Chapter 5

Blake flipped through the channels,not landing on anything. He was too distracted. Three days had passed since he'd foolishly planted one on Erika, letting his damn jealousy get the better of him.

She'd gone on dates since moving in across the hall, so he wasn't sure what was different about this Doug tool. Maybe it was because that guy had somehow managed more than one date—or the fact she hadn't told him about any of them.

There were precious few secrets between him and Erika, so the idea that she'd hidden this guy—on purpose or not—bothered him. He liked knowing what was going on in her life, liked being her confidante, and he hated that she was dating some boring financial analyst named Doug.

Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze zeroed in on today's square in the digital organizer. The two wall-mounted screens were the first thing Erika had bought them after they'd decided to co-parent Corky. He had one in his kitchen, and the other was in hers. The things linked so whenever she added something to hers, it showed up on his.

She was nothing if not organized, the woman in possession of not one, not two, but three planners, as well as countless colored pens and a stack of stickers as long as his arm. She fucking loved organizers, so he shouldn't have been surprised when she outfitted them with the digital ones.

He had to admit they were pretty cool. The things were touchscreen, so it was easy to add and delete things as needed. Originally, the plan had been to simply use the shared organizers to post their work schedules so they would know who had Corky each night and when to plan ahead for nights when they'd need to hire Ashley to dog sit. However, he'd noticed that more and more information was being added to the organizers lately, including their day-to-day plans, like pizza nights with the gang, appointments, and—he sighed—apparently Erika's dates.

Yesterday, he'd awoken to see a new item written under today's date, proclaiming her dinner/movie plans with fucking Doug. It had already been his night to keep Corky, so he wasn't sure why she added it. Maybe it was because the woman seriously couldn't hold herself back when it came to writing things in her organizers.

Or maybe it was supposed to be a subtle message to him.

After all, Erika was the one who'd insisted from day one that the two of them should simply remain friends. And Blake hadn't had a problem going along with that…until lately.

During the past few weeks, he'd started blurring lines, like the kiss and the masturbation lesson, while giving into—fuck—feelings he shouldn't have for his best friend.

Blake blamed his prolonged bachelorhood on his job. He was on the road several nights a week, and when he'd first been drafted, he'd been too enamored with the countless puck bunnies lining up to warm his bed to consider settling down with one woman. Why eat cheeseburgers every night when there was steak and salmon and lasagna and a million other delicious things to sample?

But after ten years of dining from the all-you-can-eat buffet, he was hungry for something more, something meaningful. There was such a thing as too many choices, and lately all Blake wanted was comfort food.

He snorted to himself, aware that Erika would read him the riot act if she heard him comparing women to food. And there was no way in hell she'd appreciate being thought of as comfort food, even if he did mean it as a compliment.

Leaning his head back against the couch, he sighed. He needed to shrug off these feelings that had started to develop for Erika. Blake refused to ruin a great friendship when it was abundantly clear he was the only one fighting this desperate need to cross the line they had no business crossing. He'd kept a lid on his physical attraction to her for years, so why was he suddenly so obsessed with her lips, her legs that went on forever, her smile, her hourglass figure?

While he'd jerked off three times the night of his "lesson," it hadn't helped at all—not then or since. Hadn't slaked his desire for more. For her.

Unfortunately, Erika hadn't looked at him in the same light the morning after. Shit. Until he'd forced her, she wouldn't look at him at all. And when she did, it was clear she was uncomfortable, not hot for more. Not that it should have surprised him.

There was no way Erika would have let it go as far as it had if she hadn't been tipsy and sad, so obviously in the sober, harsh light of day, she'd gone back to her analytical ways, falling back on all those reasons why they couldn't have sex.

And he'd let her. Desperate to put them back on firm foundation, swearing nothing had changed between them because he'd been worried she would push him away completely otherwise.

Mercifully, he'd talked her off the ledge that day…only to push her right back on it three nights ago when, in his grumpy asshole state, he'd pressed for a kiss "to make it better." The joke had been on him because that hotter-than-hell, not-the-slightest-bit-platonic kiss had made everything worse. A lot worse.

Erika was too good a friend to slap him or reject him outright, so she'd gone the gentle route, quietly letting him know he'd taken it too far again.

Yeah, tell that to his dick.

Since then, he'd only seen Erika whenever they traded Corky, and during those times, she'd been perfectly friendly…but distant.

It was his fault he was suddenly looking at her and wanting more than friendship. His fault his cock had woken up and taken fucking notice of how gorgeous she was, with her shiny chestnut hair, her soulful dark brown eyes, and her smokin'-hot body. Erika had curves in all the right places.

"Fuck," he muttered, feeling Corky stir next to him at the sound of his voice in the quiet room. He'd muted the TV while channel surfing, only just now aware of how stifling the silence felt.

He reached over and patted the tiny dog's head, grinning when she licked his hand, her tail wagging, showing him how much she enjoyed his attention. "I keep fucking up with your mommy."

The fact she was out on a date with Doug should tell him in bright neon letters he was the only one wishing the status quo between them would change from friends to lovers.

Corky shoved her head under his hand when he forgot to keep petting her.

"Shameless girl," he said, chuckling. Corky had become quite adept at petting herself with his hand or, if she was laying on the floor, his foot.

Resuming his clicking, he finally stopped his search when he found a repeat of the old Predator movie. Turning off mute, he propped his feet on the coffee table and settled in to watch, repeating the words "get to the choppa" in his best Arnold impersonation. Not that Corky was impressed.

The two of them lay there for an hour before Corky's head suddenly rose from his lap, her attention turning toward the front door.

She was better than any security service Blake could buy when it came to letting him know Erika was home. The dog scampered off his lap, dashing for the door, waiting for it to open.

Blake held his breath for a moment, hoping she'd said goodbye to Doug on the street so she could stop in to see him and check on Corky.

When nothing happened, he sighed. If Erika was home and alone, she would have come by here before returning to her apartment.

Which meant…

He leaned forward, trying to talk himself into staying on the couch. The pep talk failed miserably as he rose and joined Corky at the door.

Peering through the peephole, he growled when he spotted Erika and Doug standing outside her closed door. The guy was giving her one hell of a good-night kiss.

Blake knew he should give them some privacy. A decent man would walk away and stop spying on them. Unfortunately, he wasn't decent. At this point, he wasn't even fucking nice. Because what he did was the opposite of the smart thing.

He opened the door, then feigned surprise when he spotted Doug and Erika, both of whom quickly stepped away from each other.

"Sorry," Blake said, as Corky sprinted across the hall, Erika bending to scoop the dog into her arms. "Thought Corky was whining because she needed to pee. Didn't realize you were home."

As far as lies, his was a whopper, and also a shitty one because it was instantly obvious to his intelligent neighbor that Corky wasn't wearing a leash for their nightly walk.

Doug was studying him with a curious expression, so Erika offered introductions.

"Doug Prescott, this is my neighbor, Blake Wright. Blake, this is Doug."

Doug glanced at Erika. "When you said you shared a dog with your neighbor Blake, I assumed you were talking about a woman." Then the man's gaze flew back to him. "Wait. Blake Wright?" Doug crossed the hall excitedly, his hand outstretched. "Holy shit! You're a center for the Stingrays! I'm a huge fan. Try to make it to as many home games as I can during the season."

Blake smiled, returning the man's handshake, pointedly ignoring Erika's narrowed eyes staring him down as if she was telepathically trying to tell him to fuck off.

"Nice to meet you," Blake said.

Doug launched into a conversation about the previous night's home game, which he'd apparently attended with some work colleagues. The two of them spent the next ten minutes rehashing the finer points of the game, which mercifully the Rays had won. Blake had even scored a goal, so it was easy for him to chat, secretly pleased that Doug was impressed by him. It soothed the ragged parts in Blake that were—fuck him—jealous that this man had gotten to take Erika out while he'd been hardcore relegated to the fucking friend zone.

Erika cleared her throat when the conversation carried on a bit too long.

"Oh damn. Sorry about that, Erika. I guess you busted me," Doug said good-naturedly. "I'm a bona fide, hardcore sport's fanatic. I usually try to hide that fact until at least the eighth date, lest I scare the woman away."

Erika giggled at the man's stupid joke. "I think I can deal with that. So long as your fandom doesn't involve painting your face or chest."

"No face paint." Doug crossed his finger over his heart, and Blake scowled, annoyed to think this guy was getting too fucking close to that eighth date. According to Erika, they'd had two coffee dates and four dinner dates, counting tonight. Turning back to Blake, Doug gave him a single nod of his head. "It was great to meet you, Blake."

"You too," Blake said, proud of how sincere his lie sounded.

Erika placed Corky down, the dog scurrying back to Blake as Doug returned to her. It was apparent this was the part where Blake was supposed to say good night and return to his apartment.

He wanted to do that.

He really did.

But it was obvious Doug was waiting for Erika to invite him in for a nightcap. Blake wasn't a hundred percent sure how he could stop that if she did, and he was a million percent sure he shouldn't try.

Reluctantly, he began to move back inside, pausing when Erika gave Doug the brush-off, claiming she was working the early shift at the hospital. Blake knew from the digital organizer that she didn't have to be at work until noon, and because he was him, he smirked to let her know he knew she was fibbing.

She shot him a dirty look that left him feeling less chastised and more amused as he called Corky's name, guiding her into his apartment to shut the door.

He hadn't made it three steps away from the door before it flew open. Blake twisted, grinning widely.

"What the hell was that?" She slammed the door behind her.

Blake frowned, pretending the question confused him. "What was what?"

"Why did you open your door?"

"I told you—" He started to repeat his lie, but Erika cut him off, rolling her eyes.

"Please. You didn't even have Corky's leash in your hand. You were spying on me."

He crossed his arms. "You can hardly call it spying when I was standing right where you could see me. I just wanted to meet the guy. See if he's good enough for you."

Erika placed her hands on her hips, and while he could see she was trying to be pissed, he didn't think she was as annoyed as she was acting. "Who I date is none of your business."

Blake shook his head. "Bullshit. You're my best friend, Erik. You can be damn sure I'm going to check out your boyfriends to make sure you're not only safe but with someone who will treat you the way you deserve."

Erika tilted her head but didn't respond. He'd taken the wind out of her sails.

"Why didn't you invite him in?" He was curious if he'd changed the course of her evening or if she'd always intended to send the guy packing.

"I should have. I mean…I was thinking about it."

Blake frowned. "Thinking about it? The guy walked you all the way upstairs. Seems to me like you'd already decided."

She shook her head. "I hadn't." Then she glanced back at the closed door. "Oh my God. Do you think I was giving Doug mixed signals? He was the one who offered to walk me up. When he kissed me good night, I was trying to decide…" Her words faded away.

"You were trying to decide while he was kissing you?"

She shrugged. "I like him, and we have a good time together, but I'm just not sure I'm ready to take the next step."

Doug couldn't be much of a kisser if Erika was standing there making a list of pros and cons while the guy was laying one on her. He was tempted to tell her as much, but he knew her well enough to know that would really annoy her.

If he was a good friend, he'd convince her to invite Doug in the next time for a sleepover. The woman had gone too long between sexual encounters.

"When was the last time you had sex?"

Erika shook her head. "I'm not talking about sex with you again. We already had that conversation."

"More than two years? Three?" he guessed.

The way she stilled told him he was on the right track. "Why do you think that?"

"I live across the hall, Erik. Never, not once, have I seen any guy leaving your place in the morning…or in the middle of the night, for that matter.

"Just because I don't have a revolving door of lovers coming in and out of my place, doesn't mean I'm never getting laid." Her cheeks were flushed that adorable pink that told him she was lying though her teeth.

"My apartment is hardly a revolving door, if that's what you're insinuating." Blake headed to the kitchen, peering into his refrigerator. "Beer, wine, tea, coffee, or OJ?"

She followed him, leaning on the island counter. "Beer."

He popped the tops off two Coronas, handing her one.

"No lime?"

He chuckled. "Snob. I'll put them on the grocery list for next time."

They tapped their bottles together, not bothering to make a toast, each of them taking a long swig.

"So you like this guy?" Blake asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I guess so."

She was the queen of vague when it came to subjects she didn't want to discuss. Usually he let her get away with it, but not this time.

Blake took another quick sip. "You've gone out with him more than any other guy in the past few years. So I'm going to go out on a limb and say you like him."

"He's a nice guy."

Jesus. She was a professional when it came to being elusive. Not that it mattered. He knew exactly how to get her to talk. "It's a shame he's such a shitty kisser."

Erika frowned. "He's not a bad kisser."

He smirked. "Not bad doesn't not translate to great."

She put her beer down. "Doug's kisses are very nice."

"Nice is probably the most boring word in the dictionary. Don't mean to brag, but none of my lovers have ever called me or my kisses nice."

Erika rolled her eyes. "You realize what you just said was the very definition of bragging. And I'm pretty sure there's no way you can know they haven't said that about you."

Blake leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in a way that he knew made his muscles bulge. "Trust me. I know."

"You are the most arrogant, annoying, cocky?—"

"Cocky and arrogant mean the same thing," he interjected.

"Thanks for all these vocabulary lessons, Balakay. You're in rare form tonight." She sighed. "But I'm too tired to play."

He hadn't noticed the dark circles under her eyes until she admitted to being tired. "You sleeping okay?"

"Yeah." He wasn't sure what it was about her tone or facial expressions, but he could tell she was lying. "You know what you need?" he asked as he spied a way to cheer her up…and keep her from going out with Doug this weekend.

Not that keeping her away from Doug was his primary objective.

Now who's lying?he thought to himself.

"If you say sex, I swear to God I'm going to walk out of this apartment and never come back."

He chuckled, then pretended to lock his lips and toss the key away on that subject. "What are you doing Saturday night?"

Erika, the clever woman, looked instantly suspicious. "Why?"

"Just answer the question," he pressed.

"I'm busy."

Blake laughed as he strolled over to the digital organizer, clicking on a button to show the weekend portion of the calendar. He already knew the answer to his question, noticing she had nothing listed under the date when he'd filled in his own plans.

"Hmm," he said, pointedly looking at the empty space.

"Fine. I'm not doing anything…yet. But there's a chance Doug might text me for a date."

Blake made a buzzer sound, indicating her answer was wrong. "Nope. You're going to have to tell the not-bad-kissing nice guy that you're busy."

"Doing what?" Erika took a drink of beer.

"I have to go to this stupid charity event, some black-tie gala, and you're coming with me."

Erika responded by giving him back the same "wrong answer" buzzer sound. "Pass."

"Nope. No passes. You owe me one, and I'm collecting."

Her brows furrowed. "How do I owe you one?"

"I picked you up at work when your car was in the shop, and you said so."

She scoffed. "Those favors hardly match. You drove ten minutes out of your way to bring me home. You're asking for hours at some stuffy party with a bunch of people I don't know."

"You'll know plenty of people," he reassured her. "Tank, Coulton, Victor, Preston, and a few other guys will all be there with dates too."

"Take Mindy," she grumbled.

Blake shook his head. "Took her last year and…it didn't go well. One of the organizers of the fundraiser, an older gentleman and a widower, was there with his twenty-year-old daughter. Mindy made a comment about what a cute couple they were."

Erika giggled. "To be fair, Mindy's assessment of the male population probably falls into two categories, hot hockey players or sugar daddies."

Blake groaned because she'd hit the nail on the head. Mindy had made a remark after he'd explained her mistake to her at their table, asking if the widower was still single.

"I'm not taking Mindy."

"Fine. Pick another bunny."

He shook his head. "Nope. You're pretty and smart, you clean up good, you know the difference between the salad and dinner forks, plus, I don't have to worry about you embarrassing me."

Erika held up her hand. "Stop with the compliments. My head will explode."

Blake wiggled his eyebrows at her, chuckling.

She glanced back at the digital organizer. "Wait a minute. How long have you known about this event?"

Blake shrugged. "I don't know. A couple months? Maybe three?"

"You realize most women need longer than three days' notice for swanky parties. What makes you think I have anything suitable to wear?"

"Don't women have dresses for all kinds of shit?"

She sighed. "That's beside the point. You can't ask someone to something like this on the spur of the moment."

Blake gave her shit-eating grin. "All I heard was beside the point. Which means you have a dress."

Erika rubbed her brow, and for a second, he started to worry about her "tired" comment. She'd pulled a couple of late nights this week, covering for a doctor who'd been involved in a skiing accident and broken his ankle, so maybe she was feeling overworked.

However…this felt like a different kind of tired.

He hated the fact she was fighting him so hard because it drove home what he already knew. Erika didn't want to sleep with him.

If he wasn't such a cocky, annoying, arrogant man, maybe he could accept that with good grace. But he couldn't deal with the idea that fucking boring-ass Doug had gotten two coffee dates and four dinner dates, and he couldn't even convince her to go to a shitty charity event with him as a favor.

The entire idea of her picking Doug over him rubbed Blake wrong. So he embraced his new bad habit of doing something he shouldn't. Lucky for him, it was something he was also good at.

Seduction.

"Tell you what," he said, circling the island until he stood next to her. "Why don't you mull it over? I'll even help you. You think best when you're kissing, right?"

Before she could respond, he reached out, gripping her shoulders and pulling her close. His mouth was on hers in a second and he pushed her lips apart, his tongue dipping inside, tasting the beer. Her mouth was cold from the drink, so he worked hard to heat it, his breath mingling with hers, growing warmer.

Blake nipped her lower lip, then started exploring her mouth with his tongue again, making damn sure Erika was so focused on his kiss, her brain wouldn't have time to make a pros and cons list like the one she'd been composing for Doug.

He half expected her to push him away, like she had the other night in his bedroom, so he went for a tighter grip. He released her shoulders, moving one hand to the nape of her neck to hold her in place, the other gliding down until it was wrapped around her waist, his fingers just grazing the top of the ass.

His kiss and hold were relentless, forceful, but he simply couldn't let her go.

He didn't begin to relax until Erika's hands found their way to his shoulders, drifting higher as her fingers slipped through his hair, closing around it in tight fists. His scalp stung from her grip, but there was no way in hell he was going to complain.

Erika was kissing him back.

The passion between them ratcheted, soaring to levels he'd never reached. Kissing wasn't high on his foreplay list. There were too many other erogenous zones that brought him more pleasure, but goddamn if her kiss didn't leave his dick painfully hard, his balls tight.

Before he could think through his next move, he shifted them, the hand on her back sliding to her hip as he shoved one of his thighs between her legs. Erika pressed against him, dry humping his leg, the friction and heat from her pussy penetrating through her dress slacks and his lounge pants. Blake growled into her mouth, the hand on her hip aiding her motions, pushing and pulling her more firmly, helping to drive her arousal higher.

Fuck. Him.

She moaned into his mouth, the sexiest sound he'd ever heard. Blake deepened the kiss, determined to hear it again.

Erika didn't disappoint, giving him the same moan three more times. Her teeth found his lower lip, teasing it, biting it. She was playing with him, giving back as good as she got.

Blake released her nape, drawing his hand around to the front, lightly cupping her throat. He didn't apply pressure, just let her feel his touch, let the sheer possession of it sink into her psyche.

Erika wasn't a submissive. Not by a long shot. But he knew her well enough to read her responses. Her body's responses.

She liked it when he took charge, when he told her what to do. If he wasn't so worried she'd turn tail and run if he stopped kissing her, he'd slide his lips to her ears and give her some more of that dirty talk she was so fond of.

Blake lost sense of time, too wrapped up in the kiss, in the way Erika was riding his thigh, in her.

She was fucking everything.

Perfection.

And despite her assertions that they remain friends, he couldn't keep her in that box anymore. It was too small to contain what he wanted from her.

Which meant, he had to convince her to change her mind, to open her eyes and see what he saw.

That the two of them would be so fucking good together.

Hell, they'd be explosive.

Erika gasped in his mouth, her hips thrusting harder.

God, she was close to coming, just from dry humping his thigh.

Blake slid his hand to the opening of her slacks, intent on slipping his hand inside to find her clit. He knew without a doubt he could set her off like a bottle rocket within seconds.

His fingers brushed against her bare stomach, but damn if that touch wasn't the equivalent to someone dousing them in cold water.

Erika jerked back before he could read her intention. She almost stumbled in her attempt to escape him, so he reached out to grasp her arm, steadying her. That touch had her shrugging him off more firmly, retreating even farther away.

"Erik," he said softly, talking to her like she was a wild mare he was trying to tame.

"Blake." Her eyes were wide and wild, her cheeks red, her breathing stuttering.

He needed to do damage control, fast.

"Did you have enough time to think about Saturday night?" He was proud at how steady and strong his voice was.

She frowned. "What?"

"Sounded to me like you do your best thinking while kissing. Weren't you weighing over whether or not to invite Doug in while he was kissing you?"

She reached up, touching her kiss-swollen lips, which the alpha male inside took great pride in seeing. Erika was more than a little bit flustered, and he freaking liked that too. Liked keeping her on her toes. God knew that's where she'd had him the last few weeks.

"Tell you what, Erik. I'll make it easy on you. I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday."

Erika looked like she wanted to refuse, but when her shoulders slumped and she released a long breath, he knew he'd won.

She was too rattled to fight. He tucked that information away because that was something he could definitely use again.

"Okay," she said, slowly licking her lower lip, drawing his attention to it, making him want to resume the kissing right where they'd left off. His dick was rock-hard and hurting, and he suspected she was in a bit of pain herself. Stopping so close to coming couldn't have been easy for her.

"But it's not a date." She was trying to put parameters on this thing between them again.

Blake hated it, but because he didn't want to lose the ground he'd gained, didn't want to run the risk of pushing her too far, he merely said, "It is whatever we want it to be."

Two could play the vague game.

She looked like she wanted to belabor the point, to force him back into that "just friends" box. She was welcome to try, but he wasn't going back there without a fight. It was obvious she wasn't where he was, but Blake was nothing if not persuasive, and Erika had unwittingly given him way too much ammunition. There wasn't much about her he hadn't learned in the last three years, and he planned to put all that information to good use.

"You want Corky tonight?" he asked, even though it was technically his night to keep her.

Erika glanced around, spotting Corky lightly snoring in her dog bed in the living room. She shook her head. "No. She's comfy here."

Blake nodded once. "Okay."

Erika's gaze drifted lower, and Blake chuckled. There was no hiding the impact their kiss had on him. His erection was very obvious, thanks to his cotton lounge pants. He adjusted it as best he could while she watched.

When she realized he was looking at her, her gaze met his. He winked.

When she rolled her eyes good-naturedly, he decided he'd won that round. Erika was shaking her head as she turned and walked toward the door. The fact she wasn't stealing one last cuddle from Corky told him just how much he'd shaken her rafters.

Opening the door, she glanced over her shoulder. "Good night."

He managed to give her a carefree smile—though it took a bit of work. "Night, Erik."

Blake walked to his closed door, peering through the peephole to make sure she got back to her apartment okay. Twice, she paused, and he hoped like hell she would turn around.

If he'd known for sure she was coming back to expand on the kissing, he would throw the door open and take the decision away from her. Unfortunately, her halting steps could just as easily be her debating whether to come back and tell him she wasn't going to the party with him.

Rome wasn't built in a day, so Blake forced himself to remain where he was rather than take that risk.

Whatever internal debate she was waging ended when she unlocked the door to her apartment and went inside.

Knowing she was safe, Blake turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room, treading down the hallway to his bedroom, Corky hot on his heels. She leapt on the bed, assuming her usual spot, while he made his way to the bathroom. Staring in the mirror in front of the sink, he rested his palms on the counter, trying to take several deep breaths.

Then he reached inside his lounge pants and pulled out his cock, aware sleep wasn't happening until he took care of this.

Closing his eyes, he imagined a naked Erika bent over before him, her elbows resting on the sink.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Fuck me," she whispered.

Blake ran the head of his dick through her slit, her legs parted in invitation. Erika's pussy was hot and wet. "Hold on," he warned her. "I'm not going to take it easy on you."

She gave him a sexy smile. "Good," she taunted.

Blake grasped her hip with one hand, the other guiding him to her opening. He slammed inside with one fast, rough thrust that had him bottoming out. Her back arched as he white-knuckle gripped her hips, dragging her onto his cock before pushing her off again.

Erika's sexy sounds filled the bathroom as he fucked her harder than he'd ever fucked anyone before.

Reaching around her, he placed just three firm strokes on her clit before she came, her inner muscles clamping down so hard on his cock, he saw stars. Blake's climax erupted mere seconds after, and he filled her with his come.

Silently, he prayed for some strong swimmers, hoping tonight was the night he got his woman pregnant.

Blake gasped for breath, looking down at the mess he'd made, his come coating his fist and the basin of the sink.

Jesus.

What the fuck was that?

He'd never wanted to get a woman pregnant.

Hell, pregnancy was one of the reasons he'd never once had sex without a condom.

Now there was no denying just how different his feelings toward Erika were. She'd even twisted his jerk-off fantasies upside down and backward. Making him want so much more than sex for the first time in his life.

Blake stared at his reflection, feeling shell-shocked because he realized that with Erika…he wanted it all.

A best friend, a lover, a wife, a mother to his kids…

Forever.

He wanted forever with her.

Blake closed his eyes, debating whether it was better to let that word fade away or sink in deep.

Because Erika wasn't where he was, and there was a chance she never would be.