year?”
“Lemon Drop?”
I grimace at the sound of my nickname rolling off his lips. He hasn’t said it since, well, since everything. “Yeah?”
“You’ll get your question at the end of the night. Now, please, just enjoy this.”
I smile to myself, remembering how I came to love this side of Blake.
He points out little attractions here and there as we walk hand in hand. I get lost in his love for Chicago, for the pier in general.
“Still hungry?” he asks.
“You have no idea,” I answer. There’s not much I wouldn’t put in my stomach right now.
“Have you tried a Chicago-style dog yet?”
“No.”
“That’s about to change.”