Page 14 of Hot Route
“Oh my God, Blaze! I’m yourbiggest fan,” she says with a high-pitched giggle. “Can I get a picture with you?”
I nod politely, standing from my chair and rounding the table. She hands her phone to her friend before stepping up next to me. I try to keep some distance between us as I bring my hand behind her, hovering it, but never touching her.
“Smile!” the friend with the camera says. Just then, the woman next to me turns, wrapping her arms around me waist tightly and leaning her head into my chest. I used to love this shit, but as soon as I hear the shutter of the camera, I back awaylike she’s on fire. As she goes to pull a piece of paper from her pocket, no doubt her phone number, I see a small black blur running through the back door.
Fuck.
I don’t even give the fan a chance to hand me the paper before I thank her for coming and send her on her way. I wouldn’t call her anyway. Apparently, I’m only interested in one woman. And it looks like I have some damage control to do.
“I just need a quick break,” I tell the people standing patiently in line. “Everything in the shop is fifty percent off until I get back.” I leave the cashiers with the customers and run out the back door after Mads.
I step into the slightly chilly fall air and look around until I spot her sitting on a stack of old milk crates. She sees me immediately and quickly schools her expression. But I already saw it. I step up beside her, casually leaning against the wall next to her perch.
“You ran out of there faster than Dalton after he breaks a tackle. Have you ever considered a career in the NFL?” I joke, thankfully getting a small smile in return as she looks up.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” she begins. “The women just putting their hands all over you like that?”
I can’t stop the cocky smirk from blooming across my face. “You jealous, Baby Doll?”
“No,” she scoffs. “And stop calling me that. It feels…dirtynow. You probably call all the girls that.”
Yep. She’s definitely jealous.Why do I love it?
“No can do, Baby Doll. The nickname stays. And I promise you I’ve never used it on anyone but you.” Her eyes lock with mine and the corner of her mouth turns up slightly, but my girl fights her smile. It’s fine. If she wants me to work for it, I will.
I reach out my hands and she grabs onto them, a jolt of electricity zapping me where we’re joined. If she feels it, shedoesn’t react as I pull her up to stand. As much as I want to push her up against the cold brick of the building and taste every part of her, I know I can’t. I’ve all but abandoned Mac’s warning about sleeping with my employees because I’m starting to feel like that’s inevitable with Mads, but I’ve got to play the long game here. I’m lucky she agreed to come live with me. If I move too fast and break her professional boundaries, I’ll lose her.
“Let’s get back in there before I lose more money,” I chuckle, interlocking our fingers and pulling her back into the shop. “You can sit next to me and beat the female fans off with a stick.”
THIRTEEN
MADS
I’m excitedas I make my very first grocery run since moving in with Blaze. I’m honestly still surprised he agreed to let me do this, but I made him think it was a dealbreaker for me. It wasn’t, really. I just wanted to feel like I was earning my keep. I hate the feeling of having things given to me that I haven’t worked for.
The past week should’ve been a weird transition for me, considering it’s not my house, but I can tell he wants me to feel like it is. My first night there, he abandoned his strict diet so we could order pizza from my favorite spot. It’s the same one Sarah and I used to get delivered to her house as teens because their delivery drivers were always cute. We’d make her mom answer the door while we peeked from behind the curtains, giggling like idiots.
When I told Blaze that story, he immediately called and placed our order, refusing to let me get a glimpse at the driver when he arrived. Instead, he held the pie box out of my reach until I told him he was hotter than any delivery boy I’d ever seen. We ate a large pizza by ourselves that night and watched playoff baseball until we fell asleep on the couch like we’ve been friends our whole lives.
I have to admit that I’m already starting to feel things for him. Confusing things. I know he’s my boss and I need to keep things somewhat professional, but being around him is so easy. He makes me laugh and I just feel so comfortable when he’s around. I find myself rushing out the doors to get home at the end of my internship every day, just to see what he’s doing.
As I push the shopping cart through the produce section of the grocery store, I take another quick look at Blaze’s shopping list. I’m down to the last few items and I’m noticing a theme.
I’m also noticing a difference in penmanship. Everything I’ve crossed off so far has been typical of the meals I’ve seen him eat. Things like chicken breast, potatoes, carrots, and applesauce pouches because Blaze is really just an overgrown child. Everything tracks. But as I look at the two items in my hands, I’m thinking I’ve been bamboozled. I’m holding an eggplant and one single banana.
I decide to give Blaze a call because I smell a prank, but staying true to age-old grocery store traditions, there’s no service. I guess I’d better grab everything that’s been scribbled down, just in case.
There are two things on the list I still have to grab. I make my way over to the cucumbers, grabbing the largest one I can find because, if I’m going to embarrass myself while checking out, I’m going big.
The last item makes it all clear as to who we can blame for this whole debacle. Magnum condoms.
FuckingDalton. In the weeks that I’ve known him, we’ve spent a good amount of time together. He’s always at Blaze’s house, digging through the refrigerator or flipping through the latest releases in the theatre room. We banter back and forth like we’ve known each other forever. He even saddled me with an annoying nickname, which solidified that we will officially be friends forever. His words, not mine.
I return all my penis-shaped foods to their original locations and run to the pharmacy on the opposite side of the store. He wants to have a prank war? Game. Fucking. On.
“Excuse me,” I say to the young pharmacy assistant standing at the cash register. “Can you help me with something?”
When I pull in the driveway, I see Blaze’s truck in the open garage. I should call him out to help me carry these bags in because there are a lot of them, but my inner strong, independent woman reminds me that I don’t need a man. I can do this myself. And I can do it in one trip.
