“So, you go to church,” I say flatly.
“Clearly.”
He nods to the side, gesturing to the edge of the parking lot by a row of shrubs, then walks off in that direction. What the hell? I steal a peek at Popeye, LeAnne and Sheri. None of them are paying attention to us, so I reluctantly drag my feet to catch up with Blake.
“So why areyouhere?” he asks.
“Because my aunt and my grandpa wanted me to be. So, I guess I’ll be here every week, too.”
Blake narrows his eyes as though he’s trying to read me, but I give nothing away, keeping my expression calm and neutral. “How long are you sticking around in Fairview for, anyway?”
“For as long as I have to.”
“For as long as youhaveto?” he repeats, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like someone who’s here because they want to stay with family.”
Crap. I’m caught off guard by his observation and I rack my brain for a response that will clear up my mistake. But the longer I’m frozen in silence, the more Blake realizes he’s hit the nail on the head.
“Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat and saving me from having to speak, “I’m sorry about last night.”
“You’re. . . I’m sorry – what?” Did he just apologize without any kind of prompt?
“I’m sorry about last night,” he says again.
“Why?”
“Because you were right. I was being a jerk.” He shrugs casually as though he doesn’t want to make this a big deal, like he’s sheepish about having to own up to his actions. “I knew I wasn’t doing you any favors, and I’m sorry if I got you in hot water with your dad or anything.”
“I wish you could tell that to Ruben,” I say under my breath. I idly tug at the ends of my hair, absorbing Blake’s sincere apology, and feel a bit. . . Conflicted? He riled me up the entire evening last night, but now he seems almost – nice. Which is really, really confusing considering I didn’t want to see his face ever again. But hedidcome to my aid last night, after all. . . “Thanks for your help with the gate.”
“Blake!” LeAnne calls, waving her son back over and breaking the moment of awkward silence between us.
Blake holds up two fingers to her, asking for two more minutes, then steps closer to me. “Give me your phone,” he says.
“Absolutely not!” I protest indignantly. Does he think I’m that stupid after what happened last night? Protectively, I increase the distance between us again. “No one is ever touching my phone again.”
“Okay, then here’s mine.” He digs his phone out from his pocket and hands it over. When I don’t immediately take it from him, he reaches for my hand and forces his phone into my palm. His fingertips are warm as they brush against my skin and I hate the unauthorized little jump my heart takes. “Add your number.”
I eyeball his phone in my hand with uncertainty. “And why would I do that?”
“Didn’t last night teach you anything? You need to save people’s numbers so that you can call them in an emergency.”
“No offense, but you’re probably the last person I would ever call in an emergency,” I remark, but Blake laughs as though we are merely bantering with each other.
“Just do it, Mila,” he instructs, like he honestly expects me to do what he says.
It’s not like I’m giving out Dad’s private number or anything, but nonetheless I still hear Ruben’s voice in my head, warning bells ringing. I have to be careful about whose hands my number gets into, because although it’s not the end of the world if it ever got leaked online, I would be endlessly harassed by Dad’s fans and the media trying to get gossip and information. And that is a headache I really don’t want to deal with.
“Please don’t pass it on toanyone,” I say, fixing him with a threatening look as I add my number to his contact list.I hand him his phone back. “It’s the least you owe me.”
“Your precious digits are safe with me,” he says somewhat mockingly, hand on his heart. He checks out my number on his phone, then lifts his head and stares at me with an expectant gaze at the same time as my phone begins to vibrate. Before I can even attempt to reach for it, Blake hangs up. “There, now you have my number too. Just in case you get bored of hanging around with Savannah.” He winks and then strolls back across the parking lot to meet his mom. She puts her hand on his shoulder and guides him over to speak with some of the other churchgoers.
I shake my head to wipe away the hint of a smile and then make my own way back to the crowd. I haven’t seen Savannah and her family since everyone congregated outside, so I figure they’ve made a quick getaway. Luckily for me, Popeye and Sheri have decided to finally leave too. I find them back at the van.
“What were you and Blake talking about?” Sheri asks, a slight hesitation in her voice.
“Just stuff,” I say, reaching for the door.
“Mayor Avery is so gracious, isn’t she? Even now. . .” Popeye comments, and I jolt to a standstill.
