"So, what's the deal tonight?" I ask, as building after building after high rise whirs past the train's windows.
"Deal? I thought you were--?"
"I mean...who am I? am I your boyfriend? Your friend from school? Just one of the guys? What am I if your parents ask? Or some snooty guy at the party does?"
"Um...you know...I guess...I really didn't think about..." Blakely's voice trailing off. "It's not like my family thinks much of me anyhow, so this is probably going to be the only time you'll have to put up with them," she explains. Scrunching her face in that 'raised-cheek-squinty-eye' way, she asks, "Have I said how much I owe you for this one?"
With a chuckle, I say, "Look, B, its really not a big thing. Spending the night eating a crazy expensive dinner I likely won't be able to pronounce, at a fancy party, with a great girl dressed to the nines on my arm is definitely not the worst thing,". She blushes, those beautiful cheeks turning ballerina pink. It's kind of sad that she doesn't realize just how amazing and brilliant and fun she is. I've got a major feelings for her, and I'm pretty sure she feels the same, but we want such different things, so we just don't go there.
Her gaze still turned to her shoes, I brush the back of my fingers on her cheek, and she looks up, deciding, "Boyfriend. Definitely boyfriend. No one will ever expect that one," she says, her arms wrapping around my neck as she pulls me in for a hug. I pray that she can't feel the heat in my cheeks right now.
******
Walking in, she and I (mostly her) greet and chat with a few other party goers who either worked with her dad at some point or now work with her big sister or however they know each other. Bonnie politely introduces me to each acquaintance or couple as her boyfriend, just as we had decided on the subway ride in, but I let her do most of the talking.
After enough intros and small talk, Blakely grabs my hand and makes a b-line for the open bar, ordering a dirty martini with no salt. I ask for a light beer, and she squeezes my hand, whispering to me, "You're going to want something a lot stronger than that when you meet my family,".
But I lean over and whisper back, "I think I'll be just fine," with a wink, then add, "Besides, one of us has to stay relatively sober tonight and I'm guessing that's not going to be you, classy lady," I tease. Again, she blushes, not as much as she did earlier but her gorgeous cheeks still became a flattering shade of light pink. The bartender hands me my beer, Blakely looking at me and says, "Good call," taking another drink from her glass.
Hardly ten minutes later she utters, "Oh god, there's my mother," so I give her hand a squeeze and mumble, "We got this," and kiss her cheek.
"Hi Mom," "Blakely! Hello sweetheart!" they greet each other as her mother approaches, both with open arms and hug.
Looking me over, bemusement on her face, Mrs. Reid asks, "And who is this?"
"Mom, this is Writ, my boyfriend. We met in that Psyche course I was taking last semester,".
Extending my hand, I say, "It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Reid,". We shake and she smiles, which I'm hoping means I passed the first hurdle.
"Our table is over here. Palmer and I were just talking about plans for the nursery since your dad and brother are off chatting with coworkers," she explains, leading us to the table where a young woman, who I assume is the sister-in-law Blakely mentioned, is sitting.
Taking a long sip of her cocktail, Blakely and walk, arm in arm to the table. I pull her seat out some, then take mine and the girls commence to chatter. She introduces me again and I congratulate Palmer on her small baby bump, then sit back down. Emptying her glass, I can't tell whether Blakely is more nervous or trying to brace herself, and I give her foot a little nudge under the table. She gets the message and takes a drink from the water glass poured for her already at her seat.
As the night goes on, her father and Jaren having joined us at the table, I can tell by looking at her that some of the conversation is wearing on Blakely, announcing that I'm taking a trip back to the bar and ask if anybody wants anything. I leave a kiss one her head after her mother and sister ask for refills then cross the room.
When I return, I notice that I Blakely is sitting a bit lower in her seat than she was when I left so after setting down my long neck and her mother's wine, Blakely looks at me like I'm the greatest person to ever exist when I put a second martini in front of her. A few more minutes of conversation go one, and I can see that my girl needs a break.
Standing up, I offer her my hand and ask her to dance. She gives a polite no, claiming dancing's 'not my thing'. "Come on babe, please?" I beg, to which she replies,
"Writ I already told you I don't dance,"
So, I lean over and whisper, "Am I really going to have to throw you over my shoulder again to get you on that dance floor?" Her jaw drops as I stand back up and say, "At least give me a chance to show off my beautiful girlfriend," Blakely's hand landing in mine, and I lead her to the dance floor.
Clasping my hand, setting her other on my shoulder, she looks up at me, her lips puckered to one side and one eye squinted, then says, "You're a very sneaky boy Writ Tacker," and putting a hand on her waist, my thumb especially grateful for the side cut-out of her dress, I spin her, then answer, "At times, I can be," a smirk on my face as I pull her into me.
******
As we step back out on the sidewalk after the charity banquet, she and I take a rest on the side of one of the bit stone planters outside the door. She softly rubs her silk covered taut stomach, so I ask, "Are you feeling ok Blake?"
She nods then says, "I hate to say but after all the harsh criticism and fancy food, I really need some carbs," a chuckled 'that's the girl I know' and tell her to wait right there, stepping up to the curb, I put two fingers in my mouth and do what dad always referred to as a 'red neck whistle' hailing down a cab.
One pulls up and I walk back to Blakely, taking her over to the taxi. I laugh as we buckle out seatbelts and she asks, "Where are you taking me?" in a playfully suspicious tone.
"You'll see soon enough princess" I say teasingly.
******
Five blocks, a left turn, and two right turns later, we arrived at the corner of 47
th
and K street. I stuck out my hand to help her out of the car, paid the driver and thanked him before he drove off. "Here we are!" I tell her.
"A food cart? Really?" she asks skeptically.
"You said you needed carbs. Grover here has some of the best pizza, soft pretzels, and hot dogs you can find in this city," I proudly explain.
Almost on cue, he steps from around the corner, a look of surprise on his face when he sees me. "Writ, man. Hey!" He says, pulling me in for a big hug, "Dude it's been months. What are you doing here?" taking in the sight of my suit jacket and neck tie, "Especially dressed so fancy, my man?"
I chuckle, "Hey G! Not much. College has been kicking my butt around for the last few months man," and then I see his eyes go over to Blakely and he tilts his head, "Oh, this Blakely, my date," I say, placing my hand on her back and bringing her forward a few steps, "we just came from a fancy dinner thing her family is a part of and now we need some real food,". He grabs two hot pretzels from the rack, and I ask him for a hot dog and the biggest slice of cheese pizza he has.
As he hands me the food, he furrows a brow toward her and wordlessly asks me a question, "It's not like that. We're just friends Grove, and I was her buffer from some harsh parents tonight," Blakely looking up as she bites into the pizza when she realizes what we're talking about.
Still looking doubtful, my friend nods back at us and we say our goodbyes, Grover shutting things off and packing up as the two of us stroll down the sidewalk. Blakely shudders against the night chill as we room the street, so I take of my jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She shoots me a questioning look and I say, throwing up my hands in an innocent gesture, "I know, I know. We're not dating, you're not my girlfriend, I get it. But I don't want you freezing either," I laugh for a second before adding, "Besides, it's not like I'm giving you a promise ring and my letterman's jacket," making her laugh a little too.
******
A few blocks and a subway ride later and we were back at campus. "Damn these shoes! Why does being girly have to mean ridiculously painful fashion and the ability to walk on pencil-thin heels?" I can't hide my laugh at that one, then lead her to a nearby bench. "Take off the 'damn shoes' B and put your feet up here," I tell her, patting my lap. Unbuckling the straps at her ankles, she slips her feet from her peep toe heels. I can practically hear them throbbing as she slides them onto my lap.
I press the heel of my hand into the arch of her foot the way the sports trainer showed me in high school, and lightly rub behind her heel. "How do you do that Writ? My feet feel so much better already?" she says in disbelief and wonder.
"A person's arch and heel take the most pressure when you're walking, standing, running, whatever so most people don't realize that when their feet hurt, most of the pain is actually coming from," I explain.
"Oh my god that feels so fucking good!" She moans, dropping her head back. I try to hide my laugh under my breath but apparently do a bad job as she looks up, asking, "What so funny there, Mister?"
"Nothing, nothing," I say, "Just that it's late, we're on a college campus and if you had said that any louder somebody might've thought we were having sex,". She playfully punches me arm, sitting up and taking her legs off my lap.
Looking back down at her shoes, she groans. "I can always carry those back for you," I offer.
"Thanks. I just don't want to anymore walking tonight,"
"Easy," I say grabbing her shoes and standing up. I lean some and tell her, "Hop on,".
"You want to give me a piggy-back ride?"
"Sure. Why not? It won't take care of all the walking you have left but at least most of it. You afraid it won't look lady like?" I tease.
"Fuck 'lady-like'. My feet hurt like hell," she responds, getting up on the bench and climbing onto my back I feel my boys immediately respond as her remarkable body adjusts and her beautiful chest presses on my back. Thankful that it's dark and the tent in my pants isn't as noticeable, I wrap my arms around her legs and start towards our residence hall.
The walk back isn't a very long one, but Blakely makes sure it's nearly insufferable, nibbling and blowing on my ear, pressing her soft lips to my neck. I let go of her leg only to flash my ID badge at the entrance gate then walk up to door. I set her down before opening the front door and walk with here to the stairs since floors one and two of our building are guy dorm but three and four are girls.
