Page 24 of When Fate Breaks
“Remy, this is Blake,” I say, motioning toward Blake. “My old, uh, friend.” I feel Blake’s gaze flick in the direction of my face, but I ignore it. “Blake, this is Remy. My–”
“Fiancé. Right,” Blake interjects. “Hey, man,” he says, stretching out a hand towards Remy. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Remy looks at Blake’s hand, but doesn’t shake it right away, looking him over once more. I realize that, even though Blake is only a couple of inches taller than Remy, he easily has thirty pounds on him. Remy isn’t little by any means, but Blake is just…Blake. That being said, Remy definitely isn’t used to being the smallest guy in the room, and it clearly shows. I clear my throat, putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him. That seems to break Remy out of whatever weird macho trance he’s in, his hand shooting out to accept Blake’s handshake.
“Yeah. Hey, man. Nice to meet you as well.”
I pull my lower lip into my mouth, stifling my smile. “Beautiful,” I say. “Now, pizza?”
“Sure,” Remy and Blake both reply at the same time, finally dropping their entirely too long handshake.
Blake and I make our way over to the kitchen island, reclaiming the same spots we were just sitting in across from each other, while Remy begins to make himself a plate of pizza. “I gotta thank you for coming out, Blake,” he says over his shoulder. “I know Annie really appreciates it.”
“Wereally appreciate it,” I insist, covering my mouth with my hand as I talk through a mouthful of pizza.
“Yes, we do,” Remy says, plopping his plate onto the island, but remaining standing behind me. “Really,” he says, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Once my little Apple Jacks gets an idea in her head, there’s no getting it out.”
Though I had been avoiding making eye contact with Blake, I can’t do it any longer, my gaze shifting to his. The expression on his face can only be described as a mixture of surprise and nausea, his lips scrunched together and brows raised. He stares back at me for a moment before raising his eyes to Remy behind me.
“It’s not a problem,” Blake says flatly. “I’m happy to help.”
Remy squeezes my shoulders once before releasing them, walking over to the fridge. He reaches inside and pulls out a bottle of beer. He grabs two more in his other hand, raising them up in offer to us.
“Yes, please,” I say. Remy twists off the cap, handing the bottle to me. He moves to twist off the second cap, but Blake stops him.
“I’m alright, thanks.”
I feel my brows pull together as I take a long drink from my beer.Huh.
Remy returns the beer meant for Blake to the fridge, coming to stand behind me again. He takes a drink from his bottle before placing his hands on the sides of my shoulders again, kneading them as he talks. It’s not uncommon for Remy to touch me like this, but I can’t lie that it feels oddly intimate with him doing it in front of an audience. Especially when that audience is Blake, who is watching his every move with the most unreadable look in his eyes.
“So, Blake,” Remy says. “Landscaping?”
“Yep,” Blake confirms, his gaze only flicking to Remy for half a second before returning to where his hands are on my body.
Remy chuckles, removing his left hand from me temporarily to take another drink. “You like working with dirt? And worms?”
Both hands are back, sliding down the sides of my arms now. They stop just where the short sleeves of my blouse ends, the fingers of his empty right hand tracing lazy circles on my inner bicep. Blake’s eyes seem to darken as Remy grazes over a very particular patch of skin, his jaw ticking. Realization hits me and I straighten my spine, feeling a drop of sweat trickle down my back.
Blake notices my movement, his head tilting. He finally tears his gaze from me, lowering the temperature in the room by ten degrees, and looks back at Remy. “Yeah, well, I’ve found that worms are better than most people,” he deadpans, responding to Remy’s question.
“Ha,” Remy snorts, not humorously. “Well, Blake,” he says, raising his beer, “you seem to be a man’s man through and through. Your dad must be proud.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry, slowly raising my eyes to look at Blake.
He remains still for several seconds before one corner of his mouth finally pulls up. “Yeah. Well, I’ll ask him and get back to you on that.”
The shrill sound of a phone ringing splits through the air, breaking the tension. Remy releases me and I take a heavy breath, wringing my hands together under the counter. Remy steps to the side, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.
“And what do you do?” Blake asks him.
“Business,” he replies, looking down at his phone screen. “And investments.”
“That’s vague.”
Remy looks up at Blake, his jaw shifting to the side. “Is it vague or is it just too big for you to wrap your brain around?” he asks, smiling. “Now, excuse me.” Remy answers the call as he turns his back on us and walks out the front door to continue his conversation.
“Charming dude,” Blake says a few seconds after the door closes.
