Accidentally Amy(45)

“Totally do,” he laughed, turning the lock.
He looked down at her, grinning up at him with maximum nose crinkle, and he knew he loved her. It didn't make a damn bit of sense, but he loved her so fucking much that it terrified him.
It was total lunacy.
It was way too soon to feel that much - impossible to love her already - but he knew it with absolute certainty.
“By the way, Mr. Chest,” Izzy said, giving him a total smartass smile that made him want to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re no longer the boss of me?”

Chapter 14

Izzy
Izzy scratched Goodyear’s head and watched Blake freak out.
Technically he was just standing beside her in the living room, holding his cat after injecting it with insulin. But his jaw was doing that flexing thing, he kept pulling at his shirt collar, and he hadn’t given her shit since they’d walked in.
In fact, he’d been incredibly polite to her.
Do you want something to drink? he’d asked. And then he followed it with Let me know if you change your mind. What the hell did that even mean? Was he regretting their impetuous elevator liaison and trying to think of a gentle way to tell her that he was not at all interested in a sleepover?
“Y’know what?” he said, barely looking at her as he moved the cat out of her arm’s reach and onto the floor. “This shirt is driving me crazy. Bad detergent or something. I’m going to go change.”
“Okay,” Izzy said, narrowing her eyes and watching as he nearly ran to his bedroom.
Shit, shit, shit. She felt queasy, literally queasy, as she wondered what exactly was up with him. Did he regret the elevator sex? Did he not respect her now? (If that was the case, screw him, but still - ouch) Was he nervous she was looking for a relationship?
Holy crap – was she?
She started pacing, and as she walked toward the big windows with the gorgeous view, she realized that it mattered too much to her. The why of his strange behavior felt like everything at once, like the world would end if he remained aloof and distant.
Dear God, she cared way too much about what he thought. No, no, no. Cared way too much and also felt mildly panicked at the thought of screwing things up with him.
Wait - was she in love with him?
Izzy shook her head and muttered nope into the empty living room. More than friends was light years away from in-love, and she was just getting confused because she hadn’t been more than friends with anybody in, like, an eternity.
She hadn’t known him long enough to know if he was worthy of sharing her favorite banana bread, much less her heart.
Just be cool, moron, and be casual.
Sure, she thought, biting down on her fingernail and staring out over the city. No problem.
    

Blake
Blake yanked his shirt off like it actually had bad detergent, even though his irritation had nothing to do with his oxford. No, his irritation had to do with his conscience and the fact that he had to open that fucking email before he could move forward with Izzy.
As blissful as ignorance had been - seriously it’d been a top five day - it couldn’t be his excuse.
Especially when Izzy had no idea that everything was likely about to change, which he was. Beginning to realize made him an asshole. A huge asshole. He wanted to be with Izzy and he knew she wanted to be with him. But was all they’d done since he received that email just him being a selfish prick? The more he thought about it, the more he began to have second thoughts about everything that had transpired.
Shit.
Blake was freaking out. Although he didn’t know what the email said, more than anything, he knew he would never want to be the reason that Izzy was sad, or mad. Fuck, could his heart even handle seeing her face do anything but smile?
What the hell had he done?
He grabbed a Henley from his closet, pulled it over his head, and as soon as his arms were through the sleeves, he grabbed his phone. He couldn’t wait any longer.
Blake opened the email, dread settling into his stomach. Somehow, he just knew it wasn’t going to be good. He clicked on the link, and--
“Can’t,” he said under his breath, through gritted teeth, swiping out of the attachment before he had a chance to see it. He set his phone on the dresser - face-down - and stepped away from it with his hands up like it was a loaded gun.
Shit, shit, shit. He knew looking at it was the right thing to do, but the part of him that wanted to fall asleep wrapped around Izzy wouldn’t let him. He was too drunk on her, too lost in every crinkle of her freckled nose, to give up the chance to finish the perfect day with a long, perfect night. It was lazy and selfish - he knew that - yet he wasn’t strong enough to stop himself.
He dragged a hand through his hair before opening the bedroom door and going back out into the living room.
“Detergent crisis averted?” Izzy asked, and he was surprised to see her standing next to the door, looking down at her phone with her purse over her shoulder like she was waiting around to leave.
“Are you…leaving?” he asked, disappointment slamming into him.
“Yeah,” she said, looking at him. Her mouth turned up into a smartass grin that didn’t reach her eyes, and her nose didn’t crinkle. Still, she teased, “Our elevator workout made me sleepy, so now I must go crash. And The Darkling needs to be fed.”
He let his gaze move all over her, taking in every square inch that he’d hoped to worship. “But didn’t you feed him just before we left?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, absentmindedly rubbing a finger over her lower lip. “But, um, you know.”