Page 41 of When Fate Breaks
“No, really–”
“It’s not like we won’t see each other again,” he says, cutting me off.
“But,really–”
“Evangeline.”
“Fine, I’ll shut up,” I sigh. Blake chuckles at that, shaking his head. “Thank you, really.”
Blake nods, lingering in the doorway. Even though I know I should probably just say goodnight, something in me doesn’t want to just yet, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.
“How’s your shed?” I ask.
Blakes brows raise in surprise. “Oh. Um, it’s good. Great actually. It’s just about done.” He slips his cell phone out of his pocket, unlocking it, then hesitates. “Do you want to see?” he asks, motioning towards the phone.
“Oh, yeah! Sure,” I nod, stepping closer to look at the screen.
Blake swipes through several pictures and I hardly recognize what I’m seeing. He’s completely rebuilt the previous sorry excuse for a shed into a full blown enclosed garden/man cave hybrid situation. He’s installed large panes of glass on one side of the wall, tons of plants and flowers sitting out on a homemade looking wooden table against the windows. The other wall of the shed is covered in a built-in bookcase, paperbacks and knick knacks filling it to the brim. A small table and a wooden chair, also appearing to be made by hand, sit against the back wall of the structure. Though it’s still a little rough around the edges and clearly not finished, I can’t believe how much Blake has managed to transform the space.
“Wow,” I whisper. “That’s amazing, Blake.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, swiping to the next picture, showing a different angle of the room.
“Wow,” I say again. “You’d never know it was the same shed, if you can even call it that anymore. It's crazy to see the progress.”
“It’s not finished yet,” Blake says, refusing again to accept any form of praise. “If you want,” he clears his throat, “I can send you more progress photos. As I finish it up.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling blood rush to my face. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Blake questions, surprise in his tone.
“Yeah,” I smile. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, cool,” he says, adjusting his baseball cap with a smirk as he hands me his phone.
I type in my phone number and contact name, double checking it before I hand it back to him. It takes less than five seconds for Blake to change it fromAnnie JackstoEvangeline Jacks, replacing the information without comment. I roll my eyes, smiling to myself as he locks the phone and slips it back into his pocket.
“Well, goodnight,” he says.
“For realthis time,” I say. “No more heart attacks, please.”
“For real,” he laughs. “I promise.”
I glance from my feet back to him as I let the door close, taking a few steps into the hallway. “Good. I’m just gonna grab a water bottle from the vending machine,” I say, motioning with my thumb down the hall.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay,” I agree. “Thank you again, for this,” I say, holding up his t-shirt.
“Yeah,” he says, just barely taking a step back. “Goodnight.”
I nod, starting to turn away and then pause, spinning back around and marching forward, closing the space between Blake and me.
He holds up his hands and straightens in surprise as I throw my arms around him, settling into his chest and forcing myself through the foreign feeling. After a few seconds, his arms relax, falling around me and pulling me in closer. His smell invades my nose, a combination of cedar and citrus like I’ve never smelled before. We stay that way for several seconds, neither of us speaking.
I finally break the embrace, stepping back from Blake and barreling straight for the vending machine. “Goodnight,” I call over my shoulder.
When I finally allow myself to look back, Blake is gone.
