Page 23 of One Week Hating You
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BLAKE PLAYFULLY BITES HIS LIP. He’s totally into it. I shake my head and stare at the floor as I slowly close the distance between us. I hesitate for a moment before settling on his lap. For just a second, I see the same eyes I used to be so familiar with, the laughs we shared, the moments we lived together, and I feel like I belong there, on his lap. Yet when I finally settle my tush down, it feels awkward. I study him for a beat – his smile has faded and his eyes have darkened. He doesn’t think this is funny anymore. Neither do I.
His gaze sticks to mine. His dark brown eyes are as beautiful as ever, and I wonder what he sees in me. Am I just the way I was to him? Or am I someone completely different? Someone he doesn’t like anymore?
“Okay, lovebirds.” Corrie fiddles with her phone. “We need to kick it up a notch.”
We both turn our attention to her.
“Maeve, I want you to wrap your arm around his neck.”
I do as I’m told, and smile tightly at Blake – this is so awkward.
“For the love of God, he doesn’t have cooties. Draw him closer.”
I inch closer, and I spot a hint of a smile on his lips – all that cocky bravado seems to have disappeared. I like him better this way.
“Now Blake, put your hand on her thigh.”
Oh… Lordy.
He slowly draws his large hand to my thigh, and the warmth of it feels so nice on my skin. I venture a look up at him. His eyes are dark, his lips parted. I want to reach out and trace the tips of my fingers along his beard, but I don’t. Of course I don’t. He’s turned on – I can tell. I could always tell.
So am I.
“The hand needs to go further up the thigh,” Corrie calls out. We’re not paying attention to her anymore. There’s just the two of us in this pub.
Blake’s hand slowly travels up my thigh, hiking up my mini skirt along the way. His gaze never leaves mine. I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation of arousal. I’d fuck him right here if it were just the two of us, in another reality.
He presses his mouth close to my ear. “You look fucking amazing tonight,” he whispers. “God, I’d have you in nothing but those shoes.”
I open my eyes again, my mouth dry.
“Okay, that’s good,” Corrie yells. “Perfect. Pretend we’re shooting a porno, guys.”
His hand stops abruptly.
I draw my hand to his face and surrender to the temptation of touching him – his beard feels prickly.
“Oh, that’s good, Maeve. Leave your hand there.” Corrie is pointing her phone at us, completely wrapped up in Operation Let’s-Make-Peter-Squirm. She snaps a few shots. “Don’t move,” she barks. She peruses the photos quickly. “Okay, perfect. These are good. Let’s do a few smiling shots.”
We smile for the camera obediently.
“You two look awkward,” Corrie snaps. “Snuggle in closer, and Blake, make her laugh.”
Blake holds me tighter and pokes a finger in my ribs, making me squirm and laugh. “Remember the time we went to Karaoke for your birthday, and you fell off the stage,” he mutters in my ear.
The memory of that day traces a big grin across my face. My sixteenth birthday. We’d sneaked some booze at his place, and it had been my first time drinking. I was more than a little tipsy.
Corrie snaps a few more photos. “That’s perfect.”
Finally, she turns her back to us. “These shots are great!” She turns on her heel. “But maybe just a selfie or two.” She hands her phone to Blake. “Hurry, I’ve set the timer.”
Five, four, three, two, one…
Snap.
I grab the phone from his hands, eager to see it. It’s a great pic. My face rests comfortably against his. Our hair is wild and free. We both have big genuine smiles on our faces, and our eyes are full of life. In that split second, we don’t have a care in the world. We’re crazy happy.
