“Things seem to be going well with the two of you,” I say.
She quirks her brow. “I could say the same for you,” she retorts.
I shrug my shoulders. “She needs time.”
I smell her before I see her, that sweet vanilla scent. She stops beside me, a faint blush on her cheeks. I bend down and kiss her temple. “Breakfast is ready.” I motion toward her plate on the counter as I sit another next to it. Tatum butters the toast that just popped out of the toaster while I pour us both a glass of milk. She carries our plates to the table; I follow her with our drinks.
Ember laughs. Tatum and I both stop and look at her. “You two are so in sync with each other it’s scary. You know the next one’s move before it happens.”
I smile at Tatum and shrug my shoulders. We’ve discussed the connection we both feel. I’m not surprised someone has picked up on it, especially my sister.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Guess what happened to me last night?”
“What?” Tatum asks her. She spent the night with Jackson, and if it has to do with that, I’m good. I don’t need to hear the details.
“Jackson and I were just hanging out listening to the radio and they had a contest to win four seats to the sold out Luke Bryan concert in Nashville. I won!” she squeals.
“No way!” Tatum replies, her eyes lighting up with the same excitement as Ember’s.
“Yep. It’s this Saturday. Jackson, of course, is going, but I have two extra tickets. Are you guys in?”
I love how my sister groups us together like it’s a package deal. I look at Tatum. “It’s your call, Tate. I want to be wherever you are,” I say.
“Awww,” Ember says.
I chuckle.
Tatum’s eyes meet mine. “You’ll go with me?” she confirms.
“Wherever you are,” I repeat.
Tatum addresses Ember. “Sounds fun.” She looks at her watch. “Shit, I’m going to be late.” She jumps up, grabbing her plate. I place my hand on her arm to stop her.
“I got this. I don’t have to be at the shop until noon,” I tell her, taking the plate from her hands. “I’ll walk you out.”
She nods her head and rushes to her room to grab her purse. I walk her to her car, opening the door for her. I tell her to have a good day and give her a chaste kiss on the lips. It’s not near enough, but I know she’s running behind with all the concert talk.
Walking back into the apartment, I see Ember has already started cleaning up the kitchen. “I was coming back in to do that,” I tell her.
“It’s fine. Hey, I’m going to reserve rooms for Saturday if I can get them. Do I need two or three?” she asks hesitantly.
“Two. I may not be willing to make love to her yet, but I want her next to me,” I blurt out.
Ember’s mouth drops open. “TMI, big brother, TMI,” she laughs.
This week has flown by. Blaise and Jackson have both been at the apartment every night. Blaise hasn’t stayed over again, and I miss him. Leah and I met for lunch; we had a lot to catch up on. She thinks I should take the plunge with Blaise. I distracted her with wedding talk.
Today is Saturday, the day of the concert. He and I are sharing a room tonight; I can’t wait. I sleep better when he’s with me. I’ve come to accept that. I have no idea what I’m going to do about it, but I’m no longer lying to myself. Blaise means a lot to me.
“I still can’t believe I was able to get two rooms right down the block from the venue,” Ember says as we eat breakfast.
“Last minute cancellation for the win,” I say.
She laughs.
“Blaise called and said he and Jackson will be here around noon,” I say.
What time is it now?” she asks around a bite of her bagel.
“Ten.”
“Shit! I need to pack.” She scurries from the table and down the hall to her room.
I’m packed and ready to go. I clean up the kitchen and take out the trash. Once back inside, I retrieve my bag from my room after a final check that I haven’t forgot anything. I’m wearing gym shorts and a tank during the drive, but I’m bringing a sun dress and cowboy boots to wear to the show.
I set my bag by the door and make myself comfortable on the couch. I hear a light knock at the door then keys. Blaise is here.
He walks into the living room; his eyes light up when he sees me. “Hey you,” he says, bending to place a kiss on my cheek. Those two words have become his trademark line each time he sees me. I love it.
“Hey, yourself. You’re early,” I say, lifting my legs so he can sit down on the couch beside me.
He shrugs. “I missed you.”
This man, he has no idea how his words affect me. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and I never have to wonder what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. Blaise is a “what you see is what you get” kind of guy and he lays it all out on the table.
He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. We sit in silence and watch the rest of “Sweet Home Alabama.” I love Reese Witherspoon.
About an hour later, there’s a knock at the door. Blaise brings our joined hands to his lips, and places a tender kiss against my knuckles before releasing me as he stands to go answer the door. I hear Jackson’s voice and smile. He’s almost an hour early himself. I can only assume it’s because he wants to see Ember. We are lucky girls!
It doesn’t take us long to get to Nashville. Jackson drives straight to our hotel and we check-in. I try to split the cost of our room with Blaise, but he shuts me down, complaining about no way is his woman paying. Ember and I laugh at him. Jackson takes his side, of course. I try to reason with him, telling him I’m not his woman. That statement causes him to complain about “stubborn women;” this I laugh at as well.
After the guys get us checked-in, we pile into the elevator. Our rooms are side by side. As we enter our rooms, we agree to meet at four to grab something to eat before we head to the concert, which starts at seven.
Blaise slides the card into the door and the lock releases. He holds the door open for me. I grab my bag from his hand, and he scoffs, “Must you be so stubborn, woman?” he asks.
I giggle. It’s fun to watch him go all caveman “me take care of my woman.” We’re not even officially together. We have spent every spare minute together lately, but still.
“Oh, you think this is funny, huh?” Blaise asks me.
I try to hold it in, I really do, but I can’t. I burst out with laughter. “Me take care of my woman,” I say in my most manly voice.
Blaise smiles as he stalks toward me. He snakes his arm around my waist and leans in close to my ear. “Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice husky.
I shake my head, biting my lip to prevent further swells of laughter to break free. It’s useless; I can no longer hold it in. I throw my head back and laugh at his ridiculousness. Blaise retaliates. He picks me up by my hips and tosses me on the bed. His hands slide up on my shirt and find my ribs; then he tickles me. I squirm under him, trying to roll to either side to break free. When that doesn’t work, I flail my arms and legs like a crazy person; still he doesn’t release. I’m laughing so hard, tears are rolling down my cheeks. “P—please st—stop,” I sputter through my laughter.
Suddenly, he stops. I take a minute to catch my breath. I look up at him; his silver eyes are lidded with desire. It’s then that I notice our position. Blaise is lying between my legs and they are wrapped around him. This position is intimate. He moves a little, pressing his hardness against my core. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. Blaise rests his weight on his left elbow while he traces the line of my face with his finger tips.