Kyle… did he know I left home? Home is Los Angeles for me and where Kyle is. My best friend, my protector….my first love, my first everything—before he totally broke my heart almost a month ago when I got that call.
Kyle and I practically grew up together. He lived few houses down from me. We were each others’ strength ever since seven years of age and we never grew apart—until I left for school in London. After a few months in, he started being distant and reluctantly talks to me over the phone and when he does, he was nonchalant. I refuted his attitude off with viable reasons such as him missing me and couldn’t stand having me so far away from him and all. So, I ignored it.
Wanting to bridge the wedge between us, I decided to surprise him. I had a two week window in between semesters and I could easily visit him. But before I booked the ticket, he called me.
I was the one surprised.
That call shattered everything that I believed what Kyle and I had, that we were invincible. He told me that he met someone else and he’s been seeing her for a month. He justified his actions by stating that it was too difficult without me there and he was lonely.
Lonely?!
Two years of being together and best friends since the age of seven? Thrown out the window because he was lonely?! What a cruel joke.
Of course, Luce, Chad and Blake consoled me and all three begged me not to forgo my trip to Los Angeles. They argued that he wasn’t worth it and I might just end up regretting the decision.
But I held my ground and still manage to book that blasted airline ticket.
I’m not a coward and I needed to see it for myself.
To hear him say it, I needed him to say it.
Tell me, that it’s over.
Guiding me to the parked Black One 77 Aston Martin on the curb, he opened the door and let me in. The heady perfume of leather and Blake’s signature aroma annihilated my nostrils.
My stomach churned, I love his smell. It’s unique mixture of lemon aftershave and his skin.
Opening his side of the door and slid to the black leather seat next to me. Pulled out his aviator shades and started the engine pulling into traffic towards Picadilly. Some of his hair fell on the side. Looking like a sinful sleek rock God, in control and dominating.
What’s with Italian men and glorious hair, anyway? Even if he’s only half Italian—he certainly got the coloring and the hair thing going on.
I can’t help my thoughts sometimes. My reaction towards him comes naturally. He’s just too damn sexy.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” looking at him to see his facial expression.
He smirked, “No not really.”
I frowned at his answer.
“But—why? You could’ve confronted me in the morning, Blake—why the need to show up that late?” I’m nursing my ego, pride, and my heart, but certainly not suicidal.
He exhaled deeply, “I needed to see with my own very eyes that you were not crying yourself to oblivion or drinking yourself to stupor—I was worried. And it didn’t help that you were alone in the flat and I reprimanded Lucy for leaving you in the state that you were in—even if she argued that you wanted to go straight to bed.” He looked so serious and started to get angry again.
“It’s not Lucy’s fault that I showed up unannounced a week early than arranged and besides they have planned a trip to Turkey. I’m not about to have her stay back here because I had my heart broken? That’s ludicrous! She was worried but I convinced her to leave—to leave me alone. I needed to be left alone last night and I think deep down she knew that—it was what I needed.”
He looked pensive and seemed not to buy my argument.
I tugged at his shirt.
“Blake, you can’t seriously be mad at Lucy? She didn’t do anything wrong,” I was adamant that he believe me. I’m not going to let him be mad at Lucy and he knew it too. He’s just trying to drive me insane. They were my friends and they mean a lot—I consider them like family.
Taking out my hand, linked his on mine and placed both of our hands on his thigh, he spoke.
“I hate seeing you hurt, Sienna. You’re one of my best friends and I cannot endure—you being shattered and vunerable. You always had this easy going, happy attitude about you and after you got that call about two weeks ago—you’ve changed. I know you’re hurt, poppet. But let me help you—ease some of the pain? You’re not alone in this. If the situation were reversed, you would do exact same thing for me. Let me take care of you—until you’re better.”
Surprised and astonished from his speech, I gathered my dumbfounded brain to make a response. How lucky am I to have a friend like Blake? I know he doesn’t let a lot people in his private domain. He’s selective with his friends. He doesn’t talk much about his family, but from what I gathered from Toby, to those he let in, he’ll be your friend for life. Sort of like ‘til-death-do-us-part’ type of loyalty.
Blake sounded too serious and I needed to lighten up the mood.
Quirking my left eyebrow at him I asked, “Ease some of my pain, Knightly? Wonder how easily you can manage that! Tell me where and when I’ll show up, milord,” wearing a seductive smile and flicking my flashes at him going for the full effect.
Flashing me his magnetic smile as swiftly parked the car and killed the engine, giving me his full undivided attention. “Frisky, are we today, my sweet?” he drawled, brushing subtle strokes on my arm that still held his right-hand.
Ha, I see how he’s going to play this. Two can play that game.
“¿Cuánto me quieres, papi?” Papi means daddy, but it was widely used as an endearment, in other Spanish speaking countries, mostly in a sexual situation.
How much do you want me, papi? I purred at him knowing full-well he spoke fluent Spanish amongst other languages he fluently excelled in.
I leaned over him, inhaling his smell and whispered seductively, “Te deseo, papi—dentro de mí,” pulling back, biting my lip and gazed at him through my lashes for the full-effect.
His chiseled jaw dropped.
I want you, papi—inside me.
The air crackled, heavy with arousal. I felt him hold my hand tighter.
He swallowed hard and groaned.
Okay. I kind of over did that, but I couldn’t help teasing him. I just wanted to see if he would take the bait, and he did.
I busted out laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was just too intense; I had to figure out a way to burst this weird situation I got myself in. And laughing always seems to work.