Page 45 of Unbroken

Blakely dropped her eyes back to the sink and shut off the water, grabbing the towel on the edge of the counter to dry herhands. She tugged the mesh sleeves of her black undershirt down, but I could still see the faint outline of the snake tattoo along her forearm and wrist. The one that wrapped around and curved up her arm.

She straightened the AC/DC T-shirt she had on over the black. “I..umm…no, not really.”

My hand clenched around one of the chairs lined up at the table as my mom asked, “Not really? What does that mean?”

Blakely’s eyes flashed back up to mine, and I tried to keep my expression neutral even though I was chomping to hear her response.

“Well, I…umm…” she stuttered, looking back down at the towel in her hands. Her cheeks were slightly pink by the time she said, “Someone did ask me on a date, but I told him no.”

“Tonight? Why did you say no?” My mom nearly leaped off the stool.

Blakely smiled at her enthusiasm. She tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear and massaged the back of her neck. Her hands slid into the front pockets of her jeans, and her right hand reappeared with a tube of ChapStick between her fingers.

She applied it and returned it in one swift motion.

“We already had plans. And a first date on Valentine’s Day is a bad idea,” Blakely explained, and the words weren’t completely out of her mouth before my mom was arguing.

“You can always cancel plans with this old woman for a young, hot date. Is he hot?”

Blakely’s eyes flicked to me again, and that time, my mom noticed. My mom glanced over her shoulder like she’d forgotten I was there.

“Sure, he’s…hot,” Blakely said, holding my stare.

“Where did you meet him?”

“At Murphy’s. Devon actually met him, too.” Blakely’s lips tilted in a mischievous smile, and my mom slowly swiveled in her seat.

Her smile nearly matched Blakely’s. “Did you?” she asked.

My eyes bounced between the pair of them, and I grunted in response, immediately knowing who she was talking about. That night was not my finest moment. I’d been distracted the entire time, and it was the woman standing in the middle of my kitchen now that had monopolized my attention.

It had felt foreign yet so right to have her back in the midst of everything. Like she was filling the immense void she’d left.

Only Piper had noticed.

Well, she’d noticed that I was distracted. Thankfully, she hadn’t realized why. And she wasn’t exactly excited that I’d given Blakely a ride to the bar when I’d told her that I had to drive my mom to her friend’s house. Which was why Piper and I drove separately.

I’d apologized and explained the situation to her. I understood how it looked.

But my reaction to seeing Grant and Blakely flirting…it made guilt churn in the pit of my stomach.

“Not a fan?” my mom quipped, and I gave her an incredulous look.

“No, Devon’s his number one fan. He’s thinking of having T-shirts made and everything,” Blakely unexpectedly added.

My mom suppressed a laugh and opened her mouth, probably to ask another probing, leading question. But the timer on the oven chimed in its loud, obnoxious way, and both of their attention shifted to the lasagna.

Saved by the bell.

“Woodworking?” Blakely asked for the third time.

I nodded again and sipped my beer.

The timer had gone off, and I’d used that interruption to excuse myself. Or at least I’d tried.

My mom told me that there was more than enough for me too and that I had time to spare for a quick meal. Blakely’sreaction was a little less obvious when I’d tried to sneak out, but I still caught what I thought might be disappointment.

So, I stayed for dinner. Only it was hours past when we’d started eating, and I hadn’t tried to leave again.

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