Page 7 of The Making of Mila and Blake
I just didn’t realize it would hurt sogood.
I want to touch him; run my fingers from his chain necklace all the way down his chest. I want to wrap my arms around him and pull him in close to inhale his musky cologne. I want to kiss him, hard.
So this is how it feels when a thousand suppressed emotions hit you like a tsunami. It throws off your center of gravity and leaves you weightless, no longer able to steady yourself on the ground beneath your feet.
“Blake,” I repeat, releasing the breath trapped in my lungs. “Hi.”
The door swings open behind me and Savannah almost topples into me. She abruptly halts by my side with a hushed, “Oh.”
“Hey, Savannah,” Blake says, and something about the way his clenched jaw slackens tells me he is grateful for the interruption.
Despite them being relatives, Savannah’s discomfort around Blake in this moment is palpable. “Are you back in town just for the weekend?” she asks.
“For the summer,” Blake says. His gorgeous eyes shift to meet mine, still narrow and tense. I wonder what seeing meagain means for him. Is his stomach twisting and turning? Is his pulse racing? Is the sight of me standing in front him as earth-shattering as it is for me?
“Mila’s here for a few weeks,” Savannah says, treading carefully. Her gaze flashes between Blake and me, like she is wondering which one of us will crack under the pressure first. So far, neither of us.
“I flew in today,” I say lightly and attempt a genuine smile. An olive branch, an effort toward civility. No matter how badly Blake’s radio silence ripped me to pieces, it still feels just like yesterday that I was falling in love with him.
Scratch that.
Iwasin love with Blake.
Those feelings. . . I thought they were gone, I thought the only thing I had left for Blake was resentment. And there is– resentment and distrust, hurt and abandonment– but there’s everything else too. Everything I felt before.
A girl hurries around the corner from the parking lot, jangling a pair of car keys in her hand. “Okay, got my phone!” she says, tucking the keys into Blake’s back pocket and then entwining her hand with his. She looks up, smiling brightly and huddling in even closer to Blake.
The heat from my face disperses, replaced by a coldness that chills my veins. The vise in my chest grips tighter. I blink hard at her hand in Blake’s, at Blake’s hand in hers.
“Savannah,” Blake says, then hesitates. “Mila.” I force my shell-shocked stare toward him, and he clears his throat and says, “This is Olivia.”
Neither Savannah nor I say anything. Moments of agonizing silence pass where Blake drops his eyes to the ground, and Olivia holds her smile despite the obvious tension. She is naturally pretty, her cheeks perfectly rosy without the need for blush, and a pair of round glasses stylishly frame her face. Her brunette hair is pinned into a messy bun, complete with decorative braids, and my body ignites with pure, honest jealousy. She is with Blake. My Blake.
“Hi,” she says. “It’s so nice to finally meet some of Blake’s friends!”
“Savannah’s my cousin. And Mila. . .” Blake says in a low voice. He tightens his hand around Olivia’s, secure and protective. He looks at me and in the coldest of tones, he finishes, “Mila isn’t my friend.”
He may as well have shot me in the heart. That’s what it feels like, his statement. A complete and utter jolt to my nervous system that sends me reeling. It’s like I mean nothing to him.Nothing.
Olivia shoots Blake a perplexed look, but he pulls her by the hand, brushing past me without a second glance and disappearing inside Jefferson’s to meet up with his friends. As the door slams shut, Savannah turns to gape at me.
“Blake has a. . .girlfriend?” I rasp. It crossed my mind once or twice, the idea of Blake meeting someone else, but it always seemed so abstract. I could never reallypicture him with anyone else, but now that image is real, it’s in front of me, and it’s an absolute shock to my system.
“I swear I had no idea,” Savannah says, horrified, but I don’t stay to listen.
Not only am I in shock at encountering Blake again, I am now humiliated.I move briskly across the parking lot toward Savannah’s car and notice Blake’s truck in the far corner. It’s the same truck he’s always owned, and I can’t help but remember all the kisses we shared on its tailgate.
“Take me home,” I urge desperately, pulling at the locked car door as Savannah races after me. She scrambles to fish her keys from her purse. “Please,Savannah.”
“You don’t want to go somewhere else? We still need to eat,” she reminds me as we both jump inside the car. I yank my seatbelt so hard it locks itself. “We could get takeout.”
“Please just take me home,” I whisper.
And Savannah does just that.
4
It’s not the first night back in town I imagined. It’s only seven thirty and already I’m back at the ranch despite Savannah’s pleas to stay out and do something, anything,in an effort to salvage the evening. But I am wiped. The exhaustion from the flight pressing down on me mixed with the aftershock of seeing Blake has me lethargically dragging myself out of Savannah’s car.
