Page 2 of Implode

Blake’s face changes as he makes sense of my words. “His cock get cold, and he needs your personal warmer?”

I shake my head over Blake’s flowery descriptions. He sure has a way with words. “Not sure. But you basically just described Ethan’s proposition to me.”

“Ew, gross.”

“Exactly.”

“Did he proposition you before or after you beat the shit out of him?”

“Before.”

“Well, let’s get back to Nic. What do you think his deal was?”

“He saw me out having fun with other men and decided he wanted to control yet another situation.”

“Well, what does Angie think of this whole situation? Nic is going to be her brother-in-law, after all. I can’t imagine she is thrilled over this development—especially this close to her wedding shindig.”

I glance away from Blake and mutter, “She doesn’t know about it.”

He snaps his fingers to bring my focus back to him. “So, you’ve been hiding that you had a relationship with Nic Hoffman?”

I shrug. “You know how much stress Angie was under last year, and now with the upcoming wedding, the last thing she needs is to worry about everyone’s feelings, including mine. Knowing her, she would probably try to rearrange parts of the wedding to keep us from interacting, just to keep the peace. I don’t want to do that to her.”

“Because you are a ray of sunshine, Claire Bear. That’s why. No man will ever deserve what you have to offer.”

I give Blake a hug and he slinks backward, making a face. “What’s wrong?”

“You are wet.”

I make a face. “I wonder how that happened,” I say with a laugh.

“We are spending the day together,” he says with certainty. “Nope. Do not even open that pretty mouth of yours. No arguments. I’ve been needing some pampering and you are going to come with.”

I shake my head at Blake. He knows just what will cheer me up. “Where’s the first stop?”

“Hair salon. Or maybe a breakfast shop? No, let’s get food delivered to the salon. Or should we hit up the gym to release some endorphins? Oh, the possibilities. I am getting so excited!”

“I can tell.” I giggle.

“But first, get dressed and put on fancy underwear.”

I look at Blake with confusion. “Why on earth for?”

“Because life is too short for wearing the boring kind.”

* * *

“I’m not sure,” I say, looking in the mirror as the male stylist—who Blake can’t stop checking out—stands behind me and mimics what my hair would look like with five inches cut off. “Seems drastic.”

“Do you want to live in the past or make an epic splash into a new outlook on life?” Blake asks, hovering to the side of the stylist. He studies me in the mirror and smiles.

Blake’s been on a pep talk kick since we left the loft. The whole car ride here was full of motivational messages and speeches. It’s like he’s preparing to be a keynote speaker at a conference about my life. I do appreciate it though.

“Fine. But let’s make it seven inches so I can at least donate it to the foundation that makes the wigs for little girls going through chemo.”

“You are going to look extra sexy and sassy with this weight off your shoulders,” the stylist says, bouncing my hair up between his fingers.

“See? Even he knows that this is a great figurative and literal way of ridding your life of the extra baggage.”

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