Page 66 of Level With Me
“There’s no one here,” Blake said. “Get inside.”
My stomach swooped at his sudden hardness. He was right, there was no one around. There was no one to see him cross over to where I stood and grip my face in both his hands. No one to see my arms wrapping around his neck like they belonged there. No one to see Blake’s mouth hungry on mine; greedy, nipping at me like he had that night he didn’t remember.
He didn’t remember.
I tensed, bracing my hands on his chest.
“Blake,” I said. “Stop.”
He froze.
I took a step back, needing space so I could get the words out. “I have to tell you something.”
Even if this was a onetime thing, I couldn’t go into it with anything less than total honesty. If everything else was a lie, I needed to at least keep what we had true.
He looked alarmed. “What is it?”
Heart pounding, I blurted it out. “We kissed, that night.”
He froze. “What?”
“That night, when you were drunk. We kissed. And you…”
“You told me we didn’t sleep together.”
“We didn’t!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t… I stopped anything from happening.”
“When?” he asked. I still couldn’t tell if he was upset or just shocked.
“What do you mean, when?”
“When did you stop it?”
“After we kissed. Well, after you… showed me.”
My eyes went down to the still-swollen bulge between his legs.
His eyes went wide. Then he turned around. “Jesus.” He strode to the wall opposite the door, the only one unadorned with equipment.
“You’re mad,” I said, even as a streak of heat went through me. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It just didn’t make sense to tell you at the time,” I sounded defensive, I knew. Like I was making excuses. “Things were awkward enough.”
He turned around to face me. “Cassandra, if I’d known—”
“You held my hand, Blake. That night. You held my hand when we walked to the room. You told me I was pretty, you…”
I trailed off. What was I supposed to say? He’d stroked my ego? That I was that insecure? It would sound like I was blaming him, and I wasn’t I truly wasn’t. It was on me.
It was dim in here, the only light coming in from the murky, overcast day outside. He took a step toward me, his face laced with anger.
But that only revived my anger. It might not be his fault, but I did stop him. And yes, he had been drunk, but he’d been the one instigating. “I stopped before anything happened—”
“No,” he said.
No?
“This is not on you. This is my fault for getting drunk that night. I was being nihilistic. I put that pressure on you by saying that… I”—he grasped my hand—“You’re beautiful, Cassandra, but I’d want you even if you weren’t, okay? Yes, I was attracted to the way you looked that first morning, and our… isolated situation. But I liked the way you pushed back. I liked watching you that first day in the boardroom, not ready to take my shit. I like how you’ve never let me get away with being your savior. And now that we’ve spent time together? You’re the highlight of every fucking day, Cass, I swear to God. I don’t want you to think you’re incredible because I tell you that you are. I want you to know that because it’s true.”
I swallowed, having a hard time absorbing everything he’d said. This man… this incredible man. I realized right at that moment that I’d broken my vow to myself. My heart was wide open.
