Chapter 26

No dirt, sweat, or sun. I could not ask for a better day, even if it meant rain instead. Not only was it a day of no labor, we were shopping: something I loved. Being in the city, it meant being able to look nice for once. I was wearing a light blue frilly blouse, a black skirt, and flats. My hair was clipped back, showing off my mascara and new lipstick that complimented my outfit. Since Blake commented how he liked me without make-up, I laid off the foundation and eye-shadow for once. Which, yes, made me feel a little self-conscious.

I wasn't sure why I was trying to appeal to what he liked. It's not like we could make a move on each other. Believe me, it was becoming harder and harder. It was natural falling into the flirty and fun world we created together.

Walking the shops downtown, the rain pattered against the green umbrella Blake held above our heads. It forced us to walk close with our shoulders pressed together. Like myself, he took advantage of the day and wore a red flannel and jeans. His subtle cologne cradled my nose.

Though our objective was to find more things for the interior of the houses, we quickly were getting distracted. It was inevitable; every five stores was a coffee shop. Jesus, I can't remember the last time I indulged in a caramel mocha latte. Seeing maybe the 6th coffee shop ahead, I gave in and made us pause in our stride.

Blake glanced down to me. "Why are we stopping?"

"Listen, we need one more detour before we get to the rug shop."

The umbrella illuminated our faces in a green shade. He smiled and shook his head, speaking over the pouring rain. "Stopping at two jewelry stores wasn't enough?"

"I promise, this time, it's not jewelry," I said, nodding up towards the coffee shop. "Do you like coffee that isn't gross?"

"I like coffee... not poser coffee made for hipsters," he smirked.

"It's not hipser-ish. Now come on," I smirked, linking his arm in mine and guiding him to the coffee shop. Walking through the door, it allowed him to close the umbrella. I will admit... it was absolutely a hipster place. Everyone was young, with a 'unique' look, just like the decor. It earned me a distinct 'I told you so' stare as we waited behind the person in front of us.

It was hard not smiling up to him. "Do you trust me?"

He looked around. Clearly, he was out of his element. "Not sure if I do in here."

"You're going to trust me," I said, heading up to the counter to order for us. "Hi, I would like two iced caramel mocha lattes with an extra shot of espresso in each."

Once we got our drinks, we sat at a high round table next to the window. The rain continued pelting down against the sidewalk and streaked the window. He sat across from me, taking his sweet time in trying his coffee. It bugged the hell out of me.

"Dude, there is ice in it. You don't need to let it cool," I teased.

He rolled his eyes and snorted, sitting back in his seat. "I'm not going to like it."

"Yes, you will. Ever try anything like it?"

"Nope, but I'm—"

"Just try it," I said, snatching his plastic cup and waving it in front of him.

He snagged his drink and finally put his lips around the straw. Watching him carefully as he tried it, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. Not in disgust, just surprise. When he set it down, he was unable to hide an amused smile. He clearly loved it.

"I don't like it," he shrugged lightly.

I jutted a finger at him. "You love it."

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I hate it." Then, a second later, he picked it up and drank more. "These coffees were expensive, so I am going to force myself to drink it."

"Mhmm," I hummed, feeling accomplished. For once, I was the one to introduce him to something – and he liked it. "I'm surprised this is your first time trying anything more than generic coffee."

He smirked. "Why? Do I seem like the type to drink this kind of thing?"

"Hell no." He was nothing like the fake glasses and beanie-wearing youngsters in here. "With your family though, I figured you'd already be exposed to this."

"Well, my mom tried. She loved coming to places like this, and tried getting me to try whatever she would get." Resting his arms on the table, he smiled amusingly. "I love Oreo cookies, so she'd even get a blended Oreo coffee, but I refused to try it."

"Why?" I groaned. "The Oreo Iced Capps are amazing!"

He chuckled. "See, that's the thing. Doesn't matter how amazing something was. Even if it sounded great, I was extremely stubborn – on purpose just to make a point," he said, blue eyes in mine getting lost in the past. "We would go out to these fancy restaurants, and I would order the same thing. They would get me new designer clothes, and I stuck to being generic and cheap. I like simple things and I liked who I was. Even if I wanted to try something new, I wouldn't in front of my parents for the sake of my pride."

That sure took a turn I didn't expect. To purposefully stay a certain way, to not try new things... for his pride? It was strange, especially because Blake was open-minded and liked trying new things. "You did that... just to set yourself apart from them?"

"Yeah. Didn't matter if it was coffee, a new store, clothes, food, places to visit. I love doing new things and trying new things, but I wouldn't. Just so they wouldn't get their hopes up."

"Hopes up for what?"

"Me turning into one of them. Let's say I wanted to read about business or learn more about a certain subject. They would interpret that as 'oh, he must be coming around to our lifestyle.' Like fancy-schmany coffee," he said, picking up his cup in a gesture and taking a sip. "Trying something that went against my norm, she would get excited and try to introduce more things to me. Not for my sake, but theirs and their high-standards they had for me. The whole thing was weird."

Hell yeah it was weird. I couldn't imagine lying and pretending to be uninterested in things, just so his parents wouldn't get the wrong idea. "I was the opposite. I was content with everything. My dad tried introducing things to me, but I was stuck on a few things."

"That's hard to believe," he smiled teasingly.

I kicked him lightly under the table. "I was!"

"You didn't ever have a long list of new things you wanted? Or wanted to do?"

"Well yeah," I said, looking down and smirking. "But I was content with my life."

"Let me guess: your phone and high school drama?"

"Damn right," I smiled. "Friends and drama was my life."

Taking a sip of his coffee he loved so much, his eyes turned more serious. "I find it strange that the popular girl in high school... now hardly receives any visitors. You are never busy with any friends."

"Maybe I am too good for them," I said, uneasy about where the conversation went.

Leaning forward, raising a brow, he spoke in a lower voice. "Come on. Tell me why."

I sighed. There were many... many reasons I didn't have my friends in my life anymore. Which one would be the easiest to share? Good lord, they all sucked. "There are... many reasons that I don't see my friends anymore." Main reason: my friends are no longer my friends.

"Okay..." he nodded, waiting for me to continue.

It was so difficult to give details. "Look, I... have done a lot of shitty things. A lot."

Speaking in a more intimate voice, his blue sweet eyes buried themselves in mine. "Why are you so scared to reveal anything about your past?"

That was an obvious question to avoid. Yet, his gaze compelled me to answer. Resting my arms on the table, I slowly shook my head. "Because... it's... that bad."

"The past is in the past. People evolve and change. I would never judge you for things you did in the past."

"You would." Especially for things that weren't that long ago. Hell, he was lucky I was even sharing this with him. This alone felt like I was opening up too much. "Just because it's in the past doesn't mean what happened is okay. Doesn't mean I should be forgiven. Doesn't mean you wouldn't look at me differently."

Both of us leaning against the table, engaged and searching each other's eyes, my heart rate was picking up – for a few reasons. "It doesn't mean I wouldn't understand though," he said.

"Alright. If that's the case, tell me the worst thing you've ever done." Seeing the hesitation in his gaze made me smirk. "Not so easy, is it?"

Scoffing, he took a moment in thought. "It would take a bit to explain."

"We have time."

After a moment, he finally shared. "So... remember I said I moved out here at 15? I hated life in the city, wanted freedom...?"

"Yeah," I said, taking another sip, already intrigued.

"Well, my parents didn't just... let me go. I didn't just say goodbye and move out here. They were very much against the idea, so... I did what I felt was necessary to make it happen. To the point where they not only changed their minds, but they sent me out here."

Blake was a very open and honest man, but he definitely didn't share that part of it before. In fact, that last part contradicted what he said before. "Wait, you said your parents hated that you moved out here. They begged you to come back—"

"They sent me out here temporarily, intending on me coming home. I just never did."

Jesus, what happened that made them want to send him out here? Away from what they wanted for him? Blake told me there was a lot of pressure at home, a lot of expectations, but god, it must have been awful. And as he continued, turns out, it really was awful.

The rain tapping against the window, the customers filtering in and out, and soft indie music... it all faded. There was just his words, and that cautious look in his eye. "My parents wanted the best for us, like I told you before. They planned for me to go to a prestigious school, and make a lot of money, but what was worse, they wanted to change me. That's why I refused to try new things. They tried introducing me to different academic programs early on. Every tried picking my friends. Like I said, my folks weren't rich, but they acted like it. Their heads were in the clouds and they wanted perfect kids. There was love, and they weren't extremely strict, but they made it clear... they were not happy with the way I was."

"But that's just school and... I don't know, surface stuff. Hobbies and likes and dislikes... it had nothing to do with you and the person you are."

"Yeah, but it revolved around that. They wanted me involved in activities, trying new things, in hopes that it would change me. Change how forgiving I was, understanding, laid-back. They would be concerned with how... active my imagination was. 'Creativity is great, but it won't make you smart' was something my dad always said. Anyway, putting all this and more on a 13 year old kid... it made me fight back. Which, in turn, made them throw worse things at me.

"To make it clear I wouldn't change for them, I fought back – with more than just refusing to try new things. I started purposefully failing my classes. Dropped out of robotics and stopped going to reading groups they had my brother and I enrolled in. I told them I was never going to go to college, just to piss them off. Just to tear down their perfect vision for me. I'm not saying they didn't love me, but... they didn't care what made me happy. I told them, countless times, how I wanted to be happy. How I wanted to play with real friends, how I wanted to go fishing, and be outside... and they would ground me for my own good they said. They gave me personal research projects when I was only 12 and 13... researching microbiology, the medical field, programs in college for potential future careers. If college was necessary, I told them I would go to trade school. I like working with my hands... nope, they would have none of that. So, I told them I wasn't going to college. I slacked and was so angry... it was rough," he said, finishing off the iced coffee and taking a deep breath.

His childhood was much more... intense than he lead me to believe. I couldn't imagine, being so miserable, being stuck and forced to be a certain way. Everything he did in response to such a shit life made complete sense as he continued. "For about a year or so, I told them I wanted to live with my Uncle Rick. He came to town once in a while, and when he did, we would go hunting and fishing. It was fun – and he told me his philosophy on life. I wanted to be happy and I wasn't. I kept bugging them, to let me move in with him, and they wouldn't have it. It only made me slack more, become more angry, and in return, they punished me more. So, I started to really rebel. I started sneaking out at night and causing all kinds of trouble – and not the fun kind of trouble. I did worse and worse things, and blamed it on them because they refused to let me move in with my uncle. I finally... went too far."

He paused and didn't continue. His sweet blue eyes shifted. There was a cautious and observant glint in his gaze, as if watching for my reaction. "I just turned 15, was angry, and sick of everything. I just... broke. One day, while mom went grocery shopping, I... stole all of my mom's jewelry. It was very expensive – and was given to her by my great-grandmother. It meant a lot to her... but that made me want to sell it even more, I was so angry. I pawned it off and used that money to catch a bus and run away." Pausing, he looked down and sighed. "The next morning, the police caught me and took me home."

For such a great and caring guy, always very empathetic and understanding... I wouldn't have expected him to do those things. All it meant though was he's come very far. I couldn't blame him either. He was young and his childhood was unfair. In some ways, it seemed cruel. "That was the worst thing you've ever done?"

Looking back up to me, he nodded. "Yup. And yes, I still feel bad about it. After that, my parents sent me out here. Though it was what I wanted, they couldn't handle me anymore and hoped being away from everything would help. Which it did. After all those awful things, I was very sorry. I made up with my family. Though I was sorry, I felt what I did was... justified."

"They forgave you and everything? Did they finally open their eyes a bit?"

"In a way. They admitted certain things were harsh and they understood I was acting out. But, you've met my mom. They didn't change their ways. After a while, they wanted me to come home. Talked about a future of success, about school, all these expectations, and without respecting me.... I just couldn't handle it. So, I stayed here and it was for the best. The past is the past," he said, smiling slightly. "Does it change your view of me?"

I scoffed, remembering what we were talking about before. Remembering how he was trying to make a point: that it's okay to talk about my troubled history. "I do not judge you for those things you did. And no, it doesn't change my view of you," I said, giving him credit there. "However, there is a difference."

"What's that?"

"You were 15. And what you did was justified." What I did wasn't justified – and I sure couldn't use age as an excuse since, up until a couple months ago, I was still making terrible choices.

He lowered his brows. "You don't think I'd understand?"

"I don't think you'd look at me the same," I said, offering a sad smile. "So I'm sorry, I can't tell you certain things."

"You will," he said confidently.

Honestly, I wanted to. I wanted to tell him everything. It was tempting when he displayed so much support and understanding. Tempting when I had nobody to talk to. It made me want to believe that he really wouldn't look at me differently. However, what I did... it made myself, my family, my friends all distance themselves. Blake was such an important person in my life, I couldn't risk losing him either.

I just wish he understood how much he meant to me. Clearly, I meant a lot to him. Even though he was an open person, I don't think that story he just shared was something most people knew about. The thought made me smile. "Thank you... for telling me a little about your past."

"It's no problem," he said. "Not sure why, but it's easy to talk to you."

"I'm not sure why either," I chuckled.

It was a special moment, him sharing that with me. Even though I couldn't do the same, it felt almost like I had. Just talking about the fact that I had issues, issues with my past, and acknowledging with him how bad it was... it felt significant. Looking into his eyes... it was significant for him to. He was staring at me with an admiration and sweetness I didn't want to leave. It made my heart jump a few times, especially when he took a few seconds too long to look away.

Once we headed back out into the rain, that sweetness between us didn't leave. He kept offering me these glances, and our banter returned with a teasing and flirty air around us. It wasn't long until we reached the cute rug shop down the street. After browsing all the options (and giving my input), Blake ordered a patterned area rug for each house. They actually looked really nice – and fitting too for country-style homes. Despite this, that flirty sweetness never left. It felt like our objective took a back burner. We couldn't stop talking and joking around.

After putting in our order, we headed towards the door. "So, when am I going to learn what this special project is? Before or after you admit how much you loved that coffee?"

"First of all, I absolutely hated that coffee."

"Sure you did."

"As for your project... you'll see," he said, opening the door for me.

Come on! 'You'll see' was all I was getting? I tried guessing what this special project was earlier, but he just wasn't budging. Not like I minded. The special project made me curious, but I was so wrapped up in just being around him, I didn't mind.

Once we left the store, it was only raining harder. I stuck to his side like glue – except more like desperate and sticky glue. I was leaning into him more under the umbrella, my arm linked with his and our shoulders pressed together. I couldn't help it though. By now, the rain picked up harder, kicking up the puddles around us as we walked.

"You're like a cat," he chuckled over the rain.

"How?"

"Aside from the priss? I don't know, maybe because you are scared of the rain," he said over the pattering rain, glancing down to me with a wide pretty smile.

Trying to ignore our faces being inches apart, I rolled my eyes and smiled back. "Hey, I wore flats today, and a skirt, which I regret. I don't want my feet getting too wet."

"Oh my god, you're so right, the world would be over if your feet got wet! Oh no," he called dramatically, nudging against me playfully as we walked.

"Shut up," I laughed, bumping him back.

"And it's still warm out, it's not like you are going to catch a cold," he teased.

"Maybe for once I want to look nice and presentable since I hardly get the chance to anymore."

Blake stopped in place and turned to me. Holding the umbrella above us, his green-shaded face tilted down and he searched my eyes for a long second. Just... gazing into my eyes. His wide smile slowly dimmed as he got... lost. It wasn't nonchalant, it wasn't discrete, it was intentionally intimate. It was the type of gaze that made my breath catch. Every second that past, I was getting more lost. I just stared back into his beautiful blue eyes.

Then, that sweet moment broke. A small smile caressed his lips again. Then, suddenly, he raised his free hand... and folded the umbrella down!

"Oh!" I gasped from the cool pelting rain! What the hell?! I just told him why I didn't want to get wet!

Face and body getting pelted, I tried snatching the closed umbrella, but he was off. Yes, he jogged away through the rain! What was he doing?! Looking back towards me, he even smirked!

"Get back here! You're not funny, this isn't funny!" I shouted, running after him down the sidewalk.

With water pouring down, each step kicked water up. I was more drenched with every second I chased him, becoming more and more pissed. All I wanted was one day to look nice, to look presentable, and dress up without getting sweaty, muddy, without my make-up smearing! Yards ahead, he suddenly bolted out of sight, down a little alley between the shops. God, he was going to get his ass beat!

I reached the alley and cut sharply around the corner. The second I did, before I could see anything through the rain, an arm swooped out and caught me. The asshole was waiting for me around the corner against the damn building! Blake pulled me against his chest, then leaned back against the brick building in the alley.

Immediately, I smacked his chest over his soaked shirt. Glaring up at him, I blinked away the rain spilling down on us. "What the fuck?! That wasn't funny."

Several feet into the alley, it was much darker, but I could still see him clearly. Hair flat and sticking to his neck and face, his arm didn't loosen around me. With seriousness, breath moving fast, he said, "You look nice and presentable every day, believe me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you wanted to look nice and presentable because you don't get the chance to anymore. You're wrong. You always look amazing. I took the umbrella away and you still look amazing."

Caught off guard, my anger completely dissolved. "No, I don't."

He raised his hands up and cupped my wet cheeks. Face inches from mine, he slowly shook his head. "Trust me. You do," he said hoarsely.

Immediately, I was back to feeling vulnerable. I was getting caught up in everything – especially the knowledge that Sid was definitely not in this alley to see us. Grasping his sides, holding his soaked body back, the rain clapped around us and against us. All the while... we were lost. I wanted him so bad – so damn bad right now. Staring into his eyes... I was so close. His grasp drew me in and his dripping wet face showed nothing but desire. Sid wasn't here, there was no way he was here; he wasn't around, I could do this. I could get away with this....

Breath hitching, I tilted my face up more, my nose brushing against his. In response, he removed one hand from my cheek and wrapped it tightly around my back. Droplets ran down his face, fell to mine, and the rain was loud music around us. But all that didn't exist. Just his intense blue eyes. Within them, I could see it, I could feel it. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

Then... I remembered reality.

"Blake," I whispered. "I... I can't."

While his grip tightened around my back, his other hand slid from my cheek to my soaked hair. Entangling his fingers in my hair sent a shiver down my spine that made me quiver against him. "Tell me to stop then," he whispered, leaning down with our dripping lips inches apart.

That's all I needed. That one word: stop. I had to say that one word. And... when I parted my lips to speak it, I couldn't. I tried to say it, tried to speak, but my willpower was shot. I've never felt a man hold me with such possession and I loved it. I could not tell him to stop. Instead, our breaths picked up, eyes burning in each others. My silence was answer enough for him.

Suddenly, his hand in my hair pressed me forward and he kissed me. Lips pressing into mine... my heart shook violently as I caved. Caved in every way you can perceive the word. Pressing into him, I wrapped my arms around his strong body and kissed him back without a thought. Without daring to think. Meshing our wet lips together, my body pressed more into his. The muscle under his clothes, the intention in his lips, the desire in his hold... it swallowed me whole. And though I knew it was a mistake, I couldn't stop.

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I'm guessing you guys probably didn't expect that coming up yet. After all, I usually build it up more. But it doesn't mean everything will be smooth easy sailing. That's just not how I roll, nothing is ever that easy haha. So, what did you guys think! Let me know!