Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Ivy packed quietly and quickly. She was staying for dinner and then heading back home that night. She was happy her father had found Ellen and that they were going to create a shared life together. Her father deserved that happiness; he was good and hardworking and decent and Ivy didn’t want him to be alone. No, Ellen and Jonas’ relationship wasn’t the problem; she was the problem.

Ivy couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. She had offered to bring his cellphone to the gym because she wanted to see him. She would never admit it out loud, but she liked his teasing ways and his jokes. Whatever else he might have been, Blake was always a good time. But he was too dangerous. It was too easy for Ivy to fall back into her old ways with him. If she weren’t careful, she could lose control. It would be all too easy to fall into his arms and she knew he would be waiting to catch her.

She didn’t want to have any reasons to put off her departure. She wanted to be able to grab her things and go before darkness fell. It would be tempting to sit with Blake on the couch, to let herself slip onto his shoulder and rest against him. She would let his hand slide down her back and along her neck.
Stop it,
she thought to herself.
Blake is the same guy he always has been. He’s selfish and the only thing he cares about is himself and his success in the ring.

She heard Blake as he entered the house, slamming the door closed behind him. Ivy zipped up her bag and left it on the bed. She could hear as he bustled around, eventually heading towards the bathroom and turning on the shower. Once Ivy was sure he was in, she finally let herself leave her room.

Soft jazz music was playing over the house as Ivy walked into the kitchen. Ellen and Jonas were both cooking, Ellen chopping vegetables as Jonas cooked chicken on the stove. They looked almost too cute together, like a couple of young lovers without any of the age or baggage they normally carried around.

“Smells delicious,” Ivy said.

“Thanks. Will you set the table?” Jonas asked over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Ivy answered. She moved deftly around her kitchen, staying out of the way of the two cooks as she set out placemats, plates, forks, knives, and glasses.

By the time the table was set Blake had finished his shower and dressed in jeans and a tight, black t-shirt he flopped down in a chair next to the table.

Ivy refused to look at him, fighting the blush she knew was creeping along her chest and cheeks. When she did sit down and take a glance at Blake she could see he was looking at her with a small smile on his face. She could never resist that smile and she had to give one of her own in return. Thankfully Ellen and Jonas quickly joined them as food was spooned out of the bowl and they all dug in.

“This is delicious, Mom…and Jonas,” Blake said through a mouth full of sautéed chicken.

“Do you cook much, Blake?” Jonas asked.

“No, it’s mostly protein shakes and take-out burgers for me,” Blake answered. “But I do miss my mom’s home cooking.”

“She’s an excellent cook,” Jonas agreed, smiling over at Ellen.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dad,” Ivy cut in.

“So everyone’s a good cook but me,” Blake said with a smile as he took a sip of his water in front of him. He was looking at Ivy as he spoke. In fact every time Ivy glanced at Blake she would find him looking back at her.

“Do you really have to leave tonight, Ivy?” Jonas asked.

From the corner of her eye she could see Blake almost jump a little at the question. He looked at her with a questioning gaze.

“Yeah, I have to get back to work, and I don’t want to have to deal with traffic in the morning,” she lied. She had plenty of vacation time and the commute wasn’t really that bad. But she couldn’t be in this house with Blake and his smile any longer. “It’s been great spending time with the two of you. You both look so happy. I’m really looking forward to the wedding and to being your maid of honor, Ellen.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Next time we should drive up together,” Blake offered. “We should think about the environment and our carbon footprint.”

“I do hope the two of you will get to spend some time together in Seattle,” Ellen said.

“It should be easier now that I know Ivy actually lives in the city,” Blake said.

Ivy smiled and offered no answer to Blake’s unsaid question. He knew why she hadn’t called him and she knew that had been the right decision. She needed to get back to Seattle and back to work so she could forget about him. Once she didn’t have to look at his half-naked body all the time she would have an easier time leaving him behind.

***

Her bag packed, Ivy did a quick sweep of her childhood bedroom to make sure nothing was left behind. She had just grabbed the handle of her bag when Blake appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and looked wistfully around the room.

“We used to have a lot of very quiet fun in here,” he said. “Remember? You were terrified your dad would hear that you had snuck me in.”

“The folly of youth,” Ivy said shaking her head.

“Can I come in?” Blake asked. He had never asked a question like that before. Blake was not the kind of guy who asked for permission.

“Sure,” Ivy said, feeling that familiar blush creep up on her, “but I’m about to head out.”

“Why?” he asked walking into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “Why are you leaving?”

“I told you at dinner, I have work.” She looked away from him, but had nothing else to look at and finally she had to look up and meet his intense gaze.

“Why do you want to learn how to fight?” Blake asked.

Ivy opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of how she should answer. She shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, “no reason.”

“You always hated fighting when we were together. You would refuse to speak to me for days after I was in a fight.”

“You were fighting in school,” Ivy corrected, her blush gone as she looked boldly into his eyes. “You were getting into fights and getting suspended. It was dangerous and stupid. You could have been expelled or really hurt someone.”

“But now that it’s MMA, you’re okay with it?” He asked.

“I...don’t know,” Ivy said with a shrug. “It definitely makes it more legitimate and there are refs there so nothing too crazy or dangerous will happen. I guess I’ve just realized it’s pointless to fight you on this. You like to fight and you’re always going to like to fight and nothing I do will change that.”

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“That’s not true and you know it. You’re good at lots of things, Blake. You know how to fix electronics; you fished the washing machine and the dishwasher in this house when we were fifteen. I think you could do anything you want, but fighting is easiest so you do that.”

“You think fighting is easy?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Ivy said shaking her head. “I think you’re amazing and you could do anything you put your mind to. I just wish you would pick something else other than fighting. I think you’re better than that.”

He took a step towards her, making them only inches apart. She could feel his cool breath on her exposed collarbone. She looked at his chest and refused to look any higher. His eyes were dangerous pools of blue and she was worried that she would fall into them and never get out.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Blake said. “Why did you want to learn how to throw a punch?”

“Just curious,” Ivy said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her cheeks were burning, but she forced herself to glance up at him. He was far too close. She had the strongest urge to reach out and place her hand on his chest. She wanted to lean into him, to rest against him and feel his hands on her back. This was a bad idea. This was why she had packed her bag earlier. She wanted to avoid this, to avoid temptation.

Chapter Nine

Blake stood over Ivy and watched her blush as it spread over her chest.

“I have to go,” she suddenly said, taking a step away from him. She picked up her duffel bag and sidestepped around her.

“Seriously, Ivy?” Blake demanded. She stopped in her tracks and then turned around slowly to face him. “What is this? One minute you’re flirting with me and the next you’re icing me out. Are you playing a game with me or something? Because the Ivy I used to know would never pull that kind of crap.”

“I’m not playing games with you. I’m stopping myself. Nothing can happen between us, Blake.”

“Why? Because of prom-”

“No!” Ivy interrupted dropping her bag. “It’s because our parents really love each other. My dad deserves to be happy and being with your mom makes him happy. They are going to get married and that will make us stepsiblings. We can’t date. What would happen if we were to break up? We’d still see each other on holidays and birthdays; it would make everything strange and awkward. And why, Blake? Nothing’s changed. You’re still the same self-centered guy you were in high school. I’m not going to wreck this for them just so you and I can have a quick fling. That’s not fair.”

Blake shook his head, and tried to speak, but it was too late. Ivy was already at the door and saying a hurried goodbye to her father. Blake stood frozen on the carpet, unable to take a step forward. He didn’t know if he wanted to convince Ivy to stay or tell her to go to hell. The front door slammed closed and it was like a spell had been lifted; Blake could move.

He walked out into the living room where his mother and Jonas sat, watching
Law & Order
on the couch. Ellen was leaning back against Jonas’ chest and his arm was wrapped around her. They laughed at something at Blake had to admit that Ivy was right; his mother did look happy.

Blake didn’t know if he was ready to leave his bachelor life behind. He liked being on his own schedule. He did what he wanted when he wanted to. There was no need to check in with anyone to make sure the calendar was clear like so many of his buddies. If someone put together a ski trip, Blake was onboard. He had a rotation of girls who called him when they were in town. Musicians, dancers, artists, was he really ready to settle down with on girl?

Maybe, if that girl were Ivy.
But no, that was just wishful thinking. A tiger can’t change its stripes. Blake’s mother had done a lot for him. He had always been a fighter. Anytime he saw a kid get bullied, Blake would step in to stop it. It started with his friend Tommy who got his lunch money stolen and got punched in the stomach on his way to school. When eight-year-old Blake heard the story from his crying friend, he vowed to stop the bigger who had done it.

That was the first fight he lost. The ten-year-old, Phillip Miller, who lived down the street took him out with one punch to the face. One hit and he was on his back on the pavement seeing stars. He remembered looking up at the blue sky he could see between the leaves and thinking
this isn’t that bad.
And it wasn’t. Getting hit hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared it would be. The next time he fought Phillip, Blake would win.

Blake was who he was. He was a fighter; he lived his life fast and free. Ivy understood that, maybe better than he did. She was right. They shouldn’t be together. They were too different. With a sigh, Blake walked into the living room and sat down in one of the chairs. It would have been nice to have tried again with Ivy. Maybe he could have done some miracle and kept them together. But now he would never know.

The next morning Blake was looking under the hood of his mother’s car. He had checked the brake pads and now he was changing the oil. It was a rare sunny day and Blake rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt and felt the warm sun on his skin.

“Oh, Blake,” his mother said as she came out of the house and walked toward him. “You’re so sweet to do that.” She looked under the hood of the car, but Blake knew she had no idea what she was looking at.

“It’s no problem, Ma,” Blake said.

“I just wanted to thank you for being to nice to Jonas this weekend,” she said, giving him a quick little hug.  “I can remember a time when you were a lot harder on my boyfriends.”

“Yeah, well. You dated a lot of jerks,” Blake answered.

“So you like Jonas?”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Plus, he raised Ivy and she’s almost perfect, so he has good instincts.”

“I’m glad you like him, Blake. I know this is strange, what with the past you and Ivy have.”

“It’s fine, Mom. It’s not a big deal.”

“Good, because I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Sure, what?” Blake asked.

“Since you approve of Jonas, I was hoping I could ask you to walk me down the aisle. My father died so long ago. You don’t have to...”

“Of course I will,” Blake answered. He threw down the rag he was working with and hugged his mother. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Oh, Blake. I am,” Ellen answered.

He had to get out of there. There was too much love and happiness. It didn’t fit with his current mood. He went to his old familiar bar downtown. Normally he would have headed straight for the bar to try and see if anyone he knew was around. But today he didn’t feel like talking. He took a quiet booth in the back and watched the Seahawks game on the screen.

His brain had stopped trying to find a way out of it. He needed to forget Ivy and move on. The last time he had tried, it took about three years to finally stop thinking about her every day. He wasn’t sure if he could do again. He would still have to see her and spend time with her. They would definitely see each other at the wedding, at least.

He drank his beer quickly and switched to whiskey. He had a fight coming up and he needed to make weight. The bar was dark and quiet and it was exactly what Blake wanted. He didn’t have the energy to do anything else. He didn’t want to train or party and he wasn't ready to go back to the house and the happy couple.

“You normally call me when you’re in town.” The voice was low and gravelly and Blake could hear the rasp from all the cigarettes. He looked up at Amy DeMayo. She was tall and thin with lanky brown hair. She was wearing a bit too much makeup, streaks of bright blue sparkling shadow over her eyes.

Amy had been a year below Blake and Ivy in school. She always had a crush on Blake, but Ivy had been in the picture and she was the only girl Blake had eyes for. But after Blake and Ivy had broken up Amy appeared and the rest was a slightly regrettable history. Amy still lived in their hometown.  She worked as a cashier at the local Stop and Shop. The last time they had been together Amy had wanted to take their relationship from friends with benefits to serious relationship and Blake turned her down. They hadn’t spoken since.

“I thought the nature of our relationship had changed,” Blake offered, eyes still on the game.

“Why would you think that?” Amy asked, sliding into the other side of the booth. She pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit up; this was one of the last bars in town you could still smoke in.

Blake frowned at the smoke. He was in good shape, he took care of his body, and smoking was not a turn-on for him. “Look Amy, you’re a great girl. But nothing’s changed on my end. I don’t want to be in a serious relationship with anyone. I don’t want to lead you on.”

“Just because I can’t be your girlfriend doesn’t mean we can’t still still have a good time,” she said, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. He felt her foot, free of its shoe begin to slide up his leg.

He looked over at Amy, she looked tired and her teeth and eyes were yellowing. For the first time, possibly ever, Blake realized that he was not in the mood. “I don’t think so, Amy,” Blake said jerking his leg away from her foot.

“What?” Amy demanded staring at him over the table.

“I said I’m not into it anymore, Amy.” He looked back up at the TV and sat back in the booth. Amy snarled at him and shook her head. He heard her call him a nasty name under her breath as she scooted out of the booth and stomped back to the bar.