Maggie interrupted my thoughts. “So how is everything with Blake?”
“It’s fine, I guess. I mean, he gets on my nerves, but whatever.” I did my best to sound dismissive because I didn’t want to talk about Blake, even though he was rapidly becoming all I thought about.
Maggie often gushed about how hot he was, but I always pretended indifference, which was not true at all. Every time I spoke of Blake, an onslaught of conflicting feelings hit me. I held a lot of resentment towards Blake from high school. He had been a part of a group that often bullied not only me but a lot of other students. Blake had always been egotistical and walked around with an air of superiority. Now, these old emotions were mixed with a stronger attraction and a newfound liking for his indulgent humor.
***
After lunch, Maggie and I drove back to campus and headed to class. I heard my name called and turned to see Blake walking towards us. Maggie walked away, calling over her shoulder, “Catch you later.”
“What?” I asked as he approached me looking incredibly handsome in his green shirt that perfectly matched his eyes.
“I have a late practice tonight, and my mom can’t get me. Will you stay late and take me home?” Blake asked.
I bit my lip, indecisive. I needed to get home and do homework, but I didn’t want to leave him in a lurch. “Okay,” I finally agreed because it wasn’t important where I studied. I could do the homework while I waited.
“Awesome. Thanks, kid, I appreciate it.” He grinned brightly at me.
I scrunched my nose and said, “Don’t call me that.”
He winked at me, and my heart skipped a beat. “See ya later, kid,” he called as he jogged off.
I shook my head at his behavior, a small smile on my face, and headed to class, sighing as I thought about what a long day it would be. I managed to get through my last two classes and walked to the practice field. I sat on a set of bleachers and pulled out my laptop to work on a paper.
The practice lasted a little over two hours, and the sun set just as the players left the field. I had finished some work but ended up watching Blake more than I worked. I had to admit, he had some justification for his cocky behavior because he was extremely talented. I had never been interested in sports, but I could barely tear my eyes away from his lean body practically gliding past on the field. He was fast and strong in his movements, dodging tackles with graceful agility. I had never seen Blake so focused on anything before. He was so in the moment, playing with a fierce intent and glowing passion. When practice finally ended, my muscles were tightly wound. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before I gathered my stuff and climbed down the bleachers, waiting for Blake to grab his gear. We walked to the car in silence, and I tossed my bag in the backseat when we got to the car, feeling a bit awkward.
My own body was tense after watching him play. The way his body moved was compelling, and I felt uncomfortable being so close. Images of the way he moved reappeared in my head, intensifying the building attraction I felt for Blake. We made small talk on the ride home, but I was grateful to have the road in front of me to focus on. When we arrived, we headed inside to find that our parents had gone out and that we were completely alone.
I threw my backpack on the living room couch and headed for the kitchen to grab something to eat. Blake ran upstairs, mentioning a shower. Opening the fridge, I pulled out some veggies for a salad along with some chicken. I hummed to myself as I cooked, letting the stress and tension of the day melt away.
I was in the middle of cutting up vegetables for the salad when a voice behind me said, “Want some help?”
Blake was standing directly behind me. He wore a smirk on his face as he looked down at me. I stepped away from him. “You scared me.” His hair was wet, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, indicating that he had just stepped out of the shower. He caught me looking at him, and I blushed furiously. “Go put some clothes on.”
His smile widened, and he stepped closer to me, backing me into the kitchen counter. I could smell his shampoo as I inhaled, and the smell was tantalizing, stirring all kinds of odd tremors where I least expected them. Looking intensely into my eyes, he whispered seductively, “I don’t think you want me to.”