here.”
“Perfect.” My pulse raced. “What a sweetheart.”
He smiled again and I walked towards the door. How I’d get inside, I had no idea. Even if Blake answered, how would I explain myself in two seconds, so that Andrey didn’t suspect it wasn’t my house?
I pounded on the door. Knowing Blake, he’d be on the verge of a hangover. It would take a herd of elephants to rouse him from bed.
I pounded again, offering a weak smile up to Andrey. I waved my fingers.
“Roommate,” I called back to the Russian. I shrugged my shoulders. “I left my keys at the bar… dumb mistake.”
He nodded with a patience I found rare in men.
I pounded again. “Blake, open up.”
My palms started to sweat as I open fist knocked on the crappy front door.
To my extreme relief, the lock clicked, and a shirtless, extraordinarily toned Blake stood before me. I shielded him from Andrey’s view as best I could. I definitely didn’t want Andrey to see him, not since we’d made a date seconds ago (for work, I reiterated to my brain).
“What are you, a sexy baby?” A slow smile spread across Blake’s face as he surveyed my matted, partially unzipped and thoroughly unattractive outfit.
I scowled. “There’s a man standing behind me, and if you don’t let me in he’ll kill us both.”
To my surprise, Blake let me right in. I turned and gave another tiny wave to Andrey. He blew me a kiss before roaring off in his spiffy little car.
“Wow, you believed me?” I tried to zip up the suit over my exposed chest, but the zipper snagged somewhere near my belly button.
“Well, as I don’t know anything about your life, why should I?” Blake stared at my chest. “Wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me.”
“Do you have a sweatshirt?” I refused to comment on his snarkiness. Blake and I had been compatible in every way: in bed, in the car, in the movie theater, in the tree in his backyard (that was once, and it’s a long story). We were also compatible outside of sex. He was cool on the outside but nerdy on the inside, just the way I liked my men. We’d had a wonderful two years and had even been talking engagement, but when he asked to meet my family, I couldn’t bring myself to introduce him.
Blake had met only one person from my family, and that was sweet ole’ Clay. I put my foot down anywhere past that. It wasn’t that I thought Blake would judge me or run away, it was just… my grandfather and caregiver was the head of the Mafia . Let’s just say I wasn’t quite sure how to make the introduction. And I really didn’t want to lose Blake.
Which, in retrospect, hadn’t worked out quite like I’d hoped. I’d been praying he’d be okay eloping and meeting my Family later, when he was stuck with me. It might have been a little sneaky, but I was certain I could’ve convinced him to understand my reasoning.
But then it’d all blown up in my face. Blake had broken up with me out of the blue after I refused to bring him with me to Nora’s birthday party. I’d told him I was going to my grandparent’s for lunch to celebrate her birthday, which was why I couldn’t do bottomless mimosas. And Blake – though a tough guy, was really sweet at heart – had shown up at my apartment at ten a.m. with a bouquet of flowers for my Grandma. I was just heading out the door.
He’d stared at me, and I remember the words he’d spoken. His eyes were firm but kind. He’d said, “Lacey, I love you. It’s been two years, but I can’t ask you to marry you if I don’t know your family. I’d love if I could meet them today. You know it won’t change how I feel about you, no matter how crazy they are.”
Just thinking of how I’d reacted made my stomach queasy with regret. If I could take it back, I would. I would say, “Of course, Blake. Come meet my family. Then you can see for yourself where I come from, and if you want to run after that, then I won’t blame you.”
What I did say, was nothing. Instead, I
“Perfect.” My pulse raced. “What a sweetheart.”
He smiled again and I walked towards the door. How I’d get inside, I had no idea. Even if Blake answered, how would I explain myself in two seconds, so that Andrey didn’t suspect it wasn’t my house?
I pounded on the door. Knowing Blake, he’d be on the verge of a hangover. It would take a herd of elephants to rouse him from bed.
I pounded again, offering a weak smile up to Andrey. I waved my fingers.
“Roommate,” I called back to the Russian. I shrugged my shoulders. “I left my keys at the bar… dumb mistake.”
He nodded with a patience I found rare in men.
I pounded again. “Blake, open up.”
My palms started to sweat as I open fist knocked on the crappy front door.
To my extreme relief, the lock clicked, and a shirtless, extraordinarily toned Blake stood before me. I shielded him from Andrey’s view as best I could. I definitely didn’t want Andrey to see him, not since we’d made a date seconds ago (for work, I reiterated to my brain).
“What are you, a sexy baby?” A slow smile spread across Blake’s face as he surveyed my matted, partially unzipped and thoroughly unattractive outfit.
I scowled. “There’s a man standing behind me, and if you don’t let me in he’ll kill us both.”
To my surprise, Blake let me right in. I turned and gave another tiny wave to Andrey. He blew me a kiss before roaring off in his spiffy little car.
“Wow, you believed me?” I tried to zip up the suit over my exposed chest, but the zipper snagged somewhere near my belly button.
“Well, as I don’t know anything about your life, why should I?” Blake stared at my chest. “Wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me.”
“Do you have a sweatshirt?” I refused to comment on his snarkiness. Blake and I had been compatible in every way: in bed, in the car, in the movie theater, in the tree in his backyard (that was once, and it’s a long story). We were also compatible outside of sex. He was cool on the outside but nerdy on the inside, just the way I liked my men. We’d had a wonderful two years and had even been talking engagement, but when he asked to meet my family, I couldn’t bring myself to introduce him.
Blake had met only one person from my family, and that was sweet ole’ Clay. I put my foot down anywhere past that. It wasn’t that I thought Blake would judge me or run away, it was just… my grandfather and caregiver was the head of the Mafia . Let’s just say I wasn’t quite sure how to make the introduction. And I really didn’t want to lose Blake.
Which, in retrospect, hadn’t worked out quite like I’d hoped. I’d been praying he’d be okay eloping and meeting my Family later, when he was stuck with me. It might have been a little sneaky, but I was certain I could’ve convinced him to understand my reasoning.
But then it’d all blown up in my face. Blake had broken up with me out of the blue after I refused to bring him with me to Nora’s birthday party. I’d told him I was going to my grandparent’s for lunch to celebrate her birthday, which was why I couldn’t do bottomless mimosas. And Blake – though a tough guy, was really sweet at heart – had shown up at my apartment at ten a.m. with a bouquet of flowers for my Grandma. I was just heading out the door.
He’d stared at me, and I remember the words he’d spoken. His eyes were firm but kind. He’d said, “Lacey, I love you. It’s been two years, but I can’t ask you to marry you if I don’t know your family. I’d love if I could meet them today. You know it won’t change how I feel about you, no matter how crazy they are.”
Just thinking of how I’d reacted made my stomach queasy with regret. If I could take it back, I would. I would say, “Of course, Blake. Come meet my family. Then you can see for yourself where I come from, and if you want to run after that, then I won’t blame you.”
What I did say, was nothing. Instead, I
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