Bait (Wake, #1)(58)

We thumb wrestled for the remote and I only let her win the first time, since it was her room and I'd made her sit through a long documentary about the military. To be honest, I didn't watch much of it. I'd already seen it twice.

Since it was her turn, we watched the Food Network and she yelled at the television like it was a sporting event. “That's not real. It's not that easy,” she screamed. She was more entertaining than the show.

Some hours later, lying on our bellies facing the TV, and after we'd ordered ice-cream for six, it seemed, her eyes began to get heavy with sleep. I brushed the hair away from her face and we studied each other for a while.

Her small hands played with my hair. Her finger traced my nose, eyebrows, and lips. She started to hum when she exhaled.

I needed to leave. I couldn't let myself sleep in the same bed with her again.

I didn't want to wake up with her in my arms unless she was mine. And according to the ring she slipped back on when I was in the bathroom, mine she was not.



I let her study me for a little while longer before saying, “I think I'm going to go.”

She pouted and that alone almost changed my mind. But shit. There was only so much a man could take.

“No. Stay here.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows suggestively, trying to persuade me to abandon my reasons instead of her.

I placed a kiss to her forehead and lifted myself off the bed in a push-up type of way, trying not to look into her eyes again. They would cause the dissolving of my will.

“I'll see you tomorrow. We can do something tomorrow night, too, if you want? I'll take you out.” At that she thought. She liked that idea, but her excitement on her face was short lived.

“Okay, but you should just stay here tonight. You had that bad steak. What if you get sick? I know how serious food borne illness can be.” Blake lifted up on one arm and placed the back side of her hand to my face alternating from side to side. “Yep. I was right. You feel hot.”

She was so f*cking adorable.

“I'm glad you think so, honeybee.” I playfully said as I began to reverse, looking for my absentmindedly chucked shoes from earlier. “Like you said, we have an early morning and a long day.”

Her temper peaked. She was still trying to keep her voice animated and light, but I heard the anger growing underneath. “No. Stop putting your shoes on. I'll let you sleep. I was just playing. Promise.” She grew more resilient. “Casey Moore, get back on this bed with me,” she demanded and reached out to pull me on top of her, but I tugged away.

“Just stop. I can't stay. Okay? I'll see you in the morning.”

“You can't stay or you don't want to?” That made twice in one day that exact tone entered my ears.

“Calm down, Blake. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight,” I said trying to qualm an escalating argument.

“Whatever. I need to call Grant anyway,” she said under her breath, but I felt it sear right through my back. I tensed and stopped as I was about to turn the doorknob, letting myself out.

“I'll let that slide, because I did it to you earlier,” I said. Then, I turned around to make sure she got the next part loud and clear. “Don't use your relationship with him as a weapon against me out of spite, Blake. I already f*cking hate it enough.”

I watched her cringe, scowl, and then soften in less time than it tooks to blink an eye. I couldn't be here for another minute longer.

“Goodnight,” I repeated and shut the door gently on my way out.

Even though I'd been the one to make the choice, I'd be lonely in bed without her.





Saturday, October 11, 2008


I WAS SO LONELY in that big bed after he left. I lay on my back, looking up at the ugly popcorn ceiling, thinking about everything. Again, my mind went to that pretend place where Casey was my boyfriend and then I fell into a wonderful sleep.

I dreamed that we were in a grocery store buying food and he kept filling the cart with paper towels. When I woke up remembering it, I thought to myself, I'll need all of those paper towels to clean up the huge mess I was making.

I dressed in a camel-colored, pleated skirt and a sleeveless black top, paired with some sensible black leather flats. I pinned my hair up in the back loosely and arranged my now longish bangs over to the side, to keep them out of my eyes. I wore my thick-framed, black glasses and minimal make up. This was a work event after all, not fashion week.

When I got to the convention center floor, I noted that Troy was already at the table across from mine and had everything ready to go. My help for the day was Melanie, and she was there, too. They were laughing at something when I walked up the aisle.

“Good morning, Melanie. How's it going?” I asked as I stowed my bag under a chair behind our tall signs.

“Good, so you know that guy?” she whispered with a blush across her cheeks. I could already see where that was headed. But they were both grown-ups, and really, who was I to question someone's behavior.

Melanie knew I was engaged.

She lived in San Francisco, same as the boys.

Who knew? She and Troy might actually hit it off. Melanie was just as crazy as what I'd seen out of Troy the night before. And she didn't have a problem hooking up at events, as I'd witnessed a few times over the past few months.

“Yeah, he's here with a guy I know. They live in San Francisco, too.” I could tell Troy was listening to our conversation, so I said louder, for his benefit, “Isn't that right, Troy?”