Page 26 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

I help her finish up, passing her supplies and holding the light when she needs it. We make a fantastic team, if I do say so, but I already knew that we would. Leon pops in to check on things, barely meeting my eye. He thanks Blake and apologizes before letting me know he’s going to get some sleep.

Blake bandages Jasper and I have him swallow some antibiotics and a couple of leftover pain pills I found in his stash. They’re old as fuck, probably from one of his many football injuries in college, but I figure anything helps. He’s asleep before I turn the lights off.

“He’ll need to be monitored closely for infection in the upcoming days. His bandages need to be changed daily and the wound needs to stay clean.” She bites her lip and gazes at a spot on the wall. “Oh, and his antibiotics and some anti-inflammatories. He’ll be in pain when he wakes up.”

“Got it,” I say on a yawn. With Jasper patched up and asleep I feel my body starting to crash. I give Blake a once over and see that her nightshirt is stained in blood. “Come with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She meets my gaze with wide, blinking eyes. “Then you’ll take me home?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Blake. I’m about to pass out where I stand. It’s been a long fucking night for both of us. Let’s get cleaned up, sleep some, and after you check on my friend, I’ll bring you home.” I don’t wait for her response before I start walking toward the bathroom that Jasper and I share. Blake hesitates but then follows me.

“You promise you’ll bring me home later?”

She’s twisting the edge of her nightshirt, waiting for my response. “I’m too exhausted to bullshit you.”

Hoping I’ve made her feel comfortable enough to believe me, I step in front of the bathroom sink and pull my shirt over my head. I want to rip this fucking mask off my face but I still can’t trust that Blake won’t go to the cops. Not yet.

I feel her eyes on me from the doorway as I wipe myself down with a damp washcloth. Showering takes more energy than I have at the moment, so this will have to do. I pull my mask up to brush my teeth quickly and swipe on some fresh deodorant.

“You can join me, I won’t bite.”

Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. I can’t break my gaze away from her perfect mouth. “I’m okay. I can clean up when I get home.”

I grab a fresh washcloth and dampen it with warm water. She watches me with wide eyes as I step closer. I expect her to back away or flinch but she freezes. Gently, I skim the cloth against her cheek, testing her. When she sucks in a breath, I inch closer, our bodies almost flush against each other.

As I reach her other cheek, she shakes her head slightly, snapping back to the present. “No. Don’t touch me.” She pushes my chest, and I stumble against the edge of the counter.

“Blake,” I scold. “That wasn’t very nice.” Her fight is the spark that ignites my blood. I close the distance between us, crowding her against the doorframe. Her throat bobs as she gulps audibly. “Let me.”

With my free hand, I cup her chin, hard enough that she knows I mean business without hurting her. She wraps her hand around my wrist and squeezes. “What’s your problem, Freddy? I’m not a child. I can wash my own face.”

“Trust me, Blake, I know you’re not a child.” I draw the cloth over her cheeks and down the slope of her neck. The loose neckline of her shirt slides off her shoulder, revealing a smallbumblebee tattoo. I skim it with the cloth as her chest heaves and her dark lashes flutter. She digs her fingernails into my skin, but I continue cleaning her, loving the fact that she’s leaving her mark on me.

I bring the cloth lower, washing the dip of her collarbones, right above the swell of her perfect, full breasts, then back up the column of her neck. Time is suspended as her gray eyes lock onto mine. I imagine dropping the cloth and wrapping my palm around her graceful neck. I’d push her against the tile wall and bite that plump bottom lip between my teeth.

Her eyes seem to darken as her lips part. “I-I think I’m clean now.” Shoving me away again, she twists out of my grasp. It takes me a moment to reconnect with my surroundings.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” I brush against her in the doorway and head across the hall to my bedroom. She’s frozen where she stands.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she says with her chin raised.

“No. You’re sleeping in here, in my bed.” Her mouth opens to argue but I add, “I can carry you again, or you can walk. Your choice.”

“But you said?—”

“If I was going to fuck you tonight, Blake, I would have done it already. Get your sweet ass in here before I throw you over my shoulder again.”

She closes her mouth and listens like a good fucking girl. Crossing my bedroom, I pull out a clean T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts for her to change into. “Sit on the edge of the bed.”

“Why?” I’m too exhausted for her questions. She squeals as I pick her up and plop her on the edge of my bed. Kneeling before her, I hold one leg at a time against my knee and wash her dirty, cut up feet with the washcloth. “You don’t have to,” she argues.

“I know,” I say, meeting her gaze. Once I finish cleaning her off, I grab a pair of thick socks from the bin in my closet andpull them on her feet. “That’s better. I’ll turn around so you can change.”

Her gaze bounces between me and my folded up clothes beside her on the bed, like she’s at war with herself. “I don’t need your clothes. I’m fine.”

Huffing, I crouch down and hook my fingers into the hem of her nightshirt. She scrambles back, so I let go and hold my hands in front of me. “Either change, or I dress you. Your choice. I don’t want blood on my clean sheets.”

She blinks and nods to study the filthy nightshirt. Resignation spreads across her face as she silently grabs the clean clothes beside her. I can’t help but smirk while I turn to face the wall. Knowing that my clothes are against her bare skin has my heart thumping in my chest.

---