"Nope, we are docked until morning. I created some time, plus it'll be much more scenic in the daylight. You'll enjoy it, promise." He plops down in the chair next to me.
"I wish I would've known we were spending the night so I could've grabbed my toothbrush!" I shoot him an innocent grin showing him my white teeth.
"You are in luck, Blake. I have a pack under the sink, in case I ever forget mine." He leans over and plants the softest, sweetest kiss on my lips and pulls away.
Only one man has ever called me Blake before, my dad, and the way he says it sends flutters down in my stomach. I am so mesmerized by this guy I have yet to do my usual brake-slam. I don't do relationships. I don't let anyone get too close, I don't have many friends, and I have serious commitment issues.
Hello! Runaway Bride here!
Of course, now looking back, Dakota just wasn't the right fit, sadly it took my dad's death as my wake up call to leave the church. Life is just a vapor. We are here for one minute, and then the next, we can be gone. No warnings, no "Hey, do you wanna come with me." No, anything, just gone.
"You okay?" he asks, waving his hand in front of my face.
"Yeah, sorry. What did you say?" I snap out of my thoughts.
"I'm gonna slip into something more comfortable. You want one of my t-shirts?"
"Yeah, thanks." I look down at my dress. I can't sleep in this. Not comfortably anyway. Good choice.
He rummages through his backpack and sets a t-shirt on the bed. I lift my hair to try to reach the top of my zipper. My hair is stuck. Of course, it is. No matter how many times I brush it, there will always be tangles underneath.
"Could you maybe help me get my hair untangled? It's stuck in my zipper."
He stops looking through his backpack and makes his way over toward me. I turn into him and can feel his body against mine. He attempts lifting all of my hair to get to my zipper. It takes him all of five seconds to get it untangled and tugs down my zipper. The touch of his hand sends fire all over me.What the hell? It is just a zipper! Get a grip, Blakely!
He turns me back around, and the way he looks at me makes me want to tackle him right then and there. My self-control is pretty impressive at the moment, and I can refrain.
"Turn around," I demand as I grab the T-shirt off the bed.
"Are you serious?" He asks, laughing.
"Dead." He rolls his eyes as he holds his hands up in surrender, turning around.
CHAPTER 11
JUDSON
"Are you about done?" I groan. Is she for real right now?
"Yeah, sorry, I forgot to tell you you could turn around." She laughs.
"You are ridicul-" I turn, stopping mid-sentence. My brain is not communicating appropriately with my mouth to make words come out. My eyes are wandering from her face to her perfect tan legs in my shirt. It looks more like a dress on her tiny little body. I don't think I have ever thought barefoot, and a glass of wine was this sexy.
"What's wrong?" She eyes me with terror written all over her face. Damn this girl; she is perfect. She is the epitome of "She doesn't know she's beautiful."
Can she not see what she does to me?
"There is absolutely nothing wrong. You look like a goddess in that shirt." Pretty sure my eyes are popping out of my head. I can't take them off of her.
The way her face turns red as she looks down at her naked legs and feet is the cutest thing.
"I like the Preds, so the shirt is fitting." She smiles.
"Really? I have season tickets. I try to go to a few games a year. We should go some time."
She smirks and plops down in the chair.
"What?" I ask her. "You don't want to go?"