Chapter Twenty-Eight
We have our dessert on Blake's couch. Of course, he worked everything out so sticky rice and mango was waiting for us in his apartment. The man can pull strings I can't even fathom.
I flip around the channels. I settle on aGrey's Anatomyrerun, and he watches with a bemused fascination.
"What the hell is this?" he asks.
"It's an amazing soap opera where all the doctors and nurses are sleeping together. I used to watch it with Lizzy." Before I was too busy to commit to Netflix binge sessions.
"Why?"
"It's TV. It's fun. Don't you ever watch TV just to zone out?"
He stares at me like I'm crazy.
"No, of course you don't. You have three spare hours a week and you spend them all, what—playing chess?"
"No. I spend them fucking beautiful women."
"Really?"
He shrugs.
I laugh. Blake is making a joke. It's weird but perfect.
He scoops sticky rice with his spoon and slides it into my mouth. Sweet, creamy, hint of coconut. And, yes, damn sticky. Last time he was…
I dig my nails into my thighs so I won't react. I want to connect with him when we have our clothes on.
I lick the spoon clean. Blake raises an eyebrow as if to sayhmm, you really like that sticky rice.
I flip him off.
He smiles. My heart thuds.
Fine. I get off on his smile. I can accept that. It doesn't mean we're serious.
Who wouldn't giggle over a perfect smile?
Especially when it's as rare as Blake's is.
"And you make time for this show?" he asks.
"Not this show in particular. But it's important to relax." I eat mango with my hands. The juice runs down my fingers.
Blake takes my hand and runs his tongue over it, lapping up every bit of juice. His eyes connect with mine. "You don't relax unless I force you to."
"I went to brunch with my sister." And spent the entire time stressed over that damn check. "It was very relaxing."
He stares at me like he doesn't believe me. "Take your own advice, Kat. What do you ever do that's just for you?"
"I don't know."
"You deserve to treat yourself." He runs his finger up my neck. "You deserve everything the world has to offer."
He looks at me like he's promising me everything, but I only want this. Him looking at me like I'm the fucking world, like I'm the thing he wants to explore.
Warmth rushes around inside me, collecting in my belly. It's not the racing heat of what happened in the bathroom. It's not about touching him. Not physically.