Текст книги "Lies Unspoken "

Автор книги: Lisa DeJong

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Don’t worry about me. There’s Skype.”

“Seriously?”

I laugh, thinking about A Christmas Story and horrible take out. “You should try it.”

The rest of the ride is quiet, and when we pull up in front of my building, he climbs out before I get a chance. He keeps his hands to himself as he walks me to the door.

“Have a nice weekend, and Merry Christmas, Lila.”

“You too,” I answer back, walking through the open door.

Before it closes all the way, he pushes his way in. I walk back to give him space, my heart thudding against my ribcage. He comes close, and when I think he might kiss me, he stops, his warm breath hitting my lips. “I have one more thing I need to say.”

I swallow, looking up into his warm green eyes.

“When you’re lying in bed tonight—thinking—remember that I’m here and he’s not.”

Before I can respond, he’s gone.

WHEN I WALK INTO MY APARTMENT, my thoughts are so wrapped around Pierce’s words that I almost miss Blake leaning against the counter. He’s the opposite of the man who dropped me off just minutes ago—fitted long-sleeve white T-shirt, faded jeans that mold to his body in all the right places, his blond hair curling under his gray beanie. Times like this, I get why I fell for him so hard. I wish he’d stop reminding me.

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.”

I despise hot dogs, but I’m so hungry I don’t care. I watch as he walks up to a stand and orders two dogs and two Cokes. Even I have to admit the aroma in the air smells amazing.

“Here you go,” he says, handing one off to me. I hesitate before sinking my teeth into it. It’s better than anything I’ve had in a while, better than the filet I had a couple nights ago. The taste of onions, relish, and tomatoes hits my tongue, playing together beautifully in my mouth.

“That good?” he asks, swiping his thumb across the corner of my mouth.

“What?”

“You’re moaning like you do when I’m buried inside of you.”

I attempt not to choke on the bite I just took. “We don’t have to worry about that ever again, do we?”

“We’ll see.”

The cold breeze batters my cheeks, but it doesn’t faze me with the hot food to keep me warm. We finish and head toward the amusement park. It’s dark and deserted—almost a little spooky, like a scene from a horror film.

“We’re not going in there, are we?” I ask.

“That’s another question. We talked about this.”

I grip his hand tighter as we walk toward the ferris wheel. I’m sure when this place is open at night in the summer, the lights are a beautiful addition to the glistening lake water.

A man stands next to the gate with two paper cups in his hands. “Mr. Stone.”

Blake nods.

“The bottom bench is ready for you.”

“Thank you.”

To my surprise, he leads us to the loading pad of the wheel and motions for me to get on. I hesitate for just a second before complying. I’ve never been on one like this before—at night when the park isn’t open.

“Take this,” he says, tossing me a thick fleece blanket. I wrap it around me, trying to keep my hands underneath. “Here,” he adds, handing me his gloves. He climbs in next to me, taking his side of the blanket.

The man who greeted us hands us each a cup and pulls the bar down over our lap. “Ready?” he asks.

“Let her roll,” Blake replies.

The wheel jerks once, then we start our ascent. When we reach the top, I notice we can see most of the city from here. “This is amazing.”

“I was hoping you’d like it.”

“How could I not?”

We go round a few more times. I almost forget about the paper cup wrapped in my hands. “What’s this?”

He smiles shyly. “Hot chocolate.”

I put it to my lips, letting the velvety hot liquid coat my tongue. It’s perfect—just the right amount of sweet. “Thank you for this.”

Before he can reply, the wheel suddenly comes to a stop with us seated way up top. It scares me, making my heart race considering the fact that we could be stuck up here.

“Relax,” Blake says, “this is part of the plan.”

I sit back against the seat, trying my best not to look down. Heights have never been my thing, but the view just might make it all worth it.

“What are we doing?” My voice is a little shaky.

He shrugs. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

I glare at him.

“I’m kidding. There’s so much to see up here and nothing to block the view.”

“Have you been up here before?” I ask between several deep breaths to calm myself.

“Not like this,” he says quietly.

“How did you get them to open it?” I remember how dark and empty everything had been when we entered.

“A few dollars will get you just about anything.”

Looking around, I notice I’m swimming in a sea of stars and lights. Something far more breathtaking than the sunset, and from here, it’s as if we’re the only ones who can see it.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice . . . really nice.” Honestly, the thought behind this has me close to tears.

“I missed you, Lila . . . talking to you.”

“I missed you, too.” I stop short of telling him I threw away a chance with someone else because my heart was still stuck on him.

“I fuck up a lot, but I’m going to try not to do that with you anymore.”

My heart leaps. Nothing seems to work out the way I want, but maybe, just maybe, this is different. “What are you saying?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

“I can’t lose you, but I’m not the man you need either. Not the one who deserves you, but I want to try.” He pauses, looking up to the sky . . . thoughtful. “I’ve said more to you in the last few weeks than I have to anyone else the last couple years. There’s got to be a reason for that. We just need to tread slowly.”

His words pang my heart. Whatever it is he’s carrying around with him left deep scars, easily detected by anyone who spends more than a few minutes with him. “Blake.”

“Don’t,” he says, tucking away a piece of hair that had blown across my face. “I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.”

“I don’t,” I lie. In the beginning, when I hadn’t met this side of him, I didn’t feel sorry for him. I think I hated him. “I need you to promise me you won’t cross that line—the one between where we are now and where we’ve been the last few days. I can’t do that again.”

“I can’t promise anything except that I’ll try.” His fingertip brushes my cold cheek.

The situation between us isn’t perfect, but it’s as perfect as we’re going to get. And I’m not ready to let him go.

“Is it my turn to ask a question yet?”

He smiles, but I know it might not be there long. “Go for it.”

“Who’s Alyssa?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Not just because I’m afraid of the answer, but his reaction too. Under the lights of the ferris wheel, his skin pales. His eyes flick from the sky back to his hands, and when I think I might be shunned from the truth again, two shaky words leave his lips. “My wife.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WIFE?” My voice vibrates with anger and confusion.

“Lila—”

“No. No. No. Don’t you dare step around this one. How the hell can you sit up here with me, telling me all these lies, when you’re married? Tell me how the fuck that works, Blake.”

He’s quiet longer than is tolerable. If we weren’t up here, he’d be running away just like he always does. It’s probably killing him that he can’t.

“Blake.”

He slams his hand down on the metal bar meant to keep us safe. “Why do you always have to push, huh? Does constantly digging into my failures make you happy? What the fuck do you want from me?”

I flinch, scooting to the edge of the seat. “I didn’t think asking the guy who kind of admitted he had feelings for me earlier about his wife was an issue. If it is, I want off. Now!”

“Lower us!” Blake yells over the side.

My stomach drops. My heart aches. Every thread of hope is lost. If I’m smart, I won’t grab at it the next time it’s dangled in front of me.

Our cab rocks at the bottom, and as soon as the metal bar is loose, I stumble out. I don’t stop there, walking as fast as my shaky legs will carry me. Blake made his choice . . . his last choice.

“Lila!”

I speed up, eyes locked on a taxi parked along the street.

“I met her my first year of college.”

His words stop me. The taxi speeds away.

“She was majoring in literature, me in art. We were so young, maybe too young, but we made it through four years. When I asked her to marry me, I did it because I couldn’t imagine what a day would be like without her.”

When he’s quiet for a few seconds, I turn around, wondering if he’s still there. He is, and he looks so freaking wounded that I feel like the villain. “So what happened?” I ask, feeling there’s got to be more to the story.

“I failed.”

“At what?”

He shrugs. “Everything.”

My heart’s not just sinking . . . it’s lying at my feet. There’s not much I can say to that. “Is that why you don’t do relationships?”

“It’s why I don’t do a lot of things.”

A cool breeze blows between us. Nighttime out here is as quiet as it is dark. It’s been a long day—for both of us—and though there’s so much more I want to know, I’ve had enough. Emotionally spent doesn’t even begin to describe it.

“I think we should go,” I finally say, pulling my jacket tighter around my body.

He walks to me slowly like he’s not quite sure what to expect. His eyes glisten under the moonlight. “Let’s find a cab.”

Without a single word, I walk by his side. We exist, but not together, and all I want to do is make us better.

On a late, cold Chicago night, there’s not much competition at the pier. He hails the first cab that roars down the street, holding the door for me to slide in first. I focus my attention out the window, at the streetlights. I wonder what she’s like—does he compare me to her? Does he ever think about her when he’s buried inside of me? And how is Pierce connected to all this? Was he with her too?

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Tonight wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

It’s my last night at Charlie’s. I thought I’d struggle to get there, to finish out my last night, but I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. Charlie’s welcomed me to Chicago even if it wasn’t always in the best way. It’s where I met Dana, who has quickly become one of my best friends.

It’s also the last time I’ll make this walk between my apartment and the small line of shops I’ve come to love. I know I’ll still make it up here from time to time, but it won’t be like this.

Pulling my coat tighter around my body, I speed up my pace, eager to escape the cold. My thoughts shift back to last night. It was late when we got back from the pier, and after the ups and downs—the apologies and revelations—I was exhausted. I still don’t know everything, but what he told me was enough to scare me into thinking I may not want to know more. And beyond that, I’m pissed that he kept this from me for so long. He owed me the truth. Especially one that big.

Blake wasn’t home when I woke up this morning. I’d assumed he was at the studio, or doing whatever he does when he disappears. And after what he confessed, I wish I could do the same. Disappear and forget. I wish I could unhear everything he told me, but I need to face the facts.

Blake has a wife he’s made no mention of. He’s taken me, and other women, to his bed without blinking. I pushed him for more information on the way home, but he stopped me. Said we would talk about it later.

Now, here I am—wondering.

Opening the door to Charlie’s, I notice the crowded bar and rowdy college students packed around tables. The college jerks are the one thing I definitely won’t miss.

“Lila!” Dana practically runs up to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

“Hey.” I hug her back. “Ready to rock this place for my last night?”

She pulls back, holding my forearms. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It won’t be the same.” She sticks out her lower lip like a child.

“If Pierce fires me, I might not have a choice.” I’m still worried about how things might change. How will everything that happened in New York affect what I worked so hard for? He’s a man of integrity, but he’s already broken a few rules when it comes to me. What will he think of me if I end up with Blake?

“I’m catching the hint of a juicy story. Go clock in, and we’ll talk about it between tables.”

“I’m going to miss this,” I admit as I walk to the back to hang my coat and punch the clock. I jump right into the swing of things—grabbing drinks for a couple groups that walked in.

When Dana and I finally have a couple minutes of downtime, she begins her usual line of questioning. “Now, why would Pierce even think about firing you?”

“New York was . . . interesting.”

She raises her brow. “Keep going.”

“He kissed me.”

Her brows shoot even higher. “And, what? You’re a horrible kisser? I’m still not following.”

“We ended up in his room, and naked in his bed,” I answer, tracing the rounded wood grain on the bar top—anything to avoid seeing her reaction.

“Holy shit! You fucked your boss? I didn’t know you had it in you . . . no pun intended.”

“I didn’t sleep with him!” I try to keep my voice down, but it’s hard when I’m wound up.

When I glance back over at her, she’s smiling. “Say you didn’t fuck him.”

I roll my eyes, sick of being talked to like this. “I didn’t fuck him.”

“How far did it go then?” I narrow my eyes at her. She continues, “If I’m going to help you out, I have to know.”

I move closer to whisper in her ear. “His head was between my legs.”

“Oh God, so what happened?”

After looking around to make sure no one’s listening, I tell her the rest—about how I’d imagined Blake, about the awkwardness that followed, and our dealings with Wade.

When I’d first met Dana, I never imagined my life would be of any entertainment to her. It’s amazing how fast things change.

“He won’t fire you,” she decides after processing it all.

“You don’t know him.”

“From everything you’ve told me, Lila, he likes you. He’s not going to jeopardize that as long as he thinks he has a chance. Besides, he can’t fire you; it’s sexual harassment.”

She’s right . . . about everything. I hate and love her for it.

I’m about to ask her for some Blake advice when Charlie slaps his palm against the bar. “Are you ladies ready to work now? Just because it’s Lila’s last night doesn’t mean you can fuck around.”

“Sorry, Charlie. We’re just catching up,” I reply.

“Finish later. Two tables walked in while you hens were clucking.”

Turning around, I immediately spot the new table of thirty-somethings looking our way, but the other is harder to find.

“Did you know he was coming?” Dana asks, bumping her shoulder against mine.

“Who?” Still scanning, I see nothing.

She points to the far corner, the one partially hidden by the entryway. “There.”

He looks lost, staring blankly out the window. I wonder what he’s thinking about—if it’s her or me or no one at all.

“Do you want me to grab him?” Dana asks, cutting through my thoughts.

“I’ll take it,” I say, pushing away from the bar without another word.

My ears ring as I slowly weave my way through the tables. I have so many questions.

“Hi,” I say quietly, taking a seat across from him.

Blake’s eyes briefly lock with mine then out the window again. “Do you need a ride home tonight?”

I shake my head then realize he probably can’t see me. “No. It’s my last night so Dana wants to sit around and have a drink or two.”

His mood hasn’t changed much since we got home last night.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, needing to carve into the silence.

He studies me like we’ve never met before. “Ask me,” he finally says.

I hate seeing him like this—a mess of emotions I can’t place.

“About last night . . . I can tell you’re dying to know more, so ask me,” he continues.

Shaking my head, I say, “Not here, Blake. Not right now.”

He pounds his fist against the table. “Now!”

I hesitate, because deep inside I know he won’t handle this well. One question, and I’ll be done . . . he’ll be done with me. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone. She left me,” he says, eyes never leaving mine.

That makes sense, I guess. Why mention her if she’s no longer in the picture? “Are you still in love with her?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing my luck.

“I love her, but I’m not in love with her. There’s a difference.”

Truer words have never been spoken; I know that from experience. Love comes in many forms, and once you feel it for someone, I don’t think it’s possible to ever completely let it go. It lingers in its most simple state, taking a permanent place in your heart.

“I’m sorry,” I reply when nothing else comes to mind.

He pulls his hair between his fingers. “Don’t be. Just bring me a bottle of Absolut.”

“A bottle?”

“Yes,” he answers on edge. He dismisses me by staring out the window again. Maybe I should be angry about him coming here, but I can’t be. Not when he’s finally turning the pages of his story, answering some of my questions about why he is the way he is. Besides, friends stick by each other’s sides, even when things aren’t picture perfect.

I leave him alone, walking back to the bar to read Charlie Blake’s order for self-medication. “Did you tell him how much it’s going to cost?” he asks, standing on his toes to grab a bottle from the top shelf.

“I don’t think he cares. Besides, this one’s on me.”

“Well, in that case, I suggest you get your ass out to your tables a little more often to earn your tips.” Charlie’s not joking either.

“Thanks for the advice. Can I get a shot glass too?” I ask, tightly gripping the neck of the bottle in my hand. Someone’s bound to bump into me, and I can’t exactly afford another. Charlie slams a glass on the counter; I grab that too.

My palms sweat against the glass as I make my way back over to Blake. His eyes follow me like a stalker in the night, yet I want his attention. I want to know he’s thinking about me.

“Here,” I announce, setting the bottle in front of Blake. I don’t even recognize him tonight. I’ve caught glimpses of the charming one and more than my fair share of the asshole I’d met first, but this distant, sad version is new to me.

He wastes no time twisting the lid off the vodka bottle and filling his glass. He throws it back, and tops it off again. “Have you ever been in love?” he asks.

“Once,” I answer, taking the seat next to him so I can keep an eye on things at the bar.

He grips my chair, pulling it closer until our knees touch. Then he takes his second shot. The alcohol doesn’t seem to faze him. “What happened?”

“He decided he didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

He nods, pouring more of the clear liquid in his glass. “Well, he’s an idiot.”

When he goes to lift the glass to his lips again, I grab hold of his wrist. I’m not willing to watch him self-destruct. He’s just going to wake up tomorrow in this same messed up state; the alcohol only temporarily drowns the memories. “Take it easy.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Don’t get what?” I ask.

He frees his hand from my grip, knocking back another shot.

“You’re the type of woman that men don’t know they want until they’ve already fallen. You’re there, and then you’re just . . . everywhere.”

I swallow, fumbling for words. I heard what he said, but processing it is a bit harder. I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “And is that the type of woman Alyssa is?”

His mouth falls open, but he quickly recovers. “No, that was a conscious fall.”

I nod, debating which could possibly be better. I start to ask another question, but Charlie shouts my name from behind the bar. After waving him off, I turn back to Blake. “I need to get back to work.”

He swirls his shot glass around, eyeing it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “I’ll wait.”

Because I know there’s nothing I can do to free the glass from his hand, I walk away without trying. Tomorrow morning, or even trying to get him home tonight, is going to be a challenge.

I busy myself with drink orders and bussing tables. As the night wears on, my pockets fill with cash, and the room slowly begins to empty.

“I barely got to talk to you tonight,” Dana remarks as she helps me clear my last table.

“My last night would be the busiest. At least Charlie hasn’t had time to convince me to stay, because with all the cash in my pocket, he’d have a good chance.”

She laughs. “Maybe I should go tell him because I’m a selfish bitch, and I want you to stay.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I say, “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t test me.”

“Closing time, ladies! Let’s get this place cleaned up so I can get to bed!” Charlie yells across the room.

As I turn with a full tray in my hand, I notice Blake’s still sitting in the back corner. He looks like shit—slouched shoulders, head buried in his hands.

“You still up for a couple drinks?” Dana asks, coming up behind me.

I look back at Blake, slumped over, and my conscience pulls at me. “I need to get him home. Can I get a rain check?”

She sighs. “Need me to give you a ride?”

“If you don’t mind. I don’t think he’s up for the walk.”

“Get him moving. I’m going to grab our coats and clock us out,” she says, taking the full tray from my hands.

I walk to him slowly, like I might wake an angry un-caged lion if I make a sound. His head comes up, but then slumps forward again.

Upon closer inspection, I note the liquor bottle is empty. I’ll be lucky if he can even walk his ass out of here. “Blake,” I say softly.

He lifts his eyes but nothing more.

“Let’s get you home.” I cradle his elbow in my hands, but he’s almost twice my size. Unless I suddenly get Superman’s powers, this isn’t going to work.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

“Here,” Dana says, bumping her shoulder against mine.

I pull my coat from her arm and quickly throw it on. “I’m going to need some help with him,” I admit.

“You take one arm, I’ll grab the other. My car is right out back.”

“Don’t need help,” Blake mutters, rubbing his fingers along his forehead.

I sigh, anticipating what’s ahead as Dana and I each grab hold of one of his arms. “Let’s get you home and into bed.”

“Only if you’re coming to bed with me, Lemon Drop,” he stutters, trying to hold himself up. I ignore him; he won’t remember any of this a few minutes anyway.

We sneak out back without more than a simple goodbye to Charlie.

Blake shifts between carrying some of his weight and being completely dead weight. Almost too much for two girls coming off a long shift.

“She’s not coming,” Blake remarks when he catches his first glimpse of Dana.

“She’s driving.”

He grumbles. I swear to God if he gets sick, I’m going to kill him. “I mean . . . she’s not sleeping with me. It’s just you and me now, baby.”

I don’t reply because there’s no reason to. I manage to keep him on his feet while Dana opens the back door. My intention was to lay him down inside, but he won’t let go.

“Blake.”

His cold fingers tighten around mine. I give up, climbing in behind him. His head rests on my lap. On instinct, my fingers tangle in his hair. When you care about someone, even if it’s the crazy way I feel for Blake, you want to take care of them when they’re hurting.

In the short ride to our apartment, he drifts off. It gives me a chance to reflect on the last twenty-four hours. On exposed secrets. Truths still unspoken. The heartbreak it caused. When it’s all said and done, it’s going to be the things I still don’t know that determine the outcome of this. Of us.