Page 64 of Not Just Gal Pals

I woke before Blake and spent a couple of minutes staring at her, admiring her long, dark eyelashes, the curve of her lips, her strong nose, the smattering of silver threads in her hair. I was definitely being creepy, but when Blake was awake, I didn’t have the opportunity to openly ogle at her for this length of time, so I took full advantage of it.

I tried to ignore the pressure from my bladder. I didn’t want to move. But my bladder called with increasing urgency. I forced my eyes away from the sleeping beauty next to me, disentangled myself from the warm duvet, and got out of bed, grabbing Blake’s robe on the way.

Once I’d peed, caffeine was my next priority. I made a pot of French press coffee, carrying it back to Blake’s room along with two mugs. Discarding the robe, I poured myself a mug of coffee and carefully climbed back in bed, sitting against the headboard. I pulled out my phone and began my usual morning routine of checking my emails and social media accounts.

The warm, fuzzy feelings vanished as soon as I opened my emails.

My phone bill was overdue.

Walter’s pet insurance premium was due this week.

And the premium for my health insurance was due next week.

Shit.

I logged into my bank account to check exactly what the situation was.

My stomach dropped.

There was enough to cover my phone bill, Walter’s insurance, and approximately two more brunches at Novel Gossip, but after that, I would need to start putting everything on my credit card.

I shut my eyes, took a long sip of coffee, and then let out a breath.

Get it together, Jenny.

Instead of stressing out or begging George for work, I just needed to focus on my current job. After the fundraiser was over tomorrow night, I’d make a real effort to increase my posts and chase more likes and followers. As unenthused as I currently was about content creating, it was my job, and I had to apply myself before I fell into a sea of debt.

The duvet covering my legs moved, and I looked down to see Blake staring up at me, bleary-eyed and smiling.

“Morning, gorgeous,” she said, her voice husky. “Is everything okay?”

I smiled back at her. After the amazing day we’d shared yesterday, I didn’t want to ruin things by telling Blake I was almost broke. “Everything is more than fine now you’re awake. Do you want coffee?” I nodded over to the press and mug on the side table.

Blake propped herself up on her elbow. “What I really want right now is a kiss.”

I laughed, putting my phone down. Content creating and worrying about money troubles could be put on hold for a little longer. I slid down so I was propped up on my elbow as well, gazing into Blake’s eyes, only inches away from her face. “Is that all you want…?”

Blake’s smile widened. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said as she pulled me toward her.

* * *

I’d sent Blake off to work and was walking home so I could finish up the fundraiser preparation when my phone rang. Serena.

Why would she be calling? If it’s to chastise me for not posting enough, at least I’ll be able to tell her I’m planning to do more.

“Jenny!” Serena sounded upbeat—excited, even—and some of the tension in my shoulders dissipated.

“Hi, how are you doing?”

“Good, good. Look, I’ve got some great news for you. Mahler is looking for a new brand ambassador for their Pilates line. Someone relatable, not one of those super-fit women with abs and a thigh gap. They want you!”

“Oh, wow! That’s incredible.” I stopped, dizzy at the news, and ignored Serena’s backhanded compliment. Mahler was one of the most popular new activewear brands on the market. They would almost certainly fix my financial problems, and then some. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind that I may have gotten a bit more “relatable” since I’ve been back home. Despite Blake’s cooking and our new jogging routine, my abs, if they existed, were definitely in no danger of being revealed anytime soon.

“There’s one catch. They want you back here tomorrow for a photoshoot. The other brand ambassador they had lined up had a surfing accident yesterday, so they need you to step in.”

My stomach dropped. The fundraiser. Shit.

I groaned. “They’re doing it over Thanksgiving weekend?”