As soon as he gets behind the wheel, he cranks the engine and turns on the heat. “Are you comfortable?”
“Do you have a death wish, Blake?” I cross my arms. “Because I don’t. You heard the newscasters say that the roads aren’t completely salted yet.”
“We’re not taking any roads.”
“We’re just going to sit here?”
“Not exactly.” He leans over and kisses me, pulling up the emergency brake. “I’m going to kiss you until you can’t breathe, and then I’m going to f**k you in the backseat.”
“This is what you consider a date?”
“I never said this was a date.”
“You said you were taking me out.”
“Out as in outside. Are we not outside?”
As much as I want to punch him in the face right now, I can’t help but laugh. “You are really something. Do you know that? This is probably why you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“If I had one, she would always drink during Never Have I Ever, because I would make sure that we kiss and have sex everywhere...” He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “I would never be patient enough to wait for privacy.”
I blush and he kisses me again, moving to my side of the car. Whispering, he slowly unzips my jacket. “Is there anything I can say to make you stay for another week?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure?”
I suck in a breath and murmur, “Yes,” as he unclips my bra.
“Well in that case...” He unfastens my jeans. “Let’s see if there’s something I can do instead...”
Chapter 11
I don’t want to leave Washington. Ever.
I want to stay here and have sex with Blake all day, every day, but I know that’s impossible. Unrealistic.
What happened between the two of us over the past week and a half is something I’ll always remember, but something I can’t let last.
The storm is over and he has a firm to run.
I have a life to rebuild. Sooner rather than later.
Maybe that’s why neither of us has said a word to each other this morning, and the glances we’ve stolen from one another haven’t lasted for more than a second.
I’m not sure how many times I’ve double checked my bag—knowing damn well that I have everything. I’m just stalling because this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.
Earlier this morning, when we woke up, Blake had left me one last gift on the nightstand. It was a small grey box and inside were two items: A flight ticket to Nashville that was scheduled to leave in four days with the words, “Stay,” written across the top. And a small charm—a small silver plane with the words “You’re in my seat” etched onto its wings.
I’d wanted to take them both, to tell him “okay” to me staying, but I couldn’t do it. Instead, I slipped the charm onto my bracelet and wrote the words, “I can’t...” on the flight ticket.
“I’m ready now,” I say when I walk into the living room.
“Okay.” He stands up from the couch and takes my bag from me, leading the way to the garage. He looks over at me once before he pulls off, saying, “I enjoyed every second that you were here.”
“Me too.”
We don’t talk on the way to the airport. There’s nothing to say.
I look over at him every chance I get, trying to make sure I memorize his every feature, and every time he looks at me I pretend as if I wasn’t staring.
When we make it to the airport, he grabs my bag and opens my door—walking me inside like a complete and total gentleman.
Taking my bag from him, I avoid eye contact. “Thank you so much for letting me stay with you, Blake. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And um...The sex was okay.”
He places his fingers underneath my chin and tilts my head up. “Okay?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Do I need to define the word for you?”
He slips his arms around my waist and presses his lips against mine. “I’m sure you’ll still be thinking about how ‘okay’ it was weeks from now.”
“Maybe.”
Hugging me a little tighter, he sighs. “What’s the worst that could happen if you stayed with me for four more days?”
I open my mouth to say, “Nothing” but I pause. “Feelings.”
Not seeming to understand the ramifications behind that, he kisses my forehead—whispering, “I wouldn’t mind that.” And then he lets me go.
I turn around and walk away from him, but I stop and look over my shoulder.
He looks absolutely confused—torn, but he’s hiding it behind a smile.
I sigh and walk over to him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him like he’s kissed me so many times before. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’ve already told me that.” He pulls away and threads his fingers through my hair.
“So?”
“So, if you still plan on leaving me, I suggest you do it now because if you don’t, I’ll be dragging you back home within the next twenty seconds.”