Accidentally Amy(28)

She looked up at the pull-up bar, then back at the camera. “I mean, I suppose you could do that if you’re a pathetic little workout monkey, but this machine is for your core, dumbass.”
“It is not, dumbass.” He crossed his arms and said, “It’s for pullups, and the part you’re using for your core is for back pullups.”
“That doesn’t even sound real, back pullups,” she said, walking toward her phone and carrying it with her as she sat back down. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I have the same machine, Shay,” he said.
“Then show me or it’s not true, Phillips,” she replied, her stubborn chin raised.
Blake stood and started walking toward the spare bedroom. “Fine, but you’re about to feel really stupid.”


    Izzy
Holy crap – his bedroom.
Izzy saw it in a flash as he walked down the hall with the camera facing forward, but it was too quick for her to register anything other than a very big bed.
Of course he had a big bed.
He flipped on the lights in another bedroom that appeared to be an office/workout room. There was a big desk, along with a treadmill, an exercise bike, and a workout tower exactly like hers.
He set the phone down – she assumed on the desk – so it faced the tower.
“Ohmigod - am I going to see the chestal secrets of Mr. Chest’s chest?” she asked.
“You wish,” Blake said, and then he reached up with his long arms and grabbed the pullup bar. Without a word, he started doing pullups as if they were the easiest thing in the world.
“Booooo,” she said, giggling as her eyes were treated to Blake’s Feats of Strength. “That’s lame. Total weak sauce.”
“I haven’t heard that expression since middle school,” he said while not slowing or ruining his perfect form.
“I haven’t said it since then.” Izzy couldn’t help but notice the hard strip of stomach that was exposed by his raised arms. Not only that, but his shorts hung low on his hips, so low that she could see that jutting hipbone thing that was pretty much an anatomical aphrodisiac.
Sweet holy hipbones, she needed smelling salts.
“Stop it, you pathetic loser, before I puke,” she said. “Your form is atrocious.”
He dropped himself to the floor and beamed at the camera, smiling in a way that made her feel like he knew how hot she was for him. “Sure it is.”
“What about the other part?” she asked, but she felt like a perv as she said it because she was basically just requesting that he perform another Feat of Strength. “I think you made up something called a back pull-up…?”
He went around to the other side and started doing dip-down things that made her want to bite his apple-bottom biceps, so she said, “Oh, those. I did like a hundo this morning.”
He dismounted, winked and said, “Okay, Iz.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t you have some chickens to eat or something?”
“Trying to get rid of me?” he asked, turning off the light and heading back in the direction of the living room (or so she thought from this initial Facetime visit to his apartment).
“I probably should - it’s pretty late,” she said, not wanting to get off the phone but knowing it was the responsible thing to do.
“Yeah - I suppose you’re right,” he replied, a serious expression crossing his face for the briefest of seconds. His eyes seemed to search her face as he said, “I’m sure you have more pizza to eat, anyway.”
“There are a few leftover pieces,” she agreed, and there was something so warm and comfortable about their mutual teasing that she was already homesick for it, even though they weren’t even off the phone yet.
They made plans for him to pick her up the following day, after work, to get things rolling with her car. But after the call was disconnected, Izzy couldn’t settle down enough to even consider sleep. She was wired, all keyed-up from hours of Blake, and she kind of didn’t know what to do with herself.
She turned off the lights, laid down, and was trying to force sleep when her phone buzzed on her nightstand.
She rolled over and picked it up.
Blake: You awake?
She grabbed her glasses and slid them back on her nose before responding. Sadly, yes. Wide awake.
Blake: Good.
Izzy: Mean.
Blake: I was thinking - you should probably come over to my place tomorrow.
Izzy gasped and sat straight up in bed. Whaaaat? He wanted her to come over? How was she even supposed to respond to that?
Blake: I leave for Boston really early Wed. morning, so I should probably show you everything you need to know about the cats.
That’s right - the cats. She rubbed her fingertips over her eyebrows and sighed. Texted: That works - after we go to the impound lot?
Blake: Yeah. I was thinking I can order a pizza for you to inhale while you meet the boys.
Izzy was trying to keep her brain from overload, but she was going to be eating dinner with Blake tomorrow. Just she and Blake, alone in his apartment. With his very big bed. And his pull-up abdominals.
Gahhhh.
Also, trying to remember that she could only like him as a friend – that they would only ever be friends – was incredibly difficult when she was more attracted to him than she’d been to anyone.
Like, ever.
In her entire life.
She was trying to get a grip on her whirling Blake thoughts when he sent another text.
Blake: Would you consider staying at my apartment while I’m gone? I hate to ask, but I hate leaving Goodyear alone even more. And this way you won’t have to keep coming and going; way easier.