Playing The player

Chapter 31

  It was a lot easier saying that I wanted to talk than actually talking.

  I had no idea what to say to Blake. Before, I had it all planned out; I would tell him that I was sorry, that I really, really, really liked him, and that I wanted to be with me. But suddenly a realisation dawned on me - what if he didn't like me anymore? It had only been a few days, but it wasn't like he had a sparkly clean reputation. I didn't know to accept rejection; not that I was good at accepting anything. Humiliation coated me every time I remembered how I had handled the situation when Blake told me he liked me. It wasn't very smooth, to say the least.

  "Um," I started, rubbing my hand against my arm, "So, thanks. About Dylan. It was like the second time. Crazy right?" I let out a little half laugh, trying to lighten up the mood. Tension was so thick I probably could make a clean cut through it with a knife. We were seated on the benches in the deserted courtyard area, and since Dylan and left pretty quickly, we were alone. It was the chance I had wanted to talk to him, except… well, nothing.

  He shrugged. "It had to be done."

  What was I meant to say now? I was sorely tempted to make a remark on the weather like he had done before, but I didn't feel as though it was the right thing to do. I felt so, so awkward. All I wanted to do was for him to hold me, but how was I meant to say tell him that?

  Hey Blake, can you hold me for a second?

  Yeah, okay, no.

  I stared down at my shoes. How cliché -- I was almost annoyed at myself, for being so cowardly. I was definitely not the girl with the biggest balls out there, but I definitely wasn't the shyest. Maybe the second shyest. Or the third. But by no way the first!

  I took a deep breath, and looked up. Blake wasn't looking at me, his face cast to the side, so I couldn't see his expression, and I didn't like that. I liked, and as creepy and weird as it sounded, looking at his face, and I liked him looking at me, as creepy and weird as it sounded. I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me. His expression was surprised, but he didn't cringe at my touch, which was a start.

  "You're my hero," I whispered.

  His eyes met mine with a burning sort of passion. Cliché and overused as it sounded, I knew in that moment that I wanted to be with him, for however long he wanted to be with me. He analysed my eyes, as though determining whether or not I was lying. I stared back, not giving up, because I knew that I didn’t want to let things go. But minutes past, and I started panicking. What if he didn't like me anymore? I didn't know what I would do. Use my age against me, tell me I was only seventeen, but the feelings I had for Blake, the love I had for him felt like the real thing. The sort of love that was written in books, the sort of love that everyone wanted but could never have.

  "I'm sorry I flipped out the first time," I had verbal diarrhoea against -- I couldn't stop talking, even though my brain was ordering me to stop. My mouth had a life of it's own. "I was panicking, and I had no idea what to do or say, I wanted to tell you how I felt but how could I when I thought what you had said was just a phase? I thought it might've been part of the stupid game and," I started tearing up, the hand that was on Blake's face dropping down to my side as I lowered my face, "and, I don't want to get played, I don't want to be part of a game that's might hurt me or you and I know that's no excuse but the truth is that I had no fucking -- "

  Blake pressed his finger against my lips, silencing me immediately. His head was cocked to the side in almost fascination. "You just swore."

  My hand flew up to my mouth, a gasp escaping me as I realised what I had said. Panic took over my nerves again, and my heartbeat sped up.

  To my surprise, Blake smiled -- a real genuine smile, and it looked damn good on him. "You like me?"

  I nodded slowly. "A lot. More than a lot. So much. So much more than a lot. Like a lot plus --"

  It turned out that was a cure to verbal diarrhoea. It was painless, effective, and a nice sensation that spread across your body like wildfire, only soft. It did, however, put all your sense on alert. Side effects included heightened hormones, a rush of blood to your head, and giddiness.

  The cure?

  Kissing.

*******

Walking home, hand in hand with Blake was something I loved to do.

  Our hands fit perfectly, swinging in the air, and the smile on my face was giddy with excitement as I sneaked a peek at Blake's face. His expression was the face for peace, for happiness, and it reflected mine. I leaned into him slightly, and he pressed me closer to his body as though he couldn't get enough.

  "So we're like, together now right?" I mused out loud.

  Blake gave me a look, but his eyes were filled with adoration. "Do you even need to ask?"

  I smiled brightly. "I just think we should do it properly. I mean technically, you haven't even asked me to be your girlfriend, which means we’re not actually going out."

  Blake groaned. "Do we really have to do this?"

  I gave him a look.

  He got down on one knee and I mock gasped, pretending that he was asking me to marry him. "Hayleigh Grace," He said in a rough voice, "Will you do me the honour of being my official girlfriend?"

  I nodded happily, my grin spreading over my face. "Yes, Blake, yes!" I mock-sang. "You have made me the happiest woman on this earth!"

  He laughed and stood up, bending down and pressing his lips against mine. My lips curved up as he tried to deepen the kiss, and tilted my head to the side so he ended up kissing my neck. I smiled mischievously. "You'll have to work for it, Mr Carter."

  He buried his head in my neck, his arms wounding their way around my waist, pressing me closer. "God I love you," He murmured against my neck.

  I froze.

  He seemed to realise what he said at the same time I did, and immediately, he pulled back. "I'm sorry - ," He muttered, looking away, "I didn't mean - "

  "You didn't mean it?" I asked, trying to keep the hurt away from my voice. "You regret saying that?"

  "No!" He looked at me, the hurt clear on his face, "I just didn't - "

  I tried to get out of his grip. "Whatever. It doesn't matter, Blake. I just want to get home."

  "No." He held me tighter, and it was impossible for me to move even an inch. "I meant it. I love you, Hayleigh. I just don't want you to feel as though you have to say it back to me if you don't feel the same. It feels like - "

  I planted my lips on him. Hmm, the kissing technique to get people to shut up really did work. "I love you, Blake Carter," I whispered, pulling his head down so I could rest my forehead against his.

  "I love you too," Blake murmured, pressing his lips against mine again. It was a perfect, cliché, but perfect moment.

  Walking home, hand in hand with Blake after telling him I loved him and having him say it back was something I loved to do.

  I didn't want it to end, but my house soon came into view, and truthfully, I couldn't wait to get inside. I pulled Blake by his neck and kissed him ferociously as I unlocked the door. I felt his lips curve up at my eagerness.

  "Nina's not home, so it's only you and me," I whispered breathlessly as I pulled him into the foyer.

  "Oh really?" Blake smirked, pulling me closer.

  "Mhm, she's at cheerleader practise," I said eagerly, as I jumped into his arms. He carried me passed the kitchen, not sparing it a second glance, but I saw something that was scarier than anything else that could've been there. I forced Blake to slide me down, ignoring his questioning as I walked back to the kitchen and faced the people there. Familiar green eyes and blonde hair greeted me.

  "Mum… Dad… " I said breathlessly