The Quarterback's Keeper Book 1 Dual Threat Series

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Growing up, I used to stress eat. My Mama and Blake's Mom are the best cooks. Every time I would get upset, one of them would make me something full of fat, calories and absolutely delicious. They would sit me down with my wonderful snack and talk to me about whatever was bothering me. Unfortunately, most of the time, it was Blake.
Now, I've adjusted the process and cook when I'm stressed. Needless to say, the four people in this apartment are enjoying my stress very much at the moment. Apparently, my stress level is very high. I tend to make everything from scratch, so the sauces are cooking on the cooktop, while I'm rolling out fresh pasta. The dough is rising for fresh rosemary bread. Meatballs are simmering in a big pot. The entire apartment smells like an Italian restaurant.
On top of all that, I have my double fudge brownies in the oven. The kitchen smells heavenly, and I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything all day, but the few bites that I had this morning at breakfast. Seeing Blake again has sent my whole body into a whirlwind, and no matter how good this smells, I won't eat. Not yet.
Just because I cook when I'm stressed doesn't mean I eat it. I might taste as I go, so no one gets poisoned and dies, but I don't eat. Tess and my brother, however, will pig-out. The process of cooking, especially from scratch, relaxes me, just as a yoga session might for Tess. I just don't like to do yoga. It does nothing for me. My mind only runs faster and projects more problems than I already have. By the time I'm done, I'm worse off than I started. So I cook, everyone is better off.
I peek out the window and see the media hasn't moved a muscle. If anything, they've multiplied. I can see some of them talking to someone, I'm not sure who it is, but I'm guessing it's someone who knows us and wants their five minutes of fame. There's always one in the crowd. I just hope it's not someone that knows us too well. I know Lance and I are careful about who we call friends, but we've both dated our share of bad seeds.
Those are the people that are willing to do anything for a chance to get in the spotlight. It comes with the territory of having money and knowing Blake. When we were younger, I know there were some girls who would do whatever they could to date Blake, including take me down a few notches, or out of the picture all together, just to get his attention. It's been done before. It will be done again. High school, and even college, can be cruel. I have no idea what it's like now that Blake is so big in the NFL. I'm not sure I want to.
I know Blake is watching me as much as he's monitoring the internet and the outside crowd. He's been texting to what I assume to be Matt, or the girl he's seeing. He's probably making sure she knows the pictures are nothing, that I mean nothing to him. At least he's better about that now. There was a time when he didn't care if he hurt a girl. She's lucky he's changed. She has nothing to worry about. I'll make sure to tell her if I need to.
Blake is sitting at the table watching me for the last hour. Neither of us have said a word to each other, but so far, it's been sort of comfortable. At least we aren't yelling at each other and throwing things across the room. There was a time when that was the only way we would communicate.
I still don't understand why he kissed me, but then it was just on the side of my head, just like he does to Chelsea. I'm over-analyzing things with him again. I do that too much. Maybe he really is just trying to be nice, something he's never been with me. I'm just not used to that. He has a girlfriend. I know it meant nothing to him. I'm not that important to him. I know that. Why would I mean anything to him after all the hurtful things we said to each other that last time we spoke. We haven't talked in three years. If I meant anything to him, he would have made sure that time never passed. I meant nothing then, and I mean nothing now. She has nothing to worry about from me.
"What are you thinking about?" I question Blake, showing him a smidge of genuine concern. He is just staring down at his phone, his brow drawn together in a deep frown. Something has him perplexed. He looks so worried.
"You and Chelsea." His answer is pretty vague.
I can only imagine what his girlfriend must have said to him. Wondering why he's shacked up with these three college girls that no one knows. She probably thinks we're his groupies. By the way Tess hugs and kisses people, I can see how she'd get that impression.
Lance wants me to fix this. Blake is his best friend, and I've made it uncomfortable for both of them. I know we have to talk about everything. So much has changed since Blake and I talked last, really talked last. His first game, we left things so badly between us. Part of that is on me. Maybe I should try harder to be friends again. I haven't really given him a chance. Obviously, this girl he's with now has really made an impression on him. Maybe she's why he apologized. I sit down slowly next to him and touch his hand. He does look really worried.
"I have to fix this," Blake mutters under his breath, looking down at his phone. Something must be wrong. He frantically starts texting a message out.
I feel responsible. I let things get out of hand too. It's not like Blake hasn't tried to reach out to me. It's not like he hasn't made an effort to clear the air. I'm the one who refused to deal with it. I should at least try to help fix this.
"Blake, I can talk to her. I'll explain it to her. I mean, we grew up together. I'm your best friend's sister. It didn't mean anything." I try to explain how I can help him, but he frowns at me like he's mad or confused. "Blake, she'll understand."
"What are you talking about, Em?" Blake glances at me like we were not talking about the same things before he goes back to his text.
Motioning toward the door, I explain myself. "When you kissed me out there. The picture and those articles about us. You and I know they aren't true. I'm sure she's upset, but we can explain this. I'm not who's important to you, she is. She just needs to know that I'm not important to you."
"Of course, you're important to me. What are you talking about? Who's she?" Blake asks, looking completely confused as he sets his phone down. "Em, you've lost me. Who are you talking about?"
"Your girlfriend," I say slowly. At least, I think that's what I'm talking about. "When Tess asked about your pictures in the magazine this morning, you said you were spoken for. That you have a girlfriend, I'm sure she's not thrilled by this whole media frenzy going on, but we'll talk to her. I'm sure she'll understand."
I watch his face go blank as he stares at me like I have three heads. I'm not sure Blake has a clue what I'm talking about. He has this strange look on his face. I don't know if I should repeat what I said, or wait, or just walk away. I'm getting nothing here.