Page 37 of The Making of Mila and Blake
The microwave beeps and Sheri adds honey and the chopped strawberries to the oatmeal, pours a glass of sweet tea, and then carries Popeye’s breakfast upstairs to him on a tray.
Savannah takes another bite of her toast, munching loudly, and smirks. “So, you’re going to pull Blake to one side and. . .?”
I wait until I hear Sheri’s footsteps above me. Yet even though the coast is clear, I still lower my voice. “I want him to know that not only am I really, really not over him, but that I’m stillin lovewith him too. I’m going to tell him out loud.” I lose myself in a daydream, gazing absently into my mug. “And then maybe I’ll tear his clothes off.”
“TMI, Mila! TMI!” Savannah groans with a mock-gag, waving her toast in a plea to silence me.
I flash her a taunting grin. “Sorry, I forget that Tori is the only one I can talk to aboutravishingyour cousin.”
“Please stop,” Savannah says, closing her eyes and inhaling dramatically. “You guys are cute and all, and I’m totally here for you marrying him one day and being part of the family, but I do notneed to know what you plan to do to him.”
“Oh, but that chain!”
“MILA!”
I explode into uncontrollable giggles, feeling lightweight and joyful, just like I have the entire weekend since I last saw Blake. I dream of kissing him hard, of running my hands down the smooth skin of his stomach, of feeling his lips against my neck. Those things are all possibilities again and I never knew until now just how desperately I craved his touch and affection. It’s not a matter ofifanymore; it’s a case ofwhen,and my body fizzes with thrilling suspense.
The adrenaline charges through me and I do the only thing I can think of to release it– I dance. Freestyling, I bust out a random series of moves from one of my varsity dance team routines, throwing my body around the kitchen with precise hip-hop pops and locks.
“He loves me, he loves me, he loves me,” I chant, throwing my head forward and then whipping my hair back.
“What has happenedto you?” Savannah asks, but she is giggling too. She brushes the toast crumbs from her lap and gets up to join in, even though she has admitted to me before that she dances like a baby deer on ice.
I take her hands in mine and guide her movements, and it may be 7 a.m. but we are having a hell of time. There is no need for music, because the kitchen vibrates with the melody of our childlike laughter.
“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” Teddy says.
Savannah and I jerk around, startled. Teddy leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his chest, eyes smoldering with amusement, and we both turn crimson red from the humiliation of someone having witnessed our impromptu dance party.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I say, breathless. When it comes to dancing, I’m not shy as long as I’m part of a team, but God forbid anyone sees me busting a move in my room. “I took dance lessons as a kid, and I was on the varsity dance team at school.”
“And clearly, I did neither,” Savannah adds with a flustered laugh as she collapses back into a chair at the dining table. She grabs the remaining slice of toast and delicately nibbles the crust in an effort to seem cutesy around Teddy, because how embarrassingwould it be for the guy she likes to see her eat?
I bite back a smirk when I think of how Blake and I used to stuff our faces in front of one another, spilling sauce down ourselves without a care in the world. It always felt so natural with Blake, so comfortable. There was never any pressure to be perfect.
Sheri appears next to Teddy at the door, popping her head into the kitchen and gesturing at Savannah. “Can you come out to the stables with me for a sec, honey? I want to run through this week’s lessons. There’s a group lesson tomorrow I may need you to assist with.”
Savannah gasps with joy, throws her toast back onto her plate and rises from the table at supersonic speed, taking off with Sheri. From the kitchen window, I watch the two of them trek off to the stables. Savannah loves being a stablehand, but what she really dreams of is helping Sheri with the kids’ lessons. Teaching and nurturing the younger generation is Savannah’s passion– she’s studying early childhood education at Middle Tennessee State in the fall. She dreams of being a kindergarten teacher, and honestly? Savannah Bennett is exactly the kind of person I would have loved as a teacher.
“So,” Teddy says as he moves into the kitchen with a teasing smirk. “You can dance.”
But I realize this is the first time I have seen him since the weird altercation with Blake over the weekend, and I have questions. Ignoring the playfulness in his gaze, I prop my hands on my hips and ask, “What was with all the attitude on Friday night?”
Teddy wipes the smile from his face and sighs as though he knew this was coming. “I thought maybe your ex showed up to harass you.”
“Blake and I. . .” I struggle to find the words to explain exactly what Blake and I are, because at this point, I have no idea. “It’s complicated. We were just talking some things out, so I didn’t need you to put on that show for me. I know we joked around at the party, but. . .”
“Okay, okay. My bad,” Teddy apologizes, holding up his hands.
“And you didn’t need to yell at Bailey.”
“The dog?”
“Yes, Bailey the Dog,” I say. “He wasn’t going to go near the foxes. He’s a good boy.”
Teddy rolls his eyes and looks me up and down with a challenging edge to his expression. “How about you teach me some moves, Mila?”
It’s a smooth change of subject, but a suggestion that is utterly ridiculous. “I amnotteaching you how to dance.”
