Chapter 21
Izzy How was Blake’s bed so unbelievably comfortable? Izzy opened her eyes and sighed happily, her head on the downy-soft pillow, her body buried by the heavy down duvet. She was floating in a sea of dream bedding, bobbing in an ocean of warm comfort that smelled like bleach and Blake, and she didn’t want to ever get up. She rolled over, grabbed her glasses from the nightstand, and put them on. She was alone in the bed, in the dark, but when she sat up, she could see that Blake was in the huge walk-in closet on the other side of the room. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror in suit pants and a dress shirt, tying his tie. Dear lord, the breadth of that perfect chest. His hair was damp, his feet were bare, and she found herself incredibly smitten as she watched him. So, this is how Blake transforms into VP Blake. There was just something so…intimate about watching him ready himself for work. She froze, careful not to move a muscle and ruin the routine by interrupting. She wanted to memorize every mundane task for future mental playback. He turned to a stack of drawers that were built into the closet and pulled out a rolled-up pair of socks. “Good morning, Shay,” he said, not looking at her. His voice was scratchy, like he hadn’t used it yet, and something about it made her breathless. “How’d you know I was awake?” she asked, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs. “I was so quiet.” He exited the closet, giving her a look as he walked toward the bed with only that sliver of light illuminating the room. “That’s how I knew. Are you aware of the fact that you are never motionless – like, ever – when you’re asleep?” She shrugged. “I maybe toss and turn a little.” “I damn-near got sea sick,” he teased, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her. “Did I keep you up?” she asked, wondering how he could look so perfect at 6:23 in the morning. “Nah. Your constant motion just served as a reminder that Isabella Shay was in my bed, which made me sleep like a baby.” That made her smile, and then her heart skipped a beat when he leaned closer and gave her a sweet peck on the mouth, the kind of kiss a man placed on his partner’s lips every morning before their days began. “So, what are your plans for today?” he asked, turning his attention to his socks. Blake unrolled the pair, propped his left foot on his right knee, and pulled on the first sock. “Pizza in bed?” Izzy switched on the lamp and got up, stretching before walking over to the master bathroom. “I’m going to apply for as many jobs as I can, go for a long run, and perhaps take a nap because someone didn’t let me get any sleep last night.” She flipped on the bathroom light and looked in the mirror. Gah – her hair was everywhere. Izzy grabbed Blake’s brush and attempted to get her bedhead under control. “I’m not sorry, and also, I was thinking I can walk to work today so you can use my car.” Izzy glanced over at him through the doorway. “I’m not going to take your car.” “Why not?” He got up from the bed and walked back over to the closet. “You can use it all day, and then I’ll just force you to pick me up after work and stay over in my bed again.” She’d be lying if she said that didn’t make her blissfully happy. “You shouldn’t have to walk to work, and also, um, you drive an Audi.” She heard him doing something in his closet as he barked, “So?” Izzy turned on the water and put soap in her hands. “So it’s too nice.” She started washing her face, in love with the smell of his soap, the clean minimalism of his bathroom, and even the fact that his expensive watch was sitting on the vanity beside a bottle of cologne. She felt like she was surrounded by Blake and it was perfection. She was just leaning down to splash water over her cheeks and wash away the suds when he appeared behind her in the mirror. “Is it weird that I’m kind of into the idea of you borrowing my car?” His eyes were crinkly around the edges, his mouth soft as he met her eyes in the mirror and said, “Yeah, it’s weird.” She turned around, her face covered in soapy lather, and she said, “Do you know how busy I want to get with you when you’re weird?” That made him full-on smile and give his head a shake. “Didn’t we talk about the phrase getting busy?” Izzy grinned back at him, running a hand over his tie and the hard chest underneath it. “Sorry. What I meant to say was - do you know how bangable you are when you’re digging me?” “Digging you.” Blake put his big hand over hers, trapping it against his sternum. “What if you drive me to work, then take the car to your place?” Izzy could die of happiness when Blake stood there like that, not trying to be cool about wanting to see her again. She said, “I guess that works, but only if you promise not to get mad if I drive too fast.” He laughed, a rumbly chuckle that came from deep within his chest. “I cannot make that promise.” “Well then I cannot-” “For the love of God, Iz, rinse off the soap,” he interrupted, laughing a little harder as he put his big hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Before you get foam in your eyes.” Izzy laughed, too, when she saw the big blobs of soap that were dangling precariously, about to drip off of her face. Her giggles got stuck in her throat, though, when she raised her eyes to his. Heat, warmth, and something more – wonderfully, perfectly more – hovered between them. “I’m going to go take care of the boys before you distract me and make me late,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Think you’ll be ready to go in twenty?” She nodded and turned the water back on. “Yep.” “Want to stop for a PSL on the way, Amy?” “You know that I do, Chest.”
7:45 a.m. Blake: You home? Izzy: Yep. Just got here. Blake: And my car…? Izzy: Totaled. Blake: Thank you for taking such good care of it. Izzy: I’m seriously obsessed with it. All I want to do is drive. Blake: You can, y’know. Izzy: I fear I might accidentally commit GTA and disappear from the area if I spend any more time with him. Blake: HIM? Izzy: That car is a sleek, fast, sexy bastard. TOTALLY a dude. Blake: Agree to disagree. Izzy: How’s work btw? Blake: Fine. I think I might miss you (or else I need some Tums). Izzy: Can’t you miss me AND need Tums? Blake: I miss you and need a Tum. Izzy: I can bring you one. Blake: Without GTA temptation? Izzy: Hmmm…. Blake: It’s only been 30 minutes since you dropped me off. I say we hold off on the Tum delivery. Izzy: LMK if you change your mind. Blake: Will do. I have a meeting in a few minutes so I should probably go. Izzy: I think I’m going to miss you. Or need a Tum. Blake: Not “think,” Iz – you KNOW. Try it again – all together this time. Izzy: I know I’m going to miss you, Phillips. Blake: Ditto, Shay.
11:15 a.m. Izzy: You should come over for lunch. I’ll make you something with the ketchup, soy sauce and American cheese in my fridge if you’re nice to me. Blake: Damn, girl, you really know how to tempt a guy. Izzy: Right? And I’m wearing my grandma’s housecoat at the moment, so I’ll even look sexy AF while I cook. Blake: SO tempting, but I have no car, remember? Izzy: I could come get you… Blake: I have a meeting at 1:15, so there isn’t really enough time. Izzy: What if I make you ACTUAL food and I wear ACTUAL clothes? Then would you be interested? Blake: Baby, you could wear any-fucking-thing, serving any-ass-food, and I would be frothing-at-the-mouth interested. Izzy: Ooh – I’m “baby” again. Will you say it NOW? Blake: NO. Izzy: Pleeeeeeeeease? Blake: What do I get if I say it? Izzy: My mouth on your— Blake: …..my what?? My WHAT, SHAY???? Izzy: Say it and I’ll tell you. B lake: SIGH. Ahem. “Are you lost, Baby Girl?” Izzy: Gawwwwwwwwd. {fans self} Get your ass over here, Chest. Blake: No car and meeting at one, remember? Izzy: Yes, that’s right (wipes sweat beads off upper lip). Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, Phillips, but I can’t wait to see you at 5. I’m literally counting the hours until I can pick you up. Weird, right? Blake: Absolutely bizarre, yet I feel the EXACT same way. I think we might’ve eaten spoiled meat or something. Izzy: For sure. This whole thing is either love or spoiled meat. Blake: Well, then - I spoiled meat you. Izzy: I spoiled meat you, too.
Blake 11:45 a.m. Blake pressed the buzzer and waited. And waited. He knew she was home because his car was parked out front, but she wasn’t answering the door. He texted: What are you doing? Izzy: Job applications. Blake: Aren’t you going to answer the door? Izzy: That’s you?? Blake: Yup. The door opened and there she was, looking at him with a crinkle between her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” He straightened from his doorway lean and held out the bouquet of daisies. “My 1:15 meeting was cancelled, so I decided to take the afternoon off. Pizza’s on the way.” She kept squinting at him. “Who was the meeting with?” “Brad,” he said. “Why did he cancel?” “He didn’t,” he said, and he watched as her eyes moved all over his face. “I did.” “You cancelled your meeting.” Her face changed then, morphing from confusion to straight-up fucking sunshine. Her nose crinkled and her green eyes squinted and her lips slid into a huge grin. “Get your ass in here, Chest.” Izzy grabbed the flowers and went inside. Blake followed. “I’m going to get a vase for these,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “Be right back.” Blake started to follow, but she stopped, put out a hand and said, “You can turn on the TV or something. I’ll be right back.” “Oh-kay,” he said, watching as she disappeared into the other room. He paced around the living room for a minute and petted The Darkling, but he couldn’t ignore the noises from the kitchen. It sounded like she was chasing a mouse or something, like she was running and bumping into walls and knocking things over. He quietly approached the doorway, and then he got that feeling in his chest again, the pinch, only it was the hardest it’d ever been. That pinching feeling almost brought tears to his eyes as he watched her try to hide…everything. “Iz,” he said, and she froze. “This, um, is just…” She looked around at the kitchen, obviously trying to formulate some logical explanation. “Like a cleanup effort--” “Did you go get all of this?” he asked, not meaning to sound so gruff. She looked at him like she didn’t want to admit it, but also like she knew he could see the answer. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” “Why?” He walked toward her, at her, crowding and stalking and just needing to be closer. She took a step backward, but he didn’t stop until her back was against the counter, her front pressed to his. “Did you actually get in the dumpster?” She gnawed on her lower lip and shrugged. He took her chin in his thumb and forefinger, raising her gaze, loving every expression that crossed the expanse of her face. “Is that the bottle of wine? And the pizza box?” Some of the things he’d brought her the day before – the wine, the gallon of ice cream, the flowers – had apparently been rescued from the dumpster. The flowers were wilted and shredded and limply bending over the sides of a vase she’d put them in. The bottle of wine was in the sink, the label soaked because she’d clearly washed it; there was still a soap bubble on the dark glass. The empty ice cream container, the empty pizza box – they were each sitting on the counter, scrubbed and drying. Izzy sighed and rolled her eyes, embarrassed. “I just wanted to be able to save them, okay? I threw away the gross stuff, um, but…” ' That pinching feeling; fuck, it was going to kill him. He felt almost paralyzed by the strength of it as he looked at his dream girl, surrounded by his gifts that she’d dug out of a dumpster because she wanted to save them. God help him. “Isabella Clarence, I love you so much that I can barely breathe. Please never change, okay?” Her mouth curled into the sweetest smile and she said, “I won’t if you won’t, Blakely, um…shit, I don’t know even your middle name. What’s your middle name?” “Clarence.” He looked down into her face, smiling up at him, and he tried counting the constellation of freckles on her nose. One. Two. Three. Four— “Shut up – you are lying!” He laughed, still just as shocked as the first time he’d heard it, and he knew he’d never get sick of the wild animation of her face. She gaped at him, her pretty mouth wide open, and he said, “Swear to God.” She blinked fast, then gave her head a shake, then wrapped her hand around his tie and gave it a tug. “This is – by far - the most shocking thing I’ve ever heard. Do you believe in fate, Mr. Chest?” Blake swiped his thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks – five, six, seven – and said the absolute truth that he felt in the very center of his soul. “I didn’t until I met you, Starbucks Amy.”