Accidentally Amy

by Lynn Painter

“You’re a damn hero, Mr. Chest. Now say my name.” He started laughing while gasping, still face down, and groaned Izzy! at the top of his lungs. She smiled and nodded. “That’s right, baby. You say it.”

But as he watched her walking in his direction, he felt them again. Fucking butterflies. What in the hell was with that?

“You have my word, Iz,” he said, gravely serious, “that no matter how alone we are, I will always behave as if we’re standing in front of the board of directors.” “Oh.” Always. “That makes me feel so much better. Thank you.”

“Oh, my God, you have a dad? I assumed you were scientifically-engineered in a lab.” “Cute.”

I’ll do it, but I’m very afraid of falling in love with your cats. It took a few minutes for Blake to respond, and his words did something to her already riotous belly. Blake: Don’t be scared, Iz. Just take a deep breath and let yourself fall.

“I expect you to feed me, entertain me, and assist me while I bring your car back to life like some sort of mechanically-inclined god.” Izzy snorted. “Oh, I’ll be doing something to you while you work,” she said.

That made him glance over with a you’re-a-child smirk. “Creeper.” “No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I want to scoot under you. Somebody thinks pretty highly of himself.”

“That’s what it’s called – a creeper.” He shook his head and said around a smile, “And yes, I have one.”

“Can your cats have tuna?” He looked over at her. “Why?” “Just curious,” she said, pulling the pouch of Starkist out of her hoodie pocket. “Can they?” “Yes, they can have pocket tuna,” he said, “But they already have food.”

“Fine,” Izzy said around a smile, stepping over so he could lead her further into his apartment. “It’s totally lame.” He stopped beside her. Gave her a questioning eyebrow and asked, “Did you just call me lame?” “Did I stutter?”

She couldn’t not smile at him because he was beyond adorable. “Did you know that you’re a cat lady underneath your fancy suit?”

Dear God, she was so fucking pretty.

Izzy: You're not the boss of me. Blake: I am quite literally the boss of you.

“But Iz?” he said, his voice quiet and deep. “Yeah?” She shook out her fingers at her sides. “The way you kissed Tom Colicchio,” he said, his dark eyes hot on her, “Was fucking sinful.”

“I’m going to fucking lose my mind if you don’t let me talk to you.”

I’m watching for my hot date, Egomaniac. Not everything is about you. Blake: Open the goddamn door.

“Are you…nervous?” she asked, unable to believe it as she looked up into his face. “No,” he said, dismissively, and immediately followed it up with, “Actually yes. Fuck.” That made Izzy smile through her nerves. “Me, too.”

“Holy shit, are you trying to tie me to the altar and baby me up?”

“Y’know, I haven’t gone back there since the day I saw you in the elevator.” “Why not?” She shrugged. “They didn’t have heavy enough weights for me, I guess.”

Izzy pressed the button for his floor with her free hand. “I wish I had tuna in my purse.” “Said no one ever,” he replied.

He looked down at her, grinning up at him with maximum nose crinkle, and he knew he loved her. It didn't make a damn bit of sense, but he loved her so fucking much that it terrified him.

That pinching feeling returned with so much force it nearly brought him to his knees, and he couldn’t stop himself from biting out the words, “Holy shit, you are so fucking beautiful.”

“You are so fucking pretty that I have a hard time not staring. Obsessively. Every second that I’m with you.”

“Iz, believe it,” he said, his voice quiet as he stepped closer. “Your face is all I’ve thought about since you scalded my chest with your PSL.”

“World peace would surely make you happier.” “You can’t pin world peace on me,” he said

His reflection in the adjacent window mocked him. Dress pants, no shirt, two cats - fucking cool, bro.

That made him smile, the sweetest, most affectionate little grin, and he said, “I fucking love you.”

She felt like she was home.

Don’t be scared, Iz. Just take a deep breath and let yourself fall. Really, what else could she do, now that she was already in love with him?

Because Izzy was wrapped in his blanket, his shirt on her body and his socks on her feet. He felt…whole. That seemed far too dramatic, fucking romantic, even, but whenever he was with her, he wanted nothing else.

She got a calf cramp on the next block, which was how he ended up giving her a piggyback ride. Never, in his wildest dreams, would he have imagined that hauling a woman with an armful of flowers around on his back while dodging face painters and balloon-animal artists would go down as one of his very best days. But it would.

He usually didn’t give a shit about preschool antics, but with Izzy, he could listen all day. You told me ‘bout your past, thinking your future was me - the lyric came at him out of nowhere.

Because she hated getting her face wet. You told me ‘bout your past, thinking your future was me.

“Yeah - get out,” she said. “I’m done with you anyway.” “Nope.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, tightly, lifting her off the ground as he added, “We’re only getting started.”

She tried to be cool, but it was impossible not to smile at that because she just freaking adored him. She adored him and wanted everything.

“All of it – shit, Blake.” The older man gave his head a shake. “You moved in fast as hell after the first draft, didn’t you?”

What was he going to do? Blake wanted to slay the dragons in Izzy’s life, not become one.

So what was his plan? Wait until he knew she’d left the building with her severance agreement, then text whaddup?

Blake: I told him that I started dating you the second I saw a post-acquisition org chart draft showing HR would soon begin reporting to someone else. Obviously that changed, but at the time I thought we were fee and clear. Man, Iz, my heart exploded.

Blake pulled up in front of Izzy’s building. He shut off the car and texted: I have pizza, McDonalds, flowers, a six-pack, a gallon of chocolate ice cream, a bottle of wine, your better-than-new running car, and a thousand apologies. If you’ll let me come in, I’ll give you all of it.

Why on earth would you do that for me?” He looked at her mouth. Swallowed. “Don’t you know?” “Guilt?” she asked, feeling a shiver shimmy up her spine. “Try again.”

“I think I love you, too,” she blurted out.

“What did you just say?” She felt like an idiot. “Well, I mean, I’m sure--”

“Fucking say it again,” he said, closing the distance between them. In a second he was wrapping his arms around her waist and adding, “But slower, Iz. Please, God.”

“The dumpster behind your building.” “What?” She pulled back to give him her best scowl. “You threw it all away?” “Baby, I was depressed as fuck in the pouring rain,” he said, teasing but also sounding serious. “I threw your stuff away with a shit-ton of force and a litany of sad curses, actually.”

“Wait - am I baby now?” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you want to be?”

“You little pervert,” he said, squeezing her waist and giving her mock anger. “I will not table read from your favorite porn.”

“It’s way too soon to say this, but I know I love you, Iz, just like I know Goodyear needs insulin to live and that I’m allergic to cashews.” He was beautiful and earnest as he looked into her eyes said, “I don’t expect you to --” “But I do.” She blinked back tears – what the hell was that – and nodded. “I know it, too.” His jaw muscle tensed and his nostrils flared before he pulled her mouth back to his.

Blake: You home? Izzy: Yep. Just got here. Blake: And my car…? Izzy: Totaled. Blake: Thank you for taking such good care of it.

Izzy: I think I’m going to miss you. Or need a Tum. Blake: Not “think,” Iz – you KNOW. Try it again – all together this time. Izzy: I know I’m going to miss you, Phillips. Blake: Ditto, Shay.