Page 66 of Because of Blake
She gives in and rolls her eyes so hard I’m afraid they’ll get stuck.
“I won’t be too late. Probably around ten, or so. You can let Dylan play video games the whole time if you want. Call if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay,” she says in her snottiest tone.
“Love you, sweetheart.” I kiss her on the head.
“Love you too, Mom.”
The nerves chewing on my stomach as I walk to Blake’s house negate the hunger I felt not ten minutes ago. I promised Blake I wouldn’t eat after lunch so I’d be hungry, and until now, I’ve been starving. I know my children are responsible. I know they’re safe. I know they’re only four houses away, but I always feel nervous about leaving them. Accidents happen.
I take the longest, deepest breath imaginable before ringing the doorbell. I have to settle my stomach. If I don’t eat whatever Blake has for me, I’ll never hear the end of it. From myself, not him. He’s much too gracious to rub my face in anything.
The door opens, revealing Blake wearing a chef’s hat, a white apron, and seemingly nothing else.
“Good evening, miss,” he says with a smirk. “Your table is ready.”
The tension eases from my shoulders, and I giggle as I step inside. “Are you… naked under there?” I pinch at the edge of the apron.
He swats my hand away. “Ah ah. No dessert before dinner.”
“Okay, fine.” I put my hands up in defeat.
When Blake’s hand brushes the small of my back, the nervousness in my gut dissolves. As we enter the kitchen, I inhale the heavenly aroma of whatever he’s cooking, and I’m suddenly starving again.
“I hope you’re hungry.” He pulls a dish from the oven, plates the food, pours a glass of wine, and sets both in front of me. “Bon appetit.”
“Looks good. Smells great. What is it?”
“Well,” he says, but starts laughing. “It was supposed to be homemade eggplant parmesan, but I fucked it up. So, this is eggplant parm from Luigi’s. Hope you don’t mind.”
I take a bite, the familiar, but delicious flavor hitting my tongue, and I savor it a moment. “I don’t mind at all. Honestly, I’m here for the view.” I lift my wineglass to my lips, eyeballing him over the rim.
He lifts his glass and asks, “The kids okay?”
I almost choke on my drink, but I compose myself. “They’re fine.” My confident tone is more for me than him, but I’m sure I’m the only one doubting it.
“Well, it’s only a couple hours. No big deal, right?”
My fingers wrap around the stem of my wine glass, clenching so my nails dig into my palm. There are so many things that could happen in only a few hours. Each one makes my heart rate climb. I shut my eyes, breathing deep, though it’s shaky.
“Maggie? What’s wrong?”
Not now. Not here. I need to calm down.
I open my eyes, not looking at Blake right away as my gaze darts around the room, searching for five things I can see. I can’t find any. My focus is blurred, foggy, like I’m in a cloud. With my grounding technique off to a horrible start, I shut my eyes again and there isn’t enough air to fill my lungs.
“Maggie, what’s going on?” The sound of Blake’s chair scooting on the floor hits my ears. Then, I feel him turn my chair. “What’s the matter?”
“I… I can’t… focus. The kids...” It all comes out in broken syllables.
“Shit. What do you need?”
“Five… five things I can see...”
“Maggie, open your eyes.” It’s an order, not a request.
I do as I’m told, and open my eyes to find Blake kneeling before me, his face directly in front of mine. My focus steadies a bit, but he’s still blurred. All I can make out are his dark eyes under that chef’s hat and his facial hair.