Until You (Until #1)

by Briar Prescott

Blake looks at me almost pleadingly. “We already covered that I was exceptionally dumb when I was younger.” “You’re a weird nerd,” I say.

I like you, so for once in my life, I’m going to be responsible.

“I should warn you I have this thing where I have no idea what to say to people when they divulge deeply personal information, so I’ll make a joke or say something stupid,” I say. “I’m aware.” “Not even a sleepover as a kid? Or sharing a tent on a hike?” I ask. “Not even that.” “Seems I got to be your first, then. I hope I was gentle. Ah, see? Stupid joke. Right on schedule.”

It’s the but kind of morning. You know the one. I slept for eight hours, but it feels like two. I ran for a mile, but it feels like ten. The man is forty, but he acts like he’s twelve. When I wake up, Blake is wrapped around me again, but… I still don’t hate it. The but kind of morning.

“I mean, I like him. I… want to spend time with him,” I say in a whisper that quite efficiently conveys my panic at that development. “All the time.” “Oh, that’s bad,” Steph breathes with fascinated horror.

“I never said I didn’t want you.” I turn around slowly. “I said I couldn’t sleep with you,” he says. “Semantics,” I snap. “An important distinction.” I roll my eyes. “Sure. Thanks for the English lesson.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Blake says, lips moving against mine. “Tell me to stop.” I let out a harsh laugh. “Fuck that. Finish what you’ve started.”

“Look, we fucked. And now it’s done. Curiosity satisfied. Let’s move the fuck on.” Instead of getting out or being offended or any other normal reaction, Blake just laughs. “No,” he says like any of this is up for debate.

“Was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.” “The only reason I’m here is because I plan to come. Will you get undressed now?” He gets up and puts the book away, but instead of taking his clothes off, he walks past me. “Where are you going?” I ask his back. “Dinner. I’m starving,” he throws over his shoulder. “How does pasta sound?” “I’m not here to eat!” I call after him. “Tough shit,” he replies.

“You’re too hot for your own good,” I say. He lets out a breathy laugh at that and quirks his brow. “What are you gonna do about it?” “Blow you. Thoughts?” His tongue peeks out and licks over his lips. “In favor.

“What were you doing?” I ask. “Rearranging the furniture for better sex feng shui?” “I hid your shoes,” he says and starts to kiss me, but I rear back. “What the fuck?” “I hid your shoes,” he repeats patiently and tries to kiss me again. “Why?” “If you don’t have your shoes, you can’t run out on me in the middle of the night,” he says.

“What are you gonna do to me?” he asks. “Whatever I want. You’re mine.” “Yes. I’m yours,” he breathes out. I shouldn’t like it this much.

“Stay?” he whispers into my skin. “You stole my shoes. I kind of have to stay, don’t I?” I glance at him, gaze catching his. “Stay because you want to,” he says softly. In the end, the decision isn’t that difficult. “I’ll stay.”

“Want me to put my pretty cock inside you? I could be persuaded.”

“Don’t laugh, you ass. You know I don’t do emotions well. I Googled how to say I love you before I said it to Nora. In the end I wrote her one of those stupid poems where the first letters of each line make up the phrase ‘I love you.’” Something about that makes her perk up. “Should I do one for you? Nora seemed to like hers, so I can basically just insert your name in there and presto, a love declaration.”

“I’m going to dump you?” I ask slowly. “Yes! You do that. You push people away, and so far I haven’t let you, but now with Hazel, what if I won’t have the time to force you to be in my life? Babies take a lot of time. What if now it’s my time to become one of the casualties? You’re like my brother, and I love you, but you can be such a callous asshole when you cut people out of your life, so what if you start to distance yourself from us, and I don’t notice until it’s too late?”

A hot flash of shame goes through me like a lightning bolt. What kind of a fucking person am I? Apparently the kind whose best friend seems to think I can just drop her without a second thought and go on my merry way. Guilt digs its claws even deeper when I’m forced to admit to myself that I can’t exactly be indignant about Blair feeling this way. She’s witnessed all my lowest moments. With my parents. My biological mother. Friends. Potential friends.

I look down at Hazel. “Don’t listen to your mommy. I’m awesome. You’ll see. And I promise, I’ll look after you until the day I die.” And Blair is crying again, but then she leans her head on my shoulder, and I lean my cheek on the top of her head, and… it feels pretty damn nice.

But instead of ravenous and wild, his mouth is slow and gentle, lazily exploring, and for some reason it makes me oddly apprehensive because of how terrifyingly vulnerable I feel. Like a layer of skin has been scraped off, and everyone who looks can see everything.

“Less talk, more dick,” I say, true to form.

“Blake?” I murmur softly. “Hmm?” he mumbles against my neck. “Remember how you said you weren’t really the dating type?” He lifts his head and studies me curiously before he nods. “Well, I was wondering,” I say. “If, maybe… you’d make an exception for me?”

I scrunch my hot dog wrapper into a ball and throw it in the trash can while Blake launches into a rant about online privacy and all the ways it’s lacking. I’ve been on the receiving end of a fair few of those lectures by now. I’ve also started a fair few of those lectures. Because it turns me the fuck on when he gets going. Sometimes I mention downloading one of the apps that are known to leak your data like a broken faucet just to watch his head nearly explode. It always ends up in the most awesome sex once I’ve generously let him convince me to abandon that plan.

You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting for you. Just you. Nobody else fits, but you do.

About how much I like the way he says “hi” to me in his gravelly morning voice when he opens his eyes and how I live for the sleepy smile that always goes with that greeting.

I’d like to think you’re going to be a good role model for our daughter.” Blair glowers at her, but then she blows out a breath. “Yeah, okay.” Nora looks surprised for a second before she perks up. “Wait. That actually worked?” “Yes. But you’re only allowed to use it twice a year.” “Deal,” Nora says quickly like she’s afraid Blair might change her mind.

“You just agreed to come with me, even though you don’t even know what this is about?” “Yeah.” He meets my gaze and sends me a small smile. “You’ll be there.” “I’ll also be there if it turns out I’m inviting you to a cannibal convention.” He stops and widens his eyes. “Hold the phone. You’re telling me you got tickets to Peeps for Meats? Being in this relationship has finally paid off!” “Is that a real thing? Because if it’s not, it’s disturbing how quickly you came up with that name.”

And I don’t expect him to look at me and feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest when he says, “I like us.” “Yeah,” I say with a nod. “I like us, too.”

“Are you almost done?” I press the phone between my shoulder and ear and nod. “Are you nodding?” Blake asks with a laugh. “I am. Because who needs words when you can read me like a book anyway?”

He walks straight into me, not even slowing down, just colliding with me, toes against toes, chest against chest, lips against lips.

“And when we’re arrested, then what?” “Then we can relive these beautiful moments in our jail cell.” “Our jail cell. You’re mighty optimistic.”

We both flop onto our backs. “Fuck. Me,” he says weakly. “Not tonight, honey. I’m tired.”

I’m starting to think my love language does not come in the form of beautiful words and candlelit dinners but well-placed sarcastic remarks and exasperation. Blake has clearly mastered both.

You know, this could happen to you too, so I wouldn’t be so smug about it.” I shrug. “I only sleep with one person, and honestly, I don’t think he’d mind the love declarations.” Steph’s brows rise to his hairline. “Would you?” he asks.

Steph purses his lips and studies me like I’m a fascinating science experiment gone wrong.

I am a stupid fucking asshole. He almost smiles at that. “That was an accident. You were the fifth person I’d had to send away from that roof that evening. It gets old fast.” “So when you closed the door?” I ask. “I knew we’d be locked out.”

The only things I lied about were Sarah and all the social engineering that was involved in meeting you.” “Social engineering,” I say slowly. “What a nice way to put it.” “People hacking is a part of my job,” he says quietly. “I trick and manipulate people into doing things they shouldn’t to discover weaknesses in the system.”

He walks out. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. And look at that. Now he’s made me into a liar, too.

He made me love him. He turned himself into my home. Now he’s gone. And I’m homeless. But life doesn’t stop for a broken heart. So somehow, I keep going.

I toe off my shoes and go in search of Hazel. Out of all the people in the world, she’s my absolute favorite. There’s no contest. There’s a chance that without her I might’ve done something dumb like bail. Again. Like I do. But I made a promise to her in that hospital room, and I intend to keep it. People are assholes. It’s something Hazel will find out eventually, whether I like it or not. But I’m really not keen on teaching her that lesson by making myself an example.

You should be annoyed. You should be all sarcastic and insufferable and you’re supposed to give me so much shit for this. So, I repeat, what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Well, jeez. Sorry for trying to be a nice person. Fine. Yes, my night is ruined. I’m so lucky to have such a thoughtless person in my life.” She rolls her eyes. “Pathetic. It’s like your heart isn’t even in it.”

She opens the door and pushes me inside, where a very tall dude hands us boiler suits, safety goggles, and hard hats. I look at Blair. “If this is some weird sex thing, I’m not interested.” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, no. And after all the trouble I went through to find you a dominatrix.”

“Seriously, what do you want?” I ask once I’ve gathered myself a bit. He tilts his head to the side and lets his eyes wander over me—up, down, and back up until he meets my gaze again. “You,” he says simply. “Just you. All of you. Forever.” I ignore the way my stomach somersaults at those words. “You can’t be serious.” “I’m very serious.”

I turn on the TV to stop this damn self-sabotage. I watch ten episodes of How It’s Made and, gun to my head, I can’t recall a single thing that was made on that show.

How do I stop missing somebody who’s parked right outside my door every day?

Blake is here again. Sopping wet, but his smile is as bright as ever. “You’re gonna get pneumonia,” I say. “Rain doesn’t cause pneumonia. That’s old wives’ tale.”

“Can’t I?” he asks. “No,” I snap. “Guess we’ll see about that one,” he says lightly.

Fuck him. I used to be fine. And what am I now? Unhappy. That’s the word that nicely summarizes everything I am. I’m unhappy. And lonely. And sad. And pathetic. And my life? Turns out my life—the life I was so completely fine with—is also sad, and lonely, and pathetic. And I wouldn’t fucking know that if it weren’t for him!

“Stop scowling,” Steph chides. “I’m not.” “Please. Even the bartender’s avoiding our corner. How exactly are you planning to find a rebound if you look like you’re contemplating murder?” I give him an exaggerated, toothy grin. “Better?” “Somehow even creepier.”

“I hate it when you make sense.” “Believe me, I’m not enjoying it that much either.”

I know what he’s thinking. I’d be an idiot not to. I also realize that if I want to really hurt him back, this is the way to do it. I’d like to say I’m a decent person. I’d like to say I’m not vindictive. I’d like to say I’m not cruel. But I’d be lying.