Page 29 of Surviving the Merge
“I know.” Because I did. Blake didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He was simply pointing out my unhealthy coping mechanisms when it came to dealing with my fears. He said exactly what I needed to hear, and he knew it.
“Do you need my help?” he asked softly, cupping my cheek.
“No. I need to do this on my own.” I turned my head and placed a kiss to the center of his palm.
“Do you want a divorce?”
“No,” I said emphatically.
“Because if you do?”
“I said no.”
He retracted his hand. “Okay.”
Getting to my feet, I reached up to place a restraining hold on his hair and brought his forehead down to mine. “Why does it feel like we’re miles apart, Blake?”
“We aren’t, Justin. We’ve both had a long day.”
“I’m not only talking about today, Blake. It’s been happening in small increments. Please tell me, what is haunting you?”
He kissed me, catching me off-guard, communicating something in that kiss I didn’t quite understand.
“Why don’t you go start us a bath? I’ll be up in a minute,” he rasped.
“All right.” I backed away hesitantly, scrutinizing him, then turned for the stairs. I stopped halfway up—knowing he couldn’t see me—to gaze at him once more.
He rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, face pointed to the ceiling. Thinking himself alone, he whispered,“Goodbye, Justin.”
8
The first night Blake took his sleep aids, things went off without a hitch. He slept so deeply that when his alarm went off the next morning, he didn’t stir. I turned it off and let him sleep in. Then slipped out to start my day.
I was about to view the fifth and final apartment that I’d circled in the paper that morning. The location not far from the condo, but far enough that I’d still feel independent of what I had with Blake and also far enough where Damon couldn’t easily track me down—right away. Another bonus: the building had a doorman. All guests needed to be announced and given the all-clear before being allowed up. That would come in handy with Damon because he’d find me, eventually.
The realtor stood waiting for me outside when I pulled up.
“Sam, right?” I asked, locking my doors with the key fob. Not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t the person in front of me. She had a head full of coiled, dark curls, mocha colored eyes that matched the complexion of her skin, and legs a mile long encased in leather. She gave off “badass.”
She nodded slowly, eyes bulging. “Sweet baby Jesus, that's some beautiful hair. Please tell me you’re gay. Because I’ve sworn off men.”
I laughed so hard it became contagious. Sam joined in; she’d effectively broken the ice.
“That was so unprofessional of me,” she said, looking around before leaning in to say, “I’m sorry. I have inappropriate-at-inopportune-times disease. I’m afraid there isn’t a cure for it.”
Quirky and vibrant, I liked her instantly.
“It’s quite all right,” I told her. “And yes, I’m gay so you’re safe.” I laughed again, and she smiled from ear to ear. She had the kind of smile that put even her back teeth on display. She smiled from her heart.
“All right, let’s go check this place out,” Sam said, rubbing her palms together.
I steeled myself and followed her in. “So, this is your first time showing the place?” My attempt at small talk as we rode the elevator.
“How’d you guess?”
“Ah, just assuming.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m kind of new on the job. I lost my last one due to my ‘disease.’ So my uncle took pity on me and hired me to work for his agency. I read up on all the details and specifications, so don’t worry, I’ll be able to answer all your questions.” Her voice turned formal. It didn’t suit her.
