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Since then, they hadn’t just become friends. They’d become best friends, and he was glad he hadn’t pushed her for a hookup. She was an important part of his life, and their current relationship was perfect.
Blake had just finished plating the food when the door to his apartment opened and Erika walked in. Knocking was a thing of the past for the two of them.
“Smells delicious,” she said, as she placed the two yogurt cups on the counter next to the plates. They each claimed a tall stool, digging into their breakfasts with gusto.
Once they’d eaten, Erika leaned back and sighed contentedly. “That was so good. Thanks, Blake. I was this close,” she pressed her forefinger and thumb together, “to stopping on the way back from my run for a donut.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked. “Next time that urge hits, bring me back a Boston creme.”
She shook her head. “Nope. No point in running if I just shove all the calories I burned right back in.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “More denying yourself happiness.”
He didn’t bother to add that a donut wasn’t going to hurt her. Erika was health-conscious, and there weren’t too many days when she didn’t manage to work in some form of exercise—either in the form of a jog or on the nautilus equipment in their building’s gym. Blake joined her to work out on occasion—more often during the off-season—and she always gave him a run for his money.
“Pizza night here next Monday. You in?” Blake had invited a bunch of his teammates over, and every single one had asked if Erika would be there. The guys were as fond of his neighbor as he was.
For some reason, his apartment had become the “dinner” gathering place, and Erika likened their group to the Big Bang Theory friends, as they avoided sitting around a proper table, opting instead to gather around the coffee table with their plates on their laps.
“Do you even have to ask?”
He frowned when he spied dark circles under her eyes that he hadn’t noticed earlier. “You look tired.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mindy, but I treated two gunshot wounds last night.”
Unfortunately, Erika was no stranger to violence. Baltimore, while not quite the crime capital it had been a decade ago, still saw way too much violence in terms of gang activity.
“Did they make it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but one guy is facing a long road to recovery. I swear I’ll never understand why people feel the need to unalive other people. And it’s always over something stupid.”
Blake felt the same way. “What were these guys fighting about? Drugs or gang pride?”
“Drugs. Lately, it’s always drugs,” she replied, glancing toward his fridge. He kept each month’s game schedule tacked there. “Heading to the West Coast this week, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ll be gone three nights, so pull out your phone, Doc.”
She gave him a curious look but did as he asked. “Why?”
“Because I’m not going to be here to feed you. Pull up the Instacart app.” It wasn’t unusual for them to have dinner, either alone or with some of his teammates, three or four nights a week. During the season, it was less; off-season, it was more.
Usually they did takeout or delivery, but sometimes he cooked. Blake enjoyed cooking, while Erika viewed it with the same disdain some people felt for a trip to the dentist.
She grinned as she clicked on the Instacart app. He leaned close to her, pointing out a few things she should add to her cart. Because Erika wasn’t much of a cook—though that had less to do with skill and more to do with lack of desire—he watched as she added simple fare, like cans of soup and premade salads.
“Get a loaf of bread, some cheese, and turkey too,” he suggested. “Sandwiches are easy to make. You can take them to work. I’m sure they’re probably healthier than anything you’re getting out of that vending machine.”
She nodded, adding the items to her cart. “That’s a good idea.”
Even though she was agreeing, Blake was eighty percent positive the meat would go bad before she ever remembered to make a sandwich. Erika was a total enigma. The woman was incredibly intelligent and extremely empathetic. He didn’t doubt for a second that she had a great bedside manner. However, her ability to take care of others didn’t translate when it came to taking care of herself, which was why Blake found himself in the position of reminding her to eat more often than not.
“Okay,” he said, once he was satisfied she’d added enough food to her cart to get her through the next few days. “Now, check out.”
It seemed like a no-brainer, but he’d helped her build carts before only to discover she’d never placed the damn order.
She snickered, then checked out, flashing the screen when she was finished to show him she’d done as he asked. “Happy?”
He nodded. “Yep. But I’d be even happier if you remembered to eat the food without me here to tell you.”
