Page 100 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“Blake,” I murmur against the crown of her head. A few wisps of hair stir from my breath. But I don’t say anything else. I can’t.

She leans against me, letting her muscles melt ever so slightly into my warmth as I crowd her against the door. I drag my hand lower and squeeze her waist. It’s painful to be this close to her without giving in and kissing her the way I want. Holding her the way I want. Fucking driving into her the way I want.

“I want you, Blake. I care about you––”

“Then prove it,” she interrupts. “And I mean in a way that’s bigger than asking me out under the guise of making it up to my older brother, or coming up with a stupid bet so you can have the excuse to kiss me again.” She leans her forehead against the door and lets out a shuddered breath. Like I’ve finally pushed her past the edge.

“Prove it in a way that’s real, Theo,” she challenges. Her voice is stronger. More determined. She isn’t begging me. She’s goading me. Daring me. “A way that makes me different than all the other girls I know you’ve been with. A way that puts me first and gives me a reason to do the same for you.”

“And if I do?”

She shrugs one shoulder but doesn’t answer me.

And she won’t. I know her better than that.

She’s stubborn.

And she’s done talking about this. For now. Her skin is warm against my lips as I lean down and press a kiss to her bare shoulder, unable to help myself. She tastes like sunshine and spice. My fingers dig into her waist again, and she arches her back, rubbing her ass against my groin as if to prove what my prize will be if I can beat her challenge.

And fuck me, do I want to win.

“Are you teasing me, Blake?” I rasp.

She peeks over her shoulder. “Are you finally realizing what’s at stake, Theo?”

I force myself to let her go, missing the feel of the curve of her hip against my palm. But I refuse to torture myself any longer. Not when it won’t get me anywhere. Not tonight, anyway. Not until I can prove she’s the real deal.

“Goodnight, Blake.”

With a coy smile teasing her lips, she holds my stare. “Goodnight, Theo.”

Suddenly, she turns around and grabs my bicep, keeping me in place while looking up at me with those bright green eyes one more time.

“One more thing,” she whispers.

My attention slides to her mouth. “Yeah?”

Her lips flicker with a ghost of a smile. “Good luck.”

Then she lets me go.

My footsteps feel heavy as I walk back to my car. But I don’t pull out of the driveway until she’s safely inside.

When the door closes behind her, I can’t help but smile as I shove my car into reverse.

You want me to prove it, Blake?

You won’t know what hit you.

31

BLAKELY

There’s a bag of cinnamon bears on the hood of my car along with a two-liter of orange soda. No note. But I don’t need it. Clearly, Teddy Taylor has struck again.

Grabbing the goodies from the top of my car, I put them on the passenger seat and drive to the rink. I’m still not sure if it was a good idea to throw down the gauntlet like I did, but I was tired of being tired. Tired of holding back. It isn’t like me. I’m the girl who goes after what she wants, and despite my best interest, I do want Theo. I’ve always wanted Theo. But I need to know he wants me too. And not only for a night. For the long run.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not convinced we’ll wind up married with two babies and a white picket fence or anything. But a solid relationship lasting longer than a weekend would be great. Especially when my internship is potentially on the line.

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