Page 45 of Between Us

Pausing as she dips a tender into sauce, she looks up at me through her lashes and I’m momentarily struck by her lightening eyes, not for the first time. There are times, like now, when Blake looks at me like I could be exactly what she’s been in need of her whole life. I know because sometimes I catch myself feeling the same about her.

“Yeah?” It’s so quiet, I don’t know if I would’ve caught it without reading her lips.

“It’s good to be accountable, but noteverythingin life is your fault nor responsibility. So, maybe the real question isn’t ‘do you regret it?’ but do you have anything to regret in that situation?”

She looks at me with scrunched brows and a cute tilt to her head, and as the seconds tick by, I can see as she processes my words. Her shoulders straighten, eyes staring off in thought.

“I’ve never thought about it likethat,” she whispers. Without looking up from the tray of food, she admits, “I guess I just always assume I did something wrong…”

There’s a voice in the back of my mind telling me that this is more than just her estranged childhood friends, but I can’t fit the puzzle pieces together fully. “No one’s perfect, Storm Cloud, but you’ve got to be nicer to yourself.”

With a wry smile, she shrugs. “I’ll try.”

Biting my tongue—knowing better than to push this too far—I silently make a promise to myself to not be another person in Blake’s life that makes her feel as if she’s somehow forgettable, or worse, unwanted.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Adrian

Blakehopsoutofthe car as I pull the gas pump out. I let my eyes take in her black leggings and ’90s crewneck for the millionth time tonight. “Where’d you get that?” I finally ask. It’s clear that it’s a well-loved, but taken care of, piece of clothing. It’s not something you’d get at Forever 21.

Dropping her eyes down for half a second, she leans into the passenger seat. Probably looking for something I assume, but at this angle, her cute bubble butt is jutting out. And yeah, I let myself look at that for the millionth time tonight too.

“My brother left it when he went to college, so I kept it.”

“I like it. I’m going to borrow it sometime,” I tease.

She shrugs and closes the car door. “Do I get to borrow yours?” She tips her chin toward mySpace Jamhoodie. The thought of her small frame drowning in my anything lights my entire body on fire.

What I want to say is,you could have everything I own.

What I actually say is, “Do you even like the movie?”

She scoffs, and in a high-pitched voice that I assume is supposed to be Bugs Bunny, she quotes, “Why Michael, I thought you’d never ask!” She blushes at her own goofiness, and fuck, it’s cute. Everything about Blake teeters on the line between adorable and sexy as hell. And yet she somehow doesn’t realize the allure she has. At least on me.

She holds up her wallet like it’s a trophy. Must’ve been what she was looking for. “Want anything?”

“Just a water.” She nods and gives me a quick ‘cool,’ before turning on her toes and walking inside. I wish I could just watch her the entire time, forever, always. But to avoid looking like a total creep, I turn back to the gas pump.

When I’m climbing into the driver seat, I look to find Blake standing in one of the aisles except she’s not alone. There’s a group of about five girls, all around her age. Everyone looks happy and giggly except for Blake. I open my door right as her eyes meet mine.

The reminder I’m here doesn’t seem to bring her any sort of comfort. Instead, she just shakes her head lightly before dropping her gaze and backing down the aisle. I watch as she drops the water bottles on a random shelf, falling further into herself with each step.

Every instinct in me is screaming to get out. To go to her. To grab her, hold her, protect her. But she’s speed-walking to the passenger seat and locks the door before it even closes.

“Sorry about the waters,” she mumbles. No other explanation.

“It’s okay.” I slowly raise my hand, hesitating for only a second before wrapping it gently around the nape of her neck. She finally looks at me, and even though she’s trying to hide them, I can see the tears in her eyes. “Do you want to go home?”

She nods, avoiding eye contact again. I put the car in drive before immediately placing my hand back on her body. I grab her hand, interlacing our fingers and drop them in her lap. She doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride, clutching my hand with both of hers and not fidgeting even a little the entire way. And in my core, I know to not push about whatever happened inside with those five girls. I also know that I can’t leave her when she’s this upset either.

It’sanalmostsilentride home. She’s holding on to my hand the entire time, as if it’s the only thing grounding her to this moment with me. And for now, that’s enough. At least until we get to her house.

Rolling to a stop next to the curb, I try not to let my avalanching concern overwhelm her more than she already is.

She doesn’t wait for me before opening her door and practically crawls out of my car. Glancing over her shoulder, she offers me a small smile that quickly morphs into unadulterated anger at the sight of me stepping out of the vehicle.

Good.

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