Fear of Falling (16 page)

“You’re nervous.”

I looked at Angel lounging on my bed like the princess she claimed to be and rolled my eyes. “You think?”

“Mmm hmm,” she remarked, her eyes glued to a gossip magazine. It was a good thing too; she couldn’t see me flipping her off.

“Maybe this is a mistake. I said I wouldn’t get involved with coworkers again. I need to call and cancel. I should cancel, right? Oh, holy fuck, what am I doing?” I rambled, wringing my hands in front of me. The room shifted before my eyes, throwing off my equilibrium. A panic attack was on the horizon.

“Calm down and breathe, Kam,” she gently admonished, tossing her magazine to the side. “It’ll be fine. Blaine is a gentleman. You’ll be fine.”

“She still freaking out?” Dom asked as he entered my bedroom. He flopped down next to Angel.

“I am
not
freaking out,” I insisted, crossing my arms in front of me. “And don’t think I’m speaking to you again. First, you totally blow up my spot last week at my job, and now you’re having secret pow-wows with Blaine? Not cool, dude.”

Dom let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I explained and apologized for last week, Kam. I just…I don’t know. Got caught up in stupid guy talk. I’m not used to being around other people outside of you two. For once, I wasn’t caught in a huge estrogen fest and I lost my head. Shit, you know I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t explain your little talk with Blaine earlier,” Angel chimed in, earning a hard glare from Dom that screamed,
“Mind your own damn business.”

“Just go into this with an open mind,” Dom said, successfully changing the subject. He knew he couldn’t win with us. “Don’t feel like you have to rush into anything.”

“Ok,” I nodded, smoothing my jean skirt over my hips. “How do I look?”

“He said dress comfortably,” Dom remarked, taking in my skirt, sheer, flouncy top and flats.

“This is comfortable! It’s hot as a witch’s tit outside!”

“Oh hell,” Dom shook his head. “Angel is rubbing off on you.”

“Damn right!” Angel exclaimed.

As we laughed off the tension, a buzz from the intercom caused the nerves to return with a vengeance. Angel flitted to the door, giving Blaine clearance to come up. I felt like I would break out into hives.

“Damn, girl,” Dom chuckled, climbing to his feet. “You act like he’s going to steal your virtue or something!” He crooked an elbow out for me to lace my arm through. “Come on, you’ll be fine, Kam. You deserve…
this.”

“This?”

“The normal dating thing. You deserve to be swept off your feet. The flowers and candy. You deserve to be happy, Kam.”

I looked up at my best friend, the man who had been closer to me than family. The only man I had ever truly trusted. “You too, Dom,” I whispered, my eyes shining with unshed tears. “You deserve that, too.”

“Eh,” he shrugged with a grin. “One day. But no time soon. Too many chicks out there with low self-esteem and even lower morals.”

I gave him a light punch with my other hand and shook my head. “Oh Dirty Dom, what am I gonna do with you?”

“I can think of a few things, but right now, you’ve got a guy waiting to take you out on a date. And if you don’t get out there soon, I’m sure Angel will start spilling stories of drunken girl’s nights involving tequila and dildos.”

My eyes grew wide with shock and alarm at the sound of Blaine’s deep laugh from the foyer. Yeah, Angel would totally give him an earful.

On shaky legs, I let Dom lead me out to the living room where Blaine stood with Angel, his back facing us. As if sensing our approach, he turned and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. Even though he wore a simple short-sleeved button up and jeans, his good looks still managed to disarm me. He was a rare, captivating work of sculpted art.

“Hey,” Blaine breathed, as we were just inches from each other.

I unhooked my arm from Dom’s and folded my hands in front of me, unsure of what to do with them. Part of me wanted to stretch on my tiptoes and give him a peck on the cheek, which is what I would usually do while going through the motions of a “date.” But this was unlike any of those times because Blaine was different from any man I had ever known. And the way I felt about him was just as foreign to me.

“Why does this feel like prom?” Angel asked, breaking the ice.

Blaine barked out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Should I have brought you a corsage?”

I looked up into his warm brown eyes, reflexively smiling at the sight. “I don’t know. Are you gonna try to spike my punch and feel me up in the back seat of your family’s station wagon?”

“Maybe,” he winked.

We escaped my roommates’ awkward questions and made our way down to Blaine’s truck. Turned out, truck was an understatement. He drove a beast.

“Huh,” I nearly snorted as we approached. “I hate to say it, but you surely live up to the stereotype.”

“What?” he asked sheepishly.

I waved my hand in the direction of the gleaming black F-150 before me. “Southern guy with a big ass monster truck? If you have a camouflage cap in there, I’m going back upstairs.”

Blaine laughed, shaking his head, as he opened the passenger side door. “No, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the evening.”

Before I could respond, his hands had wrapped around my waist, and he was lifting me up into the truck effortlessly. I let out a little yip out of shock although I felt completely safe and secure with his hands on me. He even reached over and buckled me in, letting his incredible scent wash over me, as his mussed hair tickled my face. I should have known at that very moment that my fate was sealed.

“So where to?” I asked after he had climbed into his own seat and revved the car to life.

Blaine smiled that boyish grin that made even the most ornery woman forget her name. I imagined the countless pairs of panties that must have dropped instantaneously from that smile alone.

“I have to feed you before I put you to work.”

“Put me to work?” I asked with mock offense.

Blaine winked a chocolate-brown eye, and I swear my heart stuttered. “You’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to a small diner in a rundown neighborhood. The parking lot was packed with cars, and I could hear at least five different types of music blasting from various stereo systems. The restaurant was old, nondescript, and reminded me of a hole-in-the-wall place with a chef that everyone called Cookie. I looked to Blaine with a raised brow. If this was the famous Blaine Jacobs persuasion, then he was extremely misguided and overly confident.

“Keep an open mind. I’ve got you; I promise,” he smiled, his brown eyes smoldering under the dimming sunlight.

He jumped out of the truck and came over to open my door, nearly picking me up out of my seat. Then he laced his fingers through mine as he led me into the diner. It was packed, and I could feel the panic rising in my gut. There were so many people…so many eyes suddenly on us. The only thing that kept me from falling apart was the fact that every table was filled. I knew we wouldn’t get a table and would hopefully leave. Thank baby Jesus for small miracles.

Heads turned instantly, and I heard quite a few people greet Blaine by name, including a tiny grey-haired lady behind the counter. She had a sweet face—one that reminded you of your grandma. Her eyes lit up when she saw Blaine and she flashed us a comforting smile.

“Hey sugar, you all go ahead on to your table. Mavis will be by with some sweet tea shortly, ok?” Her southern accent was thicker than Blaine’s, as if she had lived in the area her entire life. For some reason, it warmed my soul.

Blaine led me to a small table towards the back, greeting what I assumed were regulars the entire way. They all seemed to know him well, especially the female patrons.

“I take it you come here often,” I remarked once we took our seats.

“Yeah. I actually used to live a block away. My family and I came here all the time.”

I nodded, picking up the plastic menu. “So what’s good here?” I peered over the menu, noticing that Blaine hadn’t even picked his up yet. He must have known it by heart.

“Everything, really. But the waffles are the best you will ever taste in your life. And it just so happens that we’re here for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I asked, giving him a confused glare. “Um, you do realize that it’s nighttime, right?”

“True. But nobody does waffles like Ms. Patty. And you told me the first time I asked you out for breakfast that we’d have to do it some other time. And then I couldn’t stay for it this morning. So yes, breakfast is in order. We owe it to each other.”

I put my menu on the table and narrowed my eyes. “And what if I don’t want breakfast?”

Blaine grinned but didn’t get a chance to answer before a stocky-built young woman wearing an apron came by with glasses of iced tea.

“Hey baby, been a while since we seen you ‘round here,” she said to Blaine. He smiled at her politely then nodded towards me.

“Mavis, this is Kami. Kami, this is Mavis. Her family runs this old broken down joint.”

Mavis flashed me a smile before smacking Blaine on the shoulder. “Hey now! If Mama hears you bad-mouthing her establishment, she’s liable to send you back to wash dishes. Don’t think you are above some
real
hard work, Blaine Jacobs. I knew you when you didn’t have two nickels to rub together,” she jibed.

We all chuckled before Mavis turned her attention towards me. “Well, you two get back to your date. Mama will be by for your order. It was nice meeting you, Kami. And Blaine, try to stay outta trouble, ya hear? And you still owe me a bike.” Then she sashayed over to a table of rowdy teens.

“A bike?” I asked once we were alone.

Blaine shrugged. “She’s adamant that I stole her bike and rode it into a ditch when we were eight. It was actually CJ that did it, but I never ratted him out,” he winked.

“Hmph. Interesting.” I picked up the menu and began scanning it again.

“Seriously,” Blaine began, prompting me to lower the menu from my face. “Order whatever you want. You don’t have to get breakfast.”

I simply nodded and went back to perusing the selections in silence until a squeal rang out from beside us.

“You better stand up and give me a hug, you rascal!” the older grey-haired lady exclaimed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Blaine smiled, standing up to wrap her tiny frame in his arms. He looked like a giant compared to her.

“And who is this beauty?” she asked, smiling at me.

“Ms. Patty, this is the lovely Kami Duvall. Kami, Ms. Patty has been whoopin’ my ass since the day I was born.”

“Hush that mouth, boy,” she laughed, smacking him lightly with a rag. “Not in the presence of ladies. Now I know I taught you better’n that!”

“Forgive me. You certainly did, Ms. Patty.”

I couldn’t help but smile as she looked at Blaine with a loving pride that only a mother figure could possess. She loved Blaine, and I could tell that he loved her too. It made the walls around my heart crumble just a tiny bit more.

“It is so good to finally meet you, Kami,” she said, grasping my hands with hers.

I just barely stifled a yelp from the contact and tried my hardest to transform my grimace into a smile. “It’s really nice to meet you too, Ms. Patty.”

“Oh, Blaine, she is just too precious,” she remarked, patting him on the back. The look on his face was pure adoration, and I found it hard to tear my eyes away from his.

“Ok, what can I getcha? Blaine, you’ll have your usual, right?” Ms. Patty said, pulling out a pen and pad.

“Yes, ma’am. Kami?” he nodded.

I pushed the menu away and gave Blaine a wink. “And I’ll have whatever he’s having, please.”

The spontaneity was unlike me in every way, but the look on Blaine’s face was worth it. I don’t know what I would call it. Not quite joy, not quite admiration. It was something else…something warm and gratifying. Something that gave me the urge to do whatever I could to make him look at me like that again.

I must have gotten lost in those expressive eyes, because I totally forgot about Ms. Patty until she walked away, announcing that she would put our orders in right away. I shook my head, trying to regain my bearings.

“You’re doing it again,” I said, grasping a neon green flyer on the table advertising a car detailing shop.

“Doing what?”

“Giving me that look. Like you’re studying me. Like you see something in me that’s invisible to everyone else.”

“I’m sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

I shook my head, my fingers mindlessly tearing the paper. “No. Not really. But remember you said I distract you? And that’s why I couldn’t wear skirts?”

I heard him chuckle, but I was too bashful to meet his gaze. I knew the Asian flush was in full effect.

“Yet you have one on right now. Which you look incredible in, by the way. And it’s distracting the hell outta me.”

I chewed my bottom lip, my face flaming like a 12-year old girl with Bieber Fever. “Well…when you look at me like that, you roll your tongue. Like you’re playing with your piercing. And it’s very,
very
distracting.”