I flinch at his language though I’m not sure it’s because of his crudeness or that it ignited a hot flare of interest inside me. I’m praying for the former. “Well you could have fooled me.”
Some students brush past us, heading to the stairs. Blake reaches out and grabs my elbow, leading me out of their way and over to the wall. His grip on my arm is firm and gentle at the same time and what little intimacy this is surprises me.
He moves me so that my back is against the wall and peers down at me intensely. I’ve seen this look before when he’s discussing his character and it makes me feel slightly off-balance. I swallow thickly.
“I just found out that my dad and stepmum are getting divorced,” he says in a low voice. “It caught me off-guard though clearly I was missing all the signs. Anyway, my stepbrother Kevin was having a hard go of it all. They still haven’t told him but the chap is smart, he knows. They asked me to stay for dinner and I couldn’t say no. I’m really sorry I had to do that, I was looking forward to seeing you.” He pauses, blinking a few times. “I mean, I was looking forward to working with you on the novella. But I don’t mind seeing you either. Especially that arse of yours.”
So many things flying through my head at once. I push the comment about my arse aside since it’s not the first time he’s made some remark about one body part or another. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “You should have just said that.”
“Well I obviously called you to tell you the truth but once you got all fiery like the barmy redhead you are, it was hard not to fan the flames. So I’m sorry for that.” He holds his hand out. “Apology accepted?”
I put my hand in his and he squeezes it tightly. “Accepted.” His brow quirks and I feel a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. “And I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. You had a good excuse.”
“You mean a threesome isn’t a good excuse?”
“Not unless it’s like your life’s goal or something.”
He puts his hand at my back and leads me away from the wall to the stairs. “I’m pretty sure a threesome is every guy’s life goal.”
“Fair enough.”
We head up the stairs and pause outside the classroom just as Ali slides past us, giving Blake the death stare. Clearly she’s still not over him or the Fluffy incident and I’m not sure I blame her.
“My groveling isn’t complete you know,” he says to me.
“Well you haven’t gotten down on your knees,” I muse jokingly, tapping my fingers against my chin.
“Darling, when I get down on my knees I’ll be paying it back in a different way,” he says and I swear there’s a change in his tone, like his voice got deeper, his accent huskier.
Don’t even picture it, I warn myself.
He goes on. “Dinner. Tonight. After class. My treat.”
My head jerks back like he just grew an extra ear. “Dinner? No way.”
“We’re friends,” he protests.
“We are not friends,” I remind him. “Partners. Classmates. Maybe POW buddies. But we’re not friends.”
“You’re a very cruel woman.”
“I’m a smart woman, but thanks for not referring to me as a girl like usual. Dinner is too intimate and we’re supposed to work, not eat.”
“What about working and then eating?”
“What about just working?”
“What about not being a stick in the mud,” he volleys back.
“What about taking me for a drink,” I finish, surprising myself.
It surprises him too. He grins and those dimples deepen. “All right, a drink. I’m buying.”
“You sure are,” I tell him. “But only after we get some work done.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Interestingly enough, this is the first class where time seems to crawl past. Usually this class is over before I know it and I’m hanging onto Marie’s every word. This time, all I can think about is Blake.
Blake.
Blake.
I’ve turned into the rest of them, feeling strangely satisfied that I’m going for drinks with him after class even though I’m sure it’s what half the girls in here have done. I’m sneaking glances his way and when his eyes meet mine something in my stomach turns over, happily, like a puppy rolling over. But it’s not surrender. It doesn’t even have a name.
At least you’re not thinking about Alan and the colossal mistake you might have made by not saying yes, I remind myself and damn it, it’s like my mother takes possession of my brain every now and then.
By the time class grinds to a halt, I’m wanting a drink more than ever. I walk off with Blake and catch Rio giving me the I knew it look out of the corner of my eye.
“Where to?” I ask as we stride across the parking lot to his car.
“Ever been to Spinnakers?” he asks. “Brew pub out toward Esquimalt?”
I’d heard of it but never been there. Alan was always a fan of the fancier places downtown and certainly not brew pubs.
“Is this place safe?” I ask him as we get inside Mr. Mean, after clearing the usual crap from the passenger seat.
“Safe?” Blake asks leaning toward me, a piece of his messy hair flopping onto his forehead. I fight the urge to reach over and brush it off his face.
“Should I get a poncho for the beer spillage?” I explain.