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Preston gave him a questioning look.
“Go ahead,” Blake said. “I’m fine.”
Preston rose, grabbing his beer to join the other conversation.
Blake took another swig of beer then winced. He’d been sitting here with his head up his ass for so long that the beer had gone warm. Putting it back down on the table, he tried to figure out when things had changed between him and Erika. Because, despite his teammates’ assertions, she hadn’t always been his girlfriend.
Sifting through the past three years, he had to admit that once she’d shot his flirting down, insisting they weren’t going to be anything more than friends, the friendship blossomed fast. While he would concede to the idea that she was his girlfriend now in almost every way, Blake didn’t think that was true the first year they’d been neighbors.
Nope, the tide had turned somewhere in these past couple of years, as they’d grown closer. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly when. Maybe there wasn’t an exact day and time, but his friends were right. He’d unwittingly put her in the role of his girlfriend, leaning on her when he needed bolstering, seeking her out when he needed advice or an opinion, taking care of her when she forgot to feed herself.
He grinned slightly when he realized Victor calling Erika his girlfriend hadn’t bugged him at all. He’d always proclaimed loudly—and to anyone who would listen—that he was happy with his footloose and fancy-free lifestyle. Now, he could see his happiness wasn’t driven by the fact he was single.
Nope.
He was happy because he already had Erika in his life. She was the first person he thought of when he opened his eyes and the last one he thought of before falling asleep. And he was ashamed to admit that was true even on nights when he wasn’t alone…because somewhere along the line, he’d started comparing the women he slept with to his neighbor as well. He was certain that was why his attraction to Mindy had waned. She simply couldn’t hold a candle to Erika.
“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing his head back. None of these revelations were helping improve his mood. If anything, he was in worse shape now than when he’d walked into Pat’s Pub. Because admitting his feelings to himself—even though it had taken him too damn long—was the easy part.
Erika was going to be much harder to convince. For that laundry list of reasons she constantly threw out at him. She wasn’t willing to risk their friendship on what she assumed would be a roll in the hay. And why wouldn’t she assume that was all it would be? His track record had been on display for three full years, proving that when it came to serious relationships, he meant what he said about being disinterested.
How could he convince her that she was the exception?
And even if he did, had he waited too long? She was on date number seven with Doug, and after the way she so easily pushed Blake away after the fundraiser, he feared that meant she really was serious about the other man, ready to take the next step in their relationship.
He looked at the clock on his phone. It was close to midnight. Which meant, chances were good her date was over.
Or…it had gone into overtime.
In her bedroom.
The thought of Doug touching and kissing his girl had Blake seeing red, irritating him enough that he considered driving home and banging on her door to interrupt anything that might be happening.
Yeah. That would go over like a lead balloon.
Regardless, he rose, struggling to hold back his inner caveman. The one beating his chest and itching for a fight.
Before he could act on that thought, two things happened simultaneously. His phone rang, and Mindy spotted him, aware he was about to make his escape.
Blake answered the phone the second he saw Erika’s name on the screen.
“Erik,” he said.
Unfortunately, at the same time, Mindy rushed over. “Blake!” she squealed. “It’s time to celebrate!”
“Blake,” Erika said.
He knew in an instant something was wrong.
* * *
Erika stood by a tree, desperately fighting back tears as she watched Corky do her business. Tonight had been a clusterfuck from the word go, and now things had gone from bad to worse.
Her date with Doug had been fine—another word as boring as nice—and for a little while, she’d debated if she was being unfair, assuming sex with Doug would be uneventful without giving him a chance to prove her wrong. Maybe the sparks that weren’t coming with his kisses would appear in the bedroom.
Sure, Blake practically set her hair on fire with just a touch, but was it fair to compare Blake—a freaking sex god—to a mere mortal?
And while she hadn’t had actual sex with Blake, he’d already proven himself to be the best she’d ever had.
