Chasing Beautiful (Chasing 1) - Page 2

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  • It’s true, vulnerability reminds me of my demoralizing childhood and hell will freeze over before I will let myself in that compromising position.

    Blake’s handsome head nodded in agreement, with evident understanding. He had an idea of my rotten years of misery, but never really pushed me to talk about it. I appreciated it and respected him for it. Both of our parents died when we were young and it was something we have in common—and it gave us a platform of understanding—that we didn’t have to explain the details, but simply understood the pain—the loss—the daunting uncertainty of loneliness and the frightening feeling of what loomed in the horizon.

    Blake and I immediately became really close after Lucy dated Toby which was right about when I moved in with Luce. We liked the same books, shows, board games—amongst other things. We hit it right-off the bat and hung out once a week or so—when he’s not busy with his women. And there’d been a lot.

    In the beginning, both Luce and Toby thought we would start dating too, but after a few months of insinuating, they finally let-up—accepting the fact that we clearly are just friends, platonic friends. I must admit that—at times—my mind drifts off and imagine—envisaging what it would be like to date someone like Blake. Six foot three in stature, all muscles and the most arresting face—full lips, straight nose, chiseled jaw—his unique eyes, hypnotizing.

    Sometimes, I get caught up staring into those eyes and forget where I was. Blake is the sexiest man—sinful and beautiful—my eyes ever graced upon. And I always immediately snap myself back to reality when I get reminded that he’s a good friend and that he dates tall, beautiful, leggy, statuesque type of women—preferably lingerie models. My coca-cola-bottle-shaped form did not stand a chance.

    Sure, most red-blooded male find me desirable and gorgeous, but with Blake, I simply felt plain Jane.

    “…so, it should be okay, right?” I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. And my dumb-founded look seemed to annoy him.

    Glaring at me and combing his hair with his right hand. He looks frustrated. Something was bugging him. But, what?

    “Sienna… I was asking you if you wanted to eat breakfast.”

    “You haven’t had breakfast yet? How come? You never leave anywhere without eating first thing in the morning…” I trailed off. “Hold on, how long have you been here? Sitting and scowling at me like a bear with a sore head?!” accusing green/gold to his midnight silver blue.

    “Awhile…”

    I glared at him some more, not budging.

    “Okay—okay—I think…quite possibly around four in the morning, I suppose?” he looked sheepish admitting this piece of information and started to run his fingers on his dark locks, again. This habit comes out when he’s anxious. He doesn’t know that I know this, but I noticed it enough. I notice everything about him.

    Did I hear that right? Four in the morning?

    “WHAAAAAT!?!”

    Oh, hell. He’s really pushing it. People break-up and get hurt all the time. There’s no need to go to such lengths on my own account.

    “I was concerned about you. I was worried and wanted to see for myself that you were okay. You’re one of my closest friends, Sienna, sometimes even more than Toby—and I didn’t want some bloody idiotic wanker treating you so badly—like you’re worth nothing! And you weren’t picking up your bloody phone and so I rushed coming here, like the good friend that I am, checking if you drunk yourself to stupor or what of it.”

    “I was sleeping! So, obviously, it was on silent!” I snapped at him.

    He has a very active imagination. How will he run his grandad’s empire if he’s extremely paranoid? The whole company will crumble under his thumb in a week. The thought made me smile. That would be a sight to see. But knowing how he is, he’ll excel and surpass expectations like he always does.

    His frown deepened.

    I scowled.

    Not withstand this feeling of being at odds with him, I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the couch. Our living room was painted in egg shell yellow, consists of two huge couches, HD television and a coffee table and other knick knacks to make it warm and inviting. The contrast of dark wooden floor and a huge area baby blue rug gave a homey cozy feel. It’s spacious and airy at the same time, never stifling.

    I love this flat. I felt like I belonged here.

    We sat next to each other on one of the dark mustard colored couches, shoulders touching. Our thighs touched. I glanced down and studied the outline of those well-toned muscular thighs, eyes full of admiration. Uncomfortable, I looked at my very skimpy short cotton soft-pink baby doll and felt a little flustered.

    How the heck did I manage to forget that I’m wearing almost next to nothing? I tried to cover my thighs by pulling it down more, but there’s little fabric to pull.

    Get over it, I told myself, he won’t be interested, might as well strip naked and test it. He’d probably beg you to get dressed before I embarrass us more. I smirked at the thought. I tend to push his buttons a lot.

    “Look, Blake, I apologize for my rude behavior. I’m sure if something happened to you—I would do the exact same thing—I was just taken aback—thank you for caring. It means a lot to me. I suppose I should’ve seen it coming with Kyle. We didn’t see each other for nine months and we grew apart tremendously over the months. The signs were there—but I ignored it. Somehow, deep down, I might’ve guessed that it was bound to happen. Kyle was a big part of my past. It’s sad that things had to end this way. We could’ve parted on nicer terms. But it happened and I just have to accept that.”

    That seemed to alleviate his mood—just a tad bit.

    I took his right hand with my left and squeezed it tightly. Holding his hand, he took other hand and touched my chin, making me look straight in his eyes, only a few inches apart. I felt my stomach drop and I was mesmerized.

    I’ve never been this close to Blake. But WOW, he easily takes my breath away.

    He’s so beautiful! Be still, my heart.

    “Are you sure you’re okay? Tell me—honestly? I want to beat his bloody ass to a pulp for hurting you! I warned you about that trip,” still angry and frustrated.

    I cleared my throat and reached out and hugged him.

    Blake’s such a good friend, maybe even a best friend. He cares for me. I suddenly felt like I had lump in my throat. There’s only a few that do and I’ll treasure them forever.