Page 71 of Between Us

I’ve tagged along with them to see a new scary movie in theaters one night and to dinner at The Loop twice. I feel bad to intrude, but I also can’t bring myself to say no to Blake. I don’t want to reject her from something that’s within my power to give her—my time.

It helps that both Margo and Meera seem okay with having me around. If anything, I get the feeling they’re trying to incorporate Blake’s life into theirs, now that they’re across the country. And even if we haven’t had any ofthosetalks—the ones about what this is and where it’s going—it brings me an immense amount of satisfaction to feel like I have the approval of her two best friends.

That’s a win. Especially because I know her older brother’s opinion of me will be just as important, and I haven’t met him yet. I already know her parents like me, at least as an employee, and a friend to their daughter. But I haven’t been hiding myintentions, as my own father put them.

Also yes, of course I told my parents about Blake. We’re just as close as she is with her own mom and dad. Plus, when I told my mom that my boss’s daughter is the same girl that ran into me at the grocery store, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest. She’s real big on fate and that shit. And according to her, she could ‘see the way I was looking at her as she walked away.’

I’m not trying to scare Blake away by asking her to meet my parents already—despite spending a lot of time with hers—but I know they’re going to love Blake. They already like her from what I’ve told them.

When I get to her parents’ house, Blake opens the door before I have the chance to knock. Taking them in, I’m surprised andimpressedwith the three girls’ costumes.

Together, they made a modern, misfit version of the Sanderson Sisters. Margo is Sarah with her natural blonde hair styled in tight, ringlet curls. Meera is Winifred, opting for a burgundy red wig that she somehow styled into a bird’s nest looking bun on the top of her head.

Blake is looking at me with part giddiness, part embarrassment. Probably because she let her friends put her long, silky black hair up in a twisted style that’s almost identical to Mary Sanderson’s.

And maybe she feels a little uncomfortable or silly, butfuck it, it’s Halloween. I’d take this version of her over the closed off, aloof one she uses to protect herself.

“Hey, girls,” I greet them with a smile and lean down to kiss Blake on the cheek. Careful not to poke my eye out. “You guys look great.”

Gesturing toward the outfits, I mean it. Margo’s designs somehow made the costumes feel authentic to the original movie, while giving them a modern twist with short, steam-punk inspired skirts and corsets over linen tops.

Mentally, I am on my hands and knees thanking Margo for putting Blake in that. Even with the extra shirt underneath, there’s no hiding Blake’s full chest when she’s tied into the corset.

“Thanks,” Blake smiles at me, some of her embarrassment fading away. After her friends quickly greet me, they run back to Blake’s room to get their bags and whatever else they need. But Blake just stands in the foyer of her parents’ house, giving me a long, almost affectionate look. “Are you supposed to be Bugs Bunny inSpace Jam?”

I look down at my costume, even though I know that’s exactly what I’m supposed to be. She does too—I think the question is more out of surprise.

“Of course,” I answer with a cheeky grin. While I don’t typically get into Halloween at the same level Blake seems to, I’m not so full of myself that I can’t put on a costume and go to an event for one night.

This is the first time since I was a kid that I bought a costume rather than just throwing together a pirate or something at the last minute. But when I went to Wal-Mart with my mom last weekend, there was one more Bugs Bunny jersey costume just hanging there,in my size. I knew it would make Blake smile, since we’ve both talked about our childhood love of the movie multiple times.

Sometimes my mom’s fate bullshit doesn’t feel so phony, if I’m honest.

“You’re cute,” she teases, leaning toward me on her toes.

Taking a step forward, I take advantage of what will probably be one of the few moments we have alone tonight. “And you,” I slowly tell her, wrapping my arm around her waist, “you are so fuckingpretty.”

“Usually, I’d actually believe you, it’s just hard when I have hair out of Whoville.” There’s a wide smile on her face that makes me think she does believe me, despite the costume.As she should.

“Doesn’t matter what you wear. Still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

With that, I drop my lips to hers and taste the mouth I haven’t stopped thinking about. Not wanting to get too lost in our stolen moment—or caught by her mom—I pull away much faster than I would’ve liked. The soft sigh and pout to her bottom lip is all I need to know that it was too quick for her liking as well.

She never hides from my affection and even opens the door for it more than I would’ve initially expected. But with each little caress, and swipe of her skin, I realize that it should’ve been obvious from the start.

It took some time to prove to Blake that I cared about her—whether it was little things like the lollipop or helping her with her tires. Words hadn’t gotten me anywhere with her at first. I’m positive she likes the compliments in the same way most people enjoy being told they are attractive, or smart. But I would bet that just about anything elsemeansmore to Blake than any words I can say.

And on the flip side, it’s not always easy for Blake to express herself, or her emotions, verbally. There are the rare moments of vulnerability when we’re completely alone, where she’ll find the courage that’s hidden under years of bullying and insecurities.

So, the soft kisses she easily offers in certain settings, and the way her hand always finds its way to my body when we’re next to each other, is enough for now.

I’m a pretty patient man, so I can give Blake the time to work through her feelings about me. At some point, I’ll need to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with her, because even if she isn’t seeing anyone else, this isn’t a short-lived fling to me.

The more time I spend with Blake, the more I start to think about how I want her next to me every second of every day. And the friendly attraction I felt toward her has grown into so much more over the last two months. Affection, companionship, possessiveness,need.

I realize I was lost in my thoughts, mindlessly watching her as she moves around the room—gathering her keys and small purse. The soft shuffle of Margo and Meera coming down the hallway is what ultimately pulls me out of my trance.

Blake turns around, and suddenly, I have three pairs of eyes looking at me with an expectant expression.

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