Sweet Revenge (m|m)

Six - Blake

Dr. Patreski reassures me yet again that there's nothing wrong with my memory.

"The helmet protected your head, Blake, thank goodness. If you don't remember someone from high school, it's probably because they didn't make much of an impression on you. Nothing more."

I believe her, but the way Aaron looks at me, I'm pretty sure I made some sort of an impression on him. It's weird to think that I could've had such an impact on someone and not even know they existed.

He's not back yet when my appointment ends, so I cross the street and get a coffee at a little bistro with a hip, urban vibe. Aaron texts me that he's a few minutes away, so I get him one too, though I don't know what he likes. I have a feeling if I wait to ask him he'll just say he doesn't want anything.

While I wait, I have an idea and call my sister, Tara.

"Hey, bro," she answers. "What's up?"

I tell her about my truck, and then about Aaron.

"Do you remember him?" I ask. "He said he's twenty-six, so you would've been in the same grade, right?"

"Blake, that was a big school. I didn't know everyone."

"Yeah, but you were popular."

"That means everyone knew me—or wanted to. If this kid wasn't a jock or a bad boy, I wouldn't have noticed him."

"Do you still have the year-book? Maybe you can look him up."

"Fine. I'll have to dig it out of the attic though. I'll do it later and call you back."

"Thanks. Text me if you find anything—this is driving me nuts."

She hangs up and a minute or so later, Aaron lets me know he's arrived. I was hoping he'd come in, but I'm guessing he wants to get back to Asherville and his store as soon as possible. He has a business to run, and—I realize with a little thrill of excitement—so do I. My shop's 'grand opening' is in a week, and I have a lot to do.

In the car, I hand Aaron his coffee.

"I didn't know what you like, so I guessed," I say.

He takes a sip and makes a face. "You guessed wrong," he says. "What is this?"

"It's a mocha."

"You think just because I make chocolates for a living I like everything sweet?"

"I guess I did, yeah," I admit.

"What do you have?" he asks.

"Uh... just black coffee."

"I'll have that," he trades our cups in the holders.

"But... I already drank half of it," I say, a little off-balance. "Let me go back and get you another."

"Nope. This is fine." He takes a swig, makes another face, and starts the car.

I don't know what to make of him.

~♡~

On the drive back I try to make conversation, but after the fourth attempt dies a lonely death in the silence, I give up.

When we get back, I thank him again for the ride and try once more to give him money for gas, but he doesn't even let me finish my sentence before he drives off and parks further down the street, leaving the spaces in front of his shop open for customers.

It seems he's determined to dislike me, and if that's the case there's little I can do about it.

It's a shame though, because he's goddamned gorgeous, I'm pretty sure we have shared inclinations, and I really want to kiss him. The whole ride I kept stealing glances at his profile, especially the soft curve of his lips. They're a pale, rose-petal pink, and I wondered if his mouth tastes like candy.