Page 56 of Drive Me Crazy
Josie tips her face up to him. “Just because your friend doesn’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of him, doesn’t mean other blokes are just as stupid.”
Her face isn’t full of anger, it’s full of pity. I’m not sure which one I’d prefer more. Maybe anger?
“I know I had a good thing, Josie.” I sink further into the seat. “I know I fucked up. If anyone would listen to me for a second, they’d know that.”
She looks surprised by my admission. Sighing, she slinksout from under Luc’s arm and moves over to the empty seat next to me. “Then you really are a bloody twit.”
“I know. What do you think I’ve been trying to tell Ella the past week?”
“Probably something to try to get in her pants.”
I deserve the barb even though it stings. My reputation precedes me once again.
“I like her, Josie,” I say earnestly. “I’m trying to prove it and make things right, but I can’t get her to talk to me.”
“You rejected her and now you won’t leave her alone. That’s confusing, Blake.”
My plan depends on Ella’s willingness to listen to me. Given how she’s avoided me this past weekend, I know I need to bring in reinforcements. I spend the next fifteen minutes outlining my plan to Josie. The way her eyes light up makes me feel like I’ve done something right for the first time in a while.
“I can help,” she agrees. “But what she decides is up to her.”
It’s a step in the right direction. Theo rejoins the table and hands me a new drink. I happily accept it. Leaning back in my chair, I have a front-row seat watching Ella’s electric smile from across the room.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ella
CONSIDERING I drank enough tequila to incapacitate a linebacker, it shouldn’t surprise me when I wake up at 5:00 a.m. with a splitting headache. Bits and pieces of my night come back, including Josie wrestling me into my pajamas. I absolutely didnotneed those extra two shots of tequila last night, but not much I can do about that now.
My flight back to London isn’t until tomorrow morning, but there’s no way I can be productive today. Besides a few quick bathroom breaks and a much-needed scalding hot shower, I spend the entirety of my day in bed. Between my parents, my brother, and me, we have access to every streaming site. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Right now, it’s a blessing because I manage to get through over half a season ofLaw & Order: SVU.
Josie’s supposed to come over for a lovely room service dinner, but she cancels at the last minute, saying she forgot she has plans with some marketing people. I’m too tired to think about it or care. Half an episode later, I hear someone at my door. I immediately know it’s Blake. He has such a specific way of knocking. He uses the heel of his palm rather than hisknuckles, making the sound less harsh. I immediately hit pause on my computer. Maybe he just got here and hasn’t heard a perp yelling at Stabler?
“I can hear your TV, Ella. Can you open the door, please?”
No such luck.
“Yes, I can.”That doesn’t mean I’m going to.
Moments go by before I hear Blake sigh. Welcome to the club.
“Willyou open the door, please?”
I bite back a tender smile, knowing he noticed my grammar catch. Blake’s not going away until we talk. He’s made that much clear based on how many times he’s tried to corner me in the past week. I know we need to because I can’t avoid him forever considering my job quite literally depends on speaking with him. Sighing, I reluctantly get out of bed. I take my time putting on my slippers before dragging my feet to the door. I swing it open aggressively.
Blake’s in a tuxedo, looking like he’s walked off the cover ofGQmagazine. His hair is handsomely styled, his face freshly shaven. Forget about his just-rolled-out-of-bed look, this is his take-me-to-your-bed-so-we-can-roll-around look. What is it about men in tuxes? I miraculously manage to keep my expression flat.
I lean against the doorframe to block him from waltzing in. “Did you run out of clean shirts or something?”
He chuckles softly and holds out the most gorgeous bouquet bursting with purple, yellow, white, and pink flowers. They smell like spring. If Marc Jacobs is looking for a new perfume scent, this would be it.
“For you.” Blake coughs and hands the flowers to me.
“They’re beautiful.” I take them from his hands. “Thanks.”
We stand there awkwardly, neither of us saying anything. I finally step back, allowing him inside the room. Part of me wishes I’d tidied up a bit. It looks like I’ve been robbed, withclothing still strewn across the floor leading to the bed. I’m pretty sure there’s a thong on the lamp.
I place the flowers in the small kitchenette. They still look pretty even without a vase. Blake makes himself comfortable on the couch, positioned between the jeans I wore last night and a pair of leggings. I’m not sure where to sit. I don’t trust myself to be next to him when he’s looking like that. Meanwhile, I probably look just as horrible as I feel. The coffee table seems like a safe bet, so I sit on the far edge, leaving a healthy amount of space between us.
