Page 95 of Consume Me

“Blake.”

When we’re in the kitchen, Blake and I move in sync as I prepare an omelet and a cheese and salami charcuterie board. He helps by setting the table and cutting the bread. There’s a comfortable silence wrapping us in a bubble as if we’re the only people on the planet.

Blake’s arm brushes against mine when he takes a plate, and he kisses the corner of my mouth.

“My dad is next door.”

“Must have slipped my mind,” he says with a boyish grin that melts me.

Just thrust your hand into my chest and pull out my heart—it’s already yours.

My father clears his throat, and I jump, putting some space between us. A muscle tics in Blake’s jaw as we carry the plates to the table.

“So, Blake, what are your plans?”

“In general or regarding your daughter?”

I almost choke on the bread and pinch his thigh under the table. I don’t know what he’s doing, but Blake holds my father’s gaze.

Dad shakes his head slightly and says, “Both.”

“I have little choice, considering my birthright, do I?”

“So you’ll lead the pharmaceutical company?”

“Yes.”

“How similar would you say you are to your father?”

Blake grips the fork. It’s a miracle it doesn’t break. “There are no similarities, sir.”

“Good.”

“And regarding your daughter, you’ll see,” he says, winking at me.

Suddenly, it’s so hot that it takes everything in me to suppress the need to fan myself. I bite my tongue so hard to avoid telling him I’d like to know as well.

While we eat in silence, I ponder Blake’s words and steal glances at him. He’s all refined muscles and sharp edges, but he carries a certain elegance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he chews—even that simple gesture is sexy. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth; he knows I am watching him.

I return to my breakfast, but I can barely eat with all the butterflies swarming in my belly. It all feels surreal, him being here with me, us eating breakfast with my father.

I don’t know what to make of this anymore, but my heart can’t handle the distance, the way we clash, the cold and warm treatment—the agonizing back-and-forth.

We need to talk, but first, we have that emergency meeting with Cassandra.

Once we finish breakfast, we say our goodbyes to my father. I give him my keys and ask him to make sure my car is returned to campus. Walking outside, Blake opens the door to the passenger side of his car, and the gesture makes me even more of an emotional and confused mess than I already am.

When I get in, I am instantly hit by his heady scent mixed with leather. That’s some potent aphrodisiac. Clenching my legs, I bite my lip, trying to get a grip.

I should focus more on the threat to my life, but Blake’s presence shoves that to the side. All my life, it appears I have been in hiding. Hiding my true identity, setting aside what I want to get my family to where they are now.

Blake has been the one selfish thing I wanted for myself. I’ve wanted him with every fiber of my being, fueled by romantic fantasy. Why? I don’t know, but something realigned inside me once our eyes met. My heart was like,There you are—I have been waiting for you.I read about those things happening, butI never believed in love at first sight. It still feels far-fetched to have a connection to a virtual stranger. Yet, he never felt like one.

That’s why his leaving left a crater in my chest––a gaping and pulsing wound that hasn’t healed. I should protect my heart better, but how can I when it’s already his?

“You’re quiet,” Blake says, pulling me out of my thoughts. With his brows drawn together and his sharp jaw set in a hard line, it’s obvious he doesn’t like that.

“Was deep in thought… Thought I’d give you a break from my constant blabber,” I say to lighten the mood.

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