Page 71 of When Fate Breaks
“Blake,” I cut him off, causing his brows to raise. “Shut up,” I finish, smiling at him sweetly.
He lets out an impressed scoff. “Yes ma’am.”
“Put me in, Coach. Where do you want me?”
Blake looks me up and down, shaking his head and chuckling in defeat. “Well, I was going to start hanging those pots–”
“Got it!” I say, walking over to the first pot closest to me on the ground. They are all varying in shapes and sizes and I’m not sure what Blake’s plans are for them. “Where do you want this one?” I ask, nodding towards the pot in question as I squat down. “What’s your vision?”
“The back left corner. But I was going to say–” I attempt to lift the pot, instantly grunting loudly and feeling like I’ve thrown out my back, not at all anticipating how heavy it was going to be. “I was going to say those are probably too heavy for you to lift,” Blake says, finishing the thought I cut off with my sounds of struggle.
“Yeah. Sorry, Coach,” I sigh. “I think I’m gonna have to let you down on this one.”
“No worries. I can get them,” he says. I suddenly register that he was just carrying multiple of these at a time while holding a conversation with me and without breaking a sweat.Jerk.“You could maybe help me carry in a few more finished tables though?” he suggests.
“Sure thing!” I agree, hopping up and heading straight out the door towards where the finished tables are sitting under the overhang of the house in the side yard. I never make it there, however.
I barely get two steps out of the greenhouse, turning my head over my shoulder to Blake. “Is there a certain one we should get first–Whoa!”
My foot hits a slick puddle just right, causing me to slip and immediately throwing both my feet out from under me. I feel the wet, cold smack of mud against my backside the instant I come in contact with the ground.
“Oh my God!” Blake shouts, bursting out laughter. I peel my eyes open when I can sense the shadow of his silhouette above me, blocking the sun. “Are you okay?” he asks. I just groan in response, the wind still knocked out of me. I can tell Blake is genuinely worried if I’m hurt but also physically can’t stop laughing. I can’t say I blame him, to be honest.
“Oh, hilarious!” I grumble, suddenly becoming aware of the mud that made its way to the tops of my shoulders and front of my neck when I fell.
“Here,” Blake says, offering me his hand. I try to reach for it, but he’s laughing so hard that his body is shaking. I have no idea what comes over me, but I grapple for a handful of the mud squished against my neck, throwing it straight at Blake’s face. I hit my target spot on, smacking him straight in the cheek.
I bring my hands up to cover my mouth and Blake freezes, his laughter stopping instantly. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Blake. I–”
I break off when Blake suddenly swoops down, wiping mud from his cheek and smearing it across my own. I scoff loudly as our faces mirror each other with equal shock, both of our eyes wide and jaws unhinged.
I start to shuffle to get up, but continue to slip and slide against the mud. Blake extends his hand once more and I accept it this time, right as I kick up another chunk of mud that lands on the top of my thigh with a plop. Blake starts laughing again and I give his arm a hard yank. Instead of him pulling me up, I just end up pulling him down. His feet start to skid and I flail beneath him as he attempts to regain his footing. We both break into laughter at the absurdity of our situation. That act ends up distracting Blake and he slips, flinging his arms in a final effort to stop himself before he ultimately falls right on top of me.
I gasp, dropping my head back and squishing my back as far into the muddy grass as it’ll go before Blake catches himself on his elbows, his face stopping just inches above my own, the rest of his body practically flush with mine.
We are both breathing hard, my chest meeting his with each inhale. Blake’s eyes search mine as he slowly pushes himself up, giving us just enough distance so that I can somewhat think again.
I’m thinking I need to move. I’m thinking Blake needs to move. I’m thinking this entire situation is bad. I’m thinking this situation is also entirely too familiar.
I’m also thinking that I like it.
I’m thinking that it’s bad that I think I like it.
I realize I’ve zoned out into my own mind when I see Blake shaking his head. I notice his furrowed brow and assume he’s angry at first, but then, when I meet his eyes, a smile spreads out on his face.
“What?” I question, my own brows pulling together.
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
Something about his tone of voice makes me stiffen. He says it as if he’s just had an epiphany. As if he’s just desperately found the answer to a question he’s long been searching for. Even more, it sounds like the answer has pleasantly surprised him. Like he’d just about given up hope of it ever being true.
I’m not sure what to make of any of it, and I’m not sure my brain has the capability to unpack everything else lying beneath the very surface of that statement at this moment. I suddenly feel a heavy (metaphorical) weight settle on my chest. I feel like I’m suffocating and wiggle out from under Blake, desperate for some space. He complies immediately, removing the arm caging me in and rolling to sit on his bottom. I do the same, taking two very obvious scoots to my left and instantly feeling my lungs start to cooperate the moment I do so.
We stare at each other for several moments, both of us covered in half soaked clothes and caked in mud, sitting in the grass in broad daylight like a couple of kids. Though I desperately try to ignore it, my brain won’t rest, simply replaying Blake’s last words over and over. I feel my bottom lip becoming raw from the rate I’m gnawing on it, but I can’t seem to stop that either.
“Evangeline.”
I allow my eyes to refocus, Blake coming into view, the smile on his face no longer anywhere to be found. “Yeah?”
