Page 48 of Not Just Gal Pals

“Do you need a lift?” Blake asked as she picked up her artwork from the easel.

It sounded like Blake’s offer was to drive me back to my parents’ house, not hers. My chest tightened. Was she having second thoughts about us? She might just be tired, or not be feeling one hundred percent. Don’t overthink it. But it was hard not to overthink it when you were so used to rejection. You began anticipating it.

I realized Blake was staring at me, and I still hadn’t answered her question.

“That would be great, thanks.” I had to get home somehow, and a ride was more appealing than stumbling home in the cold, dark night.

As Blake drove through the side streets to my parents’ house, she asked, “So, what are you going to do with your painting, if you’re not going to hang it up at home?”

“Well, since it’s a surrealistic masterpiece, I think it deserves to be displayed publicly so it can be enjoyed by the masses. Perhaps at your clinic? If not that, I’ll approach MOMA and Dia Beacon, and see if they are interested.”

Blake snorted. “I’m flattered you thought of me first. But while I’ve been meaning to decorate the clinic—and my house, for that matter—I’m not sure your, um, masterpiece is quite the look I’m going for. Patients want a calming, soothing environment. Maybe some watercolor landscapes or cheerful geometric paintings? Not the stuff of nightmares.”

“Fine.” I huffed. “It’s your loss, though.”

We joked the rest of the way home, me proposing horrific paintings I could create for Blake’s clinic and Blake rejecting them all emphatically.

As Blake pulled up outside my parents’ house and turned off the engine, nervous anticipation began to build inside me, giving me the same jittery sensation I experienced when I drank too much coffee.

I took a deep breath and turned to her. “Thanks for suggesting this. I had a really great time. Would you...would you like to come in?” My desires and impatience overpowered my discomfort at the prospect of another Walter sex-police incident and potentially sleeping with Blake with my parents down the hallway.

Blake paused, and that jittery sensation skyrocketed while I waited for her response. “I’d better not, sorry. My first appointment is at eight tomorrow.”

A surge of disappointment washed over me. In the dark, I couldn’t make out Blake’s facial expression. Was that just an excuse?

“Of course, no problem.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and was about to open the car door when Blake leaned forward and put a hand on my thigh, sending my nerve endings tingling and the disappointment tumbling away.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft and low. “Would you like—”

She didn’t need to finish. I shifted my body to face her. Before I knew it, we were kissing like we were back on the couch. I couldn’t get enough of her mouth, teasing her lower lip with my teeth, stroking her tongue with mine. I wanted to get closer, to feel the pressure of her body against me, to explore her body with my hands, but the damn center console of the car was between us.

“Beeeeeeeep!” We both jumped. Blake’s arm or some other body part must have hit the car horn. A light switched on in my parents’ house. Shit.

“Oops. I should probably go before they come out here in their pajamas to see what’s going on!” It wasn’t like it was a big deal if my parents caught us kissing, I was an adult, for god’s sake, but I felt bad about disturbing them. And I was also getting incredibly turned on making out with Blake, which was only going to make me more frustrated when she drove off alone in a few minutes.

“Okay,” Blake muttered, pulling me back for one final kiss.

“Remember to get your painting out of the trunk,” Blake called with a little too much desperation in her voice. I stumbled out of the car, smiling at her words, our kiss still reverberating through my body.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BLAKE

“We’re having a very arty week. First paint and sip, and now this!” Jenny gestured at the massive steel sculpture six times her height, which appeared to be defying gravity by balancing precariously in the middle of a grassy field in the sculpture park. “We may need to balance it out by watching some trashy holiday rom-coms.”

I chuckled. “Isn’t it a bit early for holiday rom-coms? It’s only November.”

Jenny assumed a mock horrified face, her eyes wide and mouth gaping. “It’s never too early for cheesy, so-bad-they’re-good, holiday rom-coms. But if you don’t want to snuggle up on the couch with me and watch some, I’m sure Walter will happily oblige.” She looked down at Walter with a smile, who was furiously sniffing the base of the sculpture.

I wanted nothing more than to cozy up on the couch with Jenny. My plan to take things slow hadn’t exactly been satisfying, and my resolve to move slowly was wavering. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a stupid idea. This was meant to be a casual relationship, which meant it was all about sex, right? Casual relationships weren’t for taking things slow. So what the hell was I waiting for?

“Poor Walter. First, he’s traumatized by seeing his mom being mauled by a strange woman on the couch, and now he’s being subjected to holiday rom-coms in November. The little guy’s been through a lot already. I think I’ll have to take one for the team here and offer myself up in sacrifice.”

“I promise you won’t regret it,” Jenny said teasingly. A buzz of anticipation vibrated low in my belly.

Jenny’s smile faded. “Would you mind re-assuming your role as my official photographer while we’re here? I’m woefully behind on my social media posts. I’ve been really lacking in motivation, especially when I’ve got more exciting things to do, like…” She looked at me, and her voice trailed off. She bit her lip, and a shot of electricity ran down my spine. “Like your fundraising event.” Yes, of course, the fundraising event.

Jenny had, much to my amazement, already written a proposal for a Sapphire Springs health fund. We’d reviewed it over lunch at Novel Gossip on Wednesday, and then she’d somehow managed to present it at the monthly village board meeting on Thursday night. The board had thought it was a great idea, and provided Jenny could raise enough money, they’d given it a green light. Everything was moving incredibly fast. The least I could do was flex my photography skills.