Dirty Game

The small crowd erupted in applause. Blake looped the guitar strap over his head and placed the instrument next to his stool.

I had no words. My heart pounded in my chest. He had written everything I had been feeling for the past month. All of the things I tried to escape and ignore in Dallas, he had managed to capture in a song—an amazing, beautiful, heartbreaking song.

The butterflies in my stomach were now a full flock of seagulls. If I didn’t talk to him, I was going to explode.

I stood, ready to intercept his path to the bar. As he made his way off the stage, he shook a man’s hand and then, in an instant, Cece was next to him, handing him a beer. He squeezed her shoulder before taking a few swallows.

I stopped in mid-stride. Cece was planted under his arm, smiling and looking right at him. Her dark, pixie haircut was perfectly styled—too perfectly, I thought as I exhaled. This whole thing was a disaster. Complete disaster. Why hadn’t Cole been a little more forthcoming with the details of Blake’s Dock House nights? Maybe he wanted me to find Blake with another girl. Maybe he thought this was what I deserved.

The exit to the Dock House was about twenty paces behind me. Maybe I could turn and walk out before Blake saw me standing there like a total idiot. This didn’t have to get any worse than it already was. I reached down for my purse and slung the leather bag over my shoulder. Blake looked content with his arm draped around Cece. He hadn’t noticed I was there. He wouldn’t even notice I was gone.

I’d tell him another time. Another way. But not like this in the face of utter humiliation. I couldn’t watch him move on with another girl.

I walked toward the door with every intention of going straight to the car. But I couldn’t help it. As much as I wanted to walk right out the door, I needed one last look. One reminder that he had moved on and I was the one holding on to a summer crush. One more snapshot of Blake to remember. This moment needed to be preserved.

Because I would need it later when I held our baby. I would need to remember why I had to do this on my own. I couldn’t raise a baby with a man who didn’t want me. A man who didn’t love me as wildly as I loved him. What kind of life would I offer our child that way? This baby wasn’t bigger than a grain of rice and I already felt the strongest connection and maternal instinct for its happiness. It was my responsibility to give our baby everything in this world. And that might not include two parents who were in a relationship together, but it could include a mother who loved tirelessly.

I couldn’t put it all together in this second. Blake would have a role. He could be involved, but like hell if I was going to confess every love sick emotion I had felt. My heart broke and shattered with the realization that I had missed my chance with him again.

As I pivoted on my heels and looked across the bar, he saw me. Shit! Panicked and flustered, I slid through the narrow entrance and ran to the car. Oh my God, where were my keys? I fumbled through my oversized bag in front of the driver side door and dropped the keys on the pavement.

“Shit.” I crouched down, searching under the car for the keys.

“Sierra?” Blake walked over to where I was a shaking, nervous wreck. He dropped to the parking lot and scooped up the keys from behind the front wheel.

“Hey.” I let a nervous reply eek from my lips as I tried to stand.

Blake hopped to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I…” None of the prepared speeches I had rehearsed on the plane or in the car seemed to fit this moment. Seeing him with Cece had changed all of that.

I’m having your baby seemed like a ridiculous thing to say right now.

“I don’t even know what to say.” He stepped closer, causing my senses to buzz from the nearness.

“I should get going. Just popped by to say hi.” I reached for the keys that were in his fist.

Blake scanned my eyes. “What? That’s

it? I haven’t seen you in almost two months and you’re just out of here?”

I froze. What in the hell did I do now?

38

Blake

I had no idea what was going on with this girl. I thought I had seen a damn mirage when I looked over at the bar door and locked eyes with her. Nothing was going to stop me from running after that blonde, just in case it was Sierra. I knew I had it bad.

There wasn’t enough whiskey or beer last night to drink her out of my head, and I had sure as hell tried.

I thought I saw Sierra everywhere I went. The girl I spun around in the grocery store yesterday almost clocked me. Even my cousin, Cece, had started teasing me about it. The music helped; singing about Sierra helped. When those notes were in the air and I could sing about her, my heart didn’t hurt quite as much for that one song. Taking a hit on the field, or scoring a touchdown took the edge off. But, now here she was, already running out of town, and she hadn’t been here five minutes.

“I shouldn’t have come. Big, big mistake.” She fiddled with the door handle, suddenly very clumsy. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll call you later.”

I reached around her and took the keys from her hand. “Call me later?”

I wasn’t letting her out of here until we had it out. I was still a little drunk. Drunk enough I wasn’t going to hold anything back.