Page 51 of What We Break
"But I haven't showered. And I was going to change my shirt. And my hair—" I reach up and feel the disaster zone Blake created. "I look like I lost a fight with a leaf blower."
"You look fine."
"I look insane."
"Youareinsane. Go."
I run my hands through my hair, trying to make it look less like I've been wrestling, and head for the front door. Through the window, I can see Laine standing on our porch, holding a grocery bag and looking around at the property.
When I open the door, she smiles that easy smile that makes my chest feel warm.
She's actually here. She's standing on my porch, holding a grocery bag, looking like the best thing I've ever seen. I half expected an apology text. A last-minute cancellation. This shit is too good to be true.
But she didn't bail.
"Hey."
God, I can't stop the smile that covers my face. I don't want to. "Hey yourself. You're right on time."
"I'm actually two minutes early. I was sitting in my car trying not to seem too eager." She grins. "It didn't work."
She's fucking adorable. "I'm so glad to see you."
She's wearing jeans and a soft-looking sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders. She looks comfortable and real and beautiful, and Blake was right—this is so much better than some stuffy restaurant.
She holds up the bulging shopping bag. "I brought supplies."
"Come in," I say, taking the bag and stepping aside. "Welcome to our place."
Laine steps into the living room, looking around. "Wow, this isreally nice. I love the original hardwood."
So do I. I didn't while we were sanding, and cursing at each other. But it does look pretty spectacular. "Thanks. Blake's the guy with the skills. I just do whatever he tells me to do."
"Don't let him fool you," Blake says, appearing from the kitchen. Blake's cleaned most of the sawdust off himself, though there's still some in his hair and a smear of wood stain on his jaw he missed. "He's got decent— aw fuck. I'm sorry. I can't lie. It's like doing a project with Tigger. He's all over the fucking place."
"Asshole! You didn't have to throw me under the fucking bus."
Laine laughs and steps forward, hand extended. "Blake, right?" Laine says. "I've heard so much about you."
"All lies."
"I doubt that," she says, laughing. "Reid told me a little about your work. It sounds incredible. I have absolutely zero artistic ability, so I'm kinda jealous of your skills."
Blake grunts, shifts his weight. "Keeps me busy." He takes a step back. "It was nice to meet you Laine. I'll get out of your way. Have a good night."
She throws both hands out, like she's going to physically yank him back. "Wait! You're not eating with us?"
Blake's brow furrows. "Wasn't planning on crashing your date."
"When I suggested this, I kind of thought you'd be here too. I don't want to kick you out of your house. That wasn't my plan at all. God, I'm sorry. I should have thought this through." Laine's face is red and she keeps glancing at the door. She's going to bolt.
My heart stutters. She wanted Blake to be here. She wanted to meet him. That's some next level shit.
I am so here for it.
"Stay," I tell Blake, locking eyes with him, trying to tell him not to blow this for me. "It would be good for you two to get to know each other."
Blake glances between Laine and me, jaw tight. Then he exhales through his nose. "Fine. You know what you're doing with this sauce, or are we ordering pizza when you fuck it up?"
