Page 46 of The Making of Mila and Blake
“Hi, Blake,” LeAnne says softly. Her gentle gaze reassures him that she is definitely not here to reprimand him. At one point, the thought of having her teenage son perform a live gig at a bar in downtown Nashville would have sent her into meltdown. It wasn’t the kind of plan she envisioned for him, but seeing her worst fear play out in front of her has made her realize it’s not thatbad.
“Everett?” Blake says, his shock doubled, and he fires me a questioning glance.
“Don’t look at me,” I say, holding up my hands. “For once, I had nothing to do with this. This is all on them.”
Dad claps a hand over Blake’s shoulder. “You were great up there. You’ve got some real talent, and I’m just glad I got a chance to see your show through to the end this time. This hat makes me fly under the radar. Those fans of mine know I’m a Chargers guy through and through.” Dad grins as he taps the embroidered Tennessee Titans badge on his cap, then tilts his head, awaiting Blake’s acceptance of what is essentially his version of a peace treaty. One hand still on Blake’s shoulder, he offers out the other, and Blake laughs before shaking his hand.Okay, good.Blake doesn’t hate him.
His mom, on the other hand. . .
“Why are you here?” he asks, wiping the easy smile from his face as he shifts his attention back to her. His expression is wary, dubious. My chest pangs with a certain sadness when I realize Blake’s first instinct is to be suspicious of any support from his own mom.
“Everett told me you were playing tonight,” LeAnne explains, and I will never, ever get used to the pitch of her voice when she’s uncomfortable, because the Mayor Avery I know doesn’tgetnervous and uneasy. Only now I realize she does. “He persuaded me to come along. I didn’t think it was a good idea, hence all this.” She gestures to her outfit. “But seeing you up there. . .”
It is clear LeAnne can’t bring herself to say the words out loud, to admit that she has been wrong all this time, so Blake steps forward to save her from the mental struggle. He puts an arm around her shoulder, hugging her briefly.
“Thanks, Mom,” he says. “It means a lot that you came.”
LeAnne relaxes. She places a hand on Blake’s chest and gives him a tight smile. Neither of them is a fool. There is still a hell of a long road ahead before LeAnne will ever entertain the idea of Blake ditching the marketing half of his college degree in favor ofonlymusic, but maybe now that she realizes just how talented he is, she might just let him sing around the house again.
They quickly separate from one another as such a foreign display of affection becomes too unsettling for both of them. Blake rubs at the back of his neck, sweat trickling over his skin, and doesn’t quite meet his mom’s gaze.
“So, Mila and I better get out of here before Stu on the door personally escorts us out like that,” Blake says, pointing through the crowd to the towering bouncer scouring the dance floor, ushering Savannah and Tori toward the door, along with some of Blake’s old high school friends who have shown their support tonight too. “I need some ice cream for my throat,” he says with a breathy laugh as he locks his dark eyes on mine. “Mila?”
“Here,” Dad says. He pulls out his wallet, slips out a couple bills, and passes me the cash. “It’s on me, guys. Just don’t bring her home too late, Blake. You’ve been warned.”
“Yes, sir,” Blake says with a clipped nod.
“We’ll sneak out now,” LeAnne says, tucking her chin into her scarf. “You two have fun.”
Heads lowered, shoulders drawn tight, Dad and LeAnne weave swiftly through Honky Tonk Central and straight out the doors, their presence here tonight having successfully gone unnoticed. I let a breath of relief escape. Nothing has ruined Blake’s gig tonight, not even Jason showing up.
“So. . .” Blake says, stepping directly in front of me. He runs his hands down my arms and finds mine. His tone sensual, he murmurs, “It’s after the gig, and I found you. What exactly do you plan to do with me, Miss Mila?”
I glance hotly up at him from beneath my thick lashes. “You’ll see,” I whisper, and he groans in anticipation as I lead the way out of here.
18
The colors of the sky have faded to a dusky blue with streaks of orange and pink, punctuated by the flashing neon signs decorating Broadway. The energy inside Honky Tonk Central continues in the open air, but that’s Nashville for you. Cabs whisk down the street, masses of tourists wander down the sidewalks in awe as they bask in the ambience, and it’s not even late yet. On weekends, downtown is so chaotic you can barely hear yourself think. It’s a tourist trap, sure, but so is LA. And I know which one I prefer.
We stop by his truck to drop off his guitar, and in my group chat with Savannah and Tori, I text to let them know I’ll get a ride back to town with Blake. They are not the least bit surprised. They probably didn’t count on me going home with them anyway. I’m thatpredictable.
“And now,” Blake says, “ice cream.”
His hand in mine, we start our leisurely stroll along Broadway toward the river.
“When’s your next show?” I ask, peeking at Blake from the corner of my eye. It’s hard to look at anything but him tonight, but for the sake of keeping my intentions subtle, I try my best to pay attention to our surroundings every once in a while.
“It’s not confirmed yet, but I’m working something out with another place back there. Robert’s,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. There are, like, a thousand other live venues that neighbor Honky Tonk Central. “Maybe on the fourteenth.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.”
“You’ll be gone by then,” Blake says with a frown. It’s not a question, because my reaction makes it clear that Iwillbe gone by the fourteenth.
“We go home on Monday. I have to get back for orientation,” I remind him, but my chest hurts as déjà vu strikes me. Blake and I don’t handle the topic of my upcoming departures all that well, and this time our situation is even morecomplicated than it was two years ago. Back then, at least we knew where we stood with one another. We were officially together, but now? I don’t even know what we are.
Blake tugs on my hand and traps me between the nearest wall and him before leaning in close. “Are yousureyou don’t want to reconsider Belmont?”
“Even if I wanted to, it’s too late,” I say, my voice growing breathy in response to the proximity of his lips to mine. This sudden desperation to have him is driving me wild. “Deadline day was forever ago, and I picked San Diego.”
