Page 86 of Accidentally Amy

Blake:Fuck, yes, I’m on my way.

Izzy:YESSSSS.

Blake:I seem to recall you saying that a lot last night.

Izzy:I pretty much chanted it.

Blake:Fucking amazing night, Shay.

Izzy:Agreed, Phillips.

Blake:I’m pretty sure I saw God that last time.

Izzy:No, that was me, silly.

Blake:My mistake, Goddess.

Izzy:#newnickname

Blake:#youwish

Izzy:#drivecarefully

Blake:#iwill

Blake

“How old were you?” I asked.

“Five,” she said, toeing off her shoes in the entryway as I shut the door behind us.

“Seems like you should’ve been old enough to know better,” I said, wondering when I’d become the kind of guy who was obsessed with childhood stories. For some reason, with Iz, I wanted to hear every single anecdote that led to her becoming the person she was.

It reminded me of that Taylor Swift lyricYou told me ’bout your past, thinking your future was me.

“Maybe Scotty was a little shit—did you ever think of that?” she asked, her nose crinkled as she pretended to be pissed. “Did anyone?”

I watched her pull the ponytail out of her hair and then use her fingers to shake it out. Those little mannerisms were somehowsomethingto me all of a sudden. I wanted to learn everysingle one. I crossed my arms and said, “But didn’t you say he cried every time he saw you coming?”

“Are you going to talk about Scotty the Shit all day, who probably deserved my tackling backbites, or are you going to show me how to work your fancy showerhead?”

I grabbed her hand, linked my fingers through hers, and pulled her toward the master bathroom.

The run had been entertaining, with Izzy shit talking the entire time about how fast she was while simultaneously telling me to slow down. After that, we grabbed breakfast while walking around the farmers’ market (she was too hungry to wait until we got home). I’d wolfed down a breakfast sandwich sold to me by a certified beekeeper who also taught yoga, and Izzy wolfed down a glazed donut she’d found at the gas station across the street.

There had been a brief moment of mortification when the flower vendor told Izzy the “adorable” story of how I’d needed to find the perfect flowers yesterday and was a bit of a psycho about it, but when Iz’s lips turned up into a huge grin and she sarcastically batted her eyelashes at me and put her hands over her heart, I’d stopped caring.

“You know,” she said as I flipped on the bathroom light, “it’d probably be best for the planet if we just showered at the same time.”

“I do love the planet,” I said, opening the glass door and turning on the water.

“I knew it,” she said, going straight to the counter to brush her teeth with the extra travel brush I’d given her last night.

“But I think you just want to see me naked.” I joined her at the vanity, grabbing my toothbrush.

She shook her head and said through a mouthful of toothpaste, “That’s a mighty big ego you have, sir.”

“I think you want to see my mighty big—”

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