Page 10 of Hot Shot
“Got some bread to go with it?”
“Yeah, the loaf of sourdough I made two days ago should still be okay, we can toast it if it’s gone stale. It’s in the cupboard over there.” I indicate the one I’m talking about with a chin lift. It’s vague but with our history Blake knows exactly which one I’m pointing at.
The reminder of how well we know each other, how in sync we are—were—is one more slash of the emotional knife to my heart. I should never have left her out of what was happening, should never have cut her from my life no matter how disgusted with myself I was, no matter how much I hated what I’d done.
She would have forgiven me the first mistake, would have helped me find a different way?—
“Do you want to eat inside or out on the deck?”
“Out. We can turn on the heaters to keep us warm.”
I love being outside. The only thing stopping me from moving out there is the wall of windows in the living room. They make it feel like you’re outside when you’re in.
I’ve spent most of my time since I came up here in that room or out on the deck. Driven there when my mind replays the past on a loop in my head.
“Drink?”
“I’m good with water.”
“Not cold?” She sends me a smirk and I’m a little flummoxed as to why until I remember the drenching I received from Oakley James. How I didn’t recognize Blake’s best friend is a mystery. Although I haven’t seen her in years, she was once a regular visitor to the Watts house.
“She’s still a firecracker.”
Blake laughs and I close my eyes, absorbing the sound. “Yeah. Not much has changed with Oakley.”
“What made her decide to go after an NHL franchise?” I ask just as the stew begins to bubble. “Wait, don’t answer that yet. Grab a couple of bowls for me to scoop this into. If you carry the drinks out, I’ll bring the food.”
Again, Blake follows my chin lift in the right direction and finds the bowls instantly. Two appear beside me before she fills glasses with water from the tap and heads for the sliding door to the deck.
It only takes me a few minutes to dish out the stew, grab a couple of spoons, and follow. I take a second to flick the switch to light four of the outdoor heaters Gannon had fitted for his grandmother who loved to sit outside on snowy winter nights. It’s the reason one wall of the living room is all windows too. So she could easily see those nights when going outside was impossible.
Placing one bowl in front of Blake, I take the seat next to her instead of the one across where she set my drink.
I might have put distance between us in recent years but now that she’s here, I can’t keep that up. Can’t deny I want to get as close to her as she’ll let me. I use my spoon to point at her bowl. “Eat, then answer my question about the team.”
She doesn’t object to the command, and that’s how it came out with the way my voice is gravelly from lack of sleep and use—more of the latter. She digs right into the hearty meal and the sound she makes when the first spoonful passes her lips has my body reacting.
It’s a reaction I need to shut down.
I’ve wanted Blake Watts for as long as I’ve known what wanting means,fuck, before I knew what it meant, and yet I never allowed myself to have her. I can’t explain why, all I know is I didn’t want to complicate our friendship—our bond—with sex. Not then.
And look where that got me. Maybe if I had let us get physical, I wouldn’t have found myself in the situation that almost destroyed me.
Fuck. It might still destroy me.
I push my seat back. “We forgot the bread.” I need a moment to get my body and mind under control. I’ve never had an issue doing either before, but I can feel the fine layer of desperation lacing the lust coursing through me and I know I need to get away or I’ll do something stupid.
Like kiss her.
Taking my time—not too much or our food will go cold—I slice four pieces and head back outside.
“Thanks.” She takes a slice and dips it into her bowl before I’ve lowered the plate all the way to the table. After several bites she breaks the rest up and drops it on top of the stew. I have to remind myself to stop watching her and eat my own food.
I’m halfway through my second piece of bread when she breaks the silence.
“Wewent after it.”
“What?”
