Page 7 of Surviving the Merge
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Ihanded my keys to the valet and entered the restaurant, fretting over the raindrops soaking into my sleeve. Arriving only fifteen minutes late but knowing Blake wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. It was a big night for his tech company—Blake Daniels Industries. They’d signed another major investor.
I instantly picked Blake out amongst the sea of people in the dimly lit space. There weren’t many as tall as him. Making my way across the room, I took in the sight of him. He wore an all black, three-piece suit and tie, tailored to fit his body like a glove, and his five-o-clock shadow gave him an edge. I wanted to strip him down.
Deep in conversation with someone, he stopped speaking abruptly, scanning the room. He sensed me. His eyes lit up when he noticed me heading in his direction, and he excused himself in order to meet me halfway.
“You’re late,” he grumbled, trying to fight back a smile. As if the sight of me made up for any wrongdoing on my part.
“Not by much.” I glanced at my watch. “Rehearsals went a little longer than expected.”
“You look amazing.” He gave me a chaste kiss. “Gray brings out your eyes. It’s my favorite color on you.”
“I know.” I ran the pad of my thumb across his full lower lip. That earned me a shy smile. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing, yet. Everyone’s been mingling and enjoying the free food and drinks. I’ll give a speech closer to the end of the night. Come, I have someone I want you to meet.”
I internally groaned. I hated small talk. Partly because I wasn’t any good at it and mostly because I’d never been interested in other people outside of Damon and Blake. Reading my mind, Blake said, “I promise to get you out of here early.”
My guilt burned hot. “It’s your night. Don’t worry about me.” My words would be fruitless. Worrying about me was what Blake did best.
After a few hours of introductions and mostly pleasant conversations, Blake gave his speech, and then we said our goodbyes, leaving everyone to enjoy the rest of their night after Blake announced he’d extended the open bar for several more hours. That garnered cheers of approval throughout the room.
We stepped outside, and someone called out, “Ditching your own party, Mr. Daniels?”
“Josh,” Blake said, smiling indulgently at the company's top engineer. “Age is catching up to me. I can’t party like I used to.”
Smirking at his playful lie, I said hello to Josh, then left them to chat while I walked the few feet over to the valet podium. It took only a minute to get to the front of the line and hand the ticket over.
I wasn’t surprised when I heard Josh slur, “Damn, that husband of yours is...sexy as hell. And I bet he’s bendy.”
Josh was a hopeless flirt. A harmless one too.
However, my inner alarm bells went off when Blake responded in a voice laced with menace, “If you ever think to discuss my husband to me in that way again, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
Josh jerked back, eyes wide.
“Is everything okay here?” I asked, tentatively, coming to a stop beside Blake. Eyeing him. His face paled and contorted in panic before smoothing out. He turned without a word, heading for our car, which was now being pulled in front of the restaurant.
Blake kept a pensive look out of the passenger window the whole drive home. My attention split between the road, his clenched fists, and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. I wondered what I’d be met with once we got to the condo.
I pulled into our designated parking spot in the garage, and we both sat there quietly, staring ahead at the rows of parked vehicles. My insides were at war. Swords inflicted sharp stabbing pains to my lower intestines. An ignited fire made its way up the center of my chest. The silence added fuel to the flames.What’s happening?
“Blake—”
The car shook as he got out and slammed the door.
I listened to his footsteps retreat before exiting the driver’s side and briskly catching up, entering the elevator before the doors closed. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, and I let him be, trying to remember a time when I’d ever seen him undone.
Never.
This isn’t him...
We got off on our floor and entered the condo. I kept my distance, observing him, waiting for his cues. He yanked at his tie while moving through the living room toward the stairs.
Give him his space or push him to talk?I asked myself. After a minute of weighing the pros and cons of both options, I decided on a happy medium. I’d stay close, but I wouldn't force him to talk, if he wasn’t ready.I raised my gaze to the ceiling when I heard him stomping around in our bedroom. I exhaled and went after him, climbing the stairs at a leisurely pace.
“Wanna talk about what happened?” I asked, leaning against the bedroom door frame, thumbs slotted through my front belt loops, trying to look as relaxed and casual as possible, not wanting to betray my internal turmoil.
