Page 52 of Crave Me

Me:

I’m actually here with someone

She responds right away.

Mom:

Blaire?

Me:

How’d you know?

Mom:

Beautiful girl. I had my suspicions that something was going on.

Me:

I could never fool you. I’m really into her but she’s got these walls up, she’ll only let me in so far

I laugh at that. Blaire’s got no qualms with letting me in deep in every other way, but emotionally? She’s only giving me so much.

Mom:

Just takes time. You really like her?

Me:

Yeah. I think I do.

Mom:

Well be sure and then just take it at her pace

Me:

Thanks Mom. You two doing okay? Kins driving you all nuts yet?

Mom:

We’re good, no complaints. You know we love winter.

Mom:

I’ll check in soon. Love you

Closing out of the chat, I bring up the local news and my heart stops.

The roads are clear.

Our little bubble is about to burst. I contemplate keeping it from her, playing stupid just to prolong our time together. I turnmy phone on silent and toss it down on the bar top just as Blaire walks into the room. Her hair is wet and falls around her face in a wavy mess. I hate that I didn’t have anything to make her more comfortable here, even if she hasn’t complained.

Coffees poured, I hand a mug to Blaire and settle in on the leather couch next to her, in front of the fireplace. I take my first sip, relishing the slow, smooth taste as the caffeine goes down, needing the boost to help me through this conversation. The storm has trapped us here together for a while, but that’s not to say she won’t spook and lock herself in the guest bedroom or bolt the moment she learns the roads are cleared and she can go home.

I focus my attention on Blaire sitting next to me, looking nothing like she did when we were at Kinsey’s birthday party a few days ago. She’s wearing nothing but one of my large T-shirts, and I know she’s completely naked underneath. Her hair is unbrushed, and her face has been bare of makeup since our first night here. It’s such a stark contrast to when we arrived here together. I hated having her in my space, and now the thought of her leaving creates a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The sight of her tear-stricken face, blotchy cheeks, red-rimmed, puffy eyes, and the sound of her screams has me wanting nothing more than to pull her hard into my chest to wrap her in comfort.

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