Page 60 of Blindside Love

“I’ve been telling you that, silly,” Ellie says, bumping her hip into mine, a little smirk on her face.

She’s cute like this, relaxed, comfortable, happy. My mood immediately improves, knowing I’m the reason she feels like this.

“I know you did. You’re a mom. You know what it feels like to want to support your kid, so I should’ve listened. I guess hearing it from Liam, who is one of my father’s best friends and also very invested in my career, made me realize it was just as ridiculous as you were telling me it was.”

“Well, I’m glad he was able to talk some sense into you,” she jokes, looking around as we talk. “Ooh! I love photo booths.”

She smiles as we walk by a little photo booth—the ones that shoot out little strips of pictures and girlfriends always wanted to do in high school. Truthfully, I’ve never taken one, but the idea of doing that right now is exciting. Pulling her with me, I slip right into the little booth, pulling her right onto my lap.

In my defense, this booth only has enough room for one of me, so it’s pretty much her only option.

“What are we doing first?” I whisper into her ears as I slip my hands around her waist, loving the way she squirms on top of me as I touch her.

“What—what do you mean?” she asks, her breath hitching just a touch as my hands grip her hips, holding her in place right on my cock.

“What picture, kitten? We have six seconds.”

She turns to look at me, her eyes dark, cheeks red, as she bites her lower lip and just watches me. Right then, the flash goes, taking the first of our pictures, but she doesn’t move right away, she leans in and presses her lips against mine, just enough that they’re touching, but not enough to push for more just yet.

Flash.

She pulls back, turning her face away just a bit, her shy smile in place, and I can’t help but stare at her; she is so damn perfect.

Flash.

I pull her back against my chest, her cheek against mine, and we smile at the camera as the final flash goes off.

I can’t help but feel like I just went through the wringer of emotions in the 40 seconds that it took. I went from wanting to bend her over inside the photo booth to feeling cared for and then just plain happy. Neither of us move as we wait for the photos to print out, her hand rubbing little circles on my arm.

“Well, I guess winging it works too,” I whisper, earning a laugh as Ellie stands up to grab the pictures. Stepping out, I see her smiling down at them and realize immediately why. We look amazing.

“It definitely works,” she murmurs, still looking down at the pictures.

That happy feeling I’m feeling is evident in both of us in that picture. I don’t want her to overthink it too much right now because I’m afraid if she tries to take on too much and take things too fast, she’ll scare herself, and that’s the last thing I want, so I just grab her hand and keep walking on.

We spent the next two hours enjoying Central Park. We rode around on the electric scooters that people always rent until she almost ran into a building. I cut her off and let her ride with me for a while. Birthdays are meant for fun, not hospital visits.

“Do you have anything planned later this evening? I don’t want to assume that you want to spend your entire birthday with me. I totally understand if you don’t. But, uh, if you did, I have reservations for dinner tonight at six. I?—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I would love to. Besides, there’s no other friend I’d rather spend my birthday with.”

It’s the twinkle in her eye that feels like a dare to me, or at least that’s how my brain takes it because, for a second, I forget all about those invisible boundaries she’s created and just say what’s on my mind.

“Ellie, if you call me your friend one more time, I promise I’ll fuck that word right out of your vocabulary.”

“What should I call you then?”

“Trevor, Trev, the guy with the nice cock, Daddy, I don’t care, just not friend.” I wink, grabbing her hand again as we start walking.

“But I thought we are friends. Just friends who fuck?”

“Yeah, that was fine until I started to enjoy you with your clothes on.” I smile, earning me a glare. “Now it’s not enough. I want more. But I’m patient. I won’t rush you.”

“Trevor—”

“Nope, we aren’t talking about this tonight. Tonight is about you. Want to go grab a drink while we wait for dinner? I know a cute bar right around the corner,” I tell her as we start walking down the street, weaving our way between the people walking in every direction.

“Sounds perfect,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

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