Page 48 of The Auction Block

Oh, Blake, if those lips weren't so soft, I'd punch you right in the mouth.

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So far, Blake's dragged me into Aeropostale, American Eagle, and Express. I've been in-and-out of dressing rooms and fought with him over sleeveless shirts more often than necessary. Refusing to explain why I only wear long sleeves has put him in a foul mood, and he's quiet as we sit in Red Robin for lunch.

Vlad's on guard outside the restaurant, since it's located inside a food court, and the walls are glass. I sit, slowly munching on French fries, and despite my best efforts, every few minutes my eyes betray me, stealing a glimpse of Blake's chiseled face, admiring the way he runs his index finger over his bottom lip as he watches me.

"What's your favorite Disney movie?"

I stare at him, my eyes wide. "Um, I don't have one," I mutter, popping another French fry into my mouth.

"How do you not have a favorite Disney movie? Everyone has a favorite Disney movie."

My face warms. "I've never seen any Disney movies, so, hard to pick one."

"Wait . . . you've never seen a Disney movie. Never? Not even the classics, like Snow White or Fantasia?"

I shake my head. With no memory of my life before the age of eight, I might’ve seen one before, but have no way of knowing.

"Nope, sorry. I don't know what those two movies are." I shrug my shoulders, taking a sip of soda.

Blake huffs and rolls his eyes. "Well, I think we need to fix that. Come on." He stands and holds out his hand.

I want to take it, but the thought makes my own hands tremble. My stomach clenches in remembrance of the charity event and the way his hands felt in mine. Slowly, I place my hand in his, taking a deep breath. He squeezes my fingers, gently.

"Is it too much?"

"No . . . it's okay."

Blake and I meet Vlad just outside the doors. He glances at my hand and back at my face. Raising his eyebrows, he grins. I shrug my shoulders as Blake pulls me through the food court toward the elevator.

We step inside, and my body tenses. Blake gives me a questioning stare.

"She doesn't usually do elevators, sir," Vlad says in a low tone.

"I never noticed before," Blake muses.

"She hides it well most of the time, sir."

I shoot Vlad a glare, shaking my head.

Let's keep my personal information to ourselves, please. Shithead.

"You don't like to be touched, you don't like elevators, and you don't like talking about yourself. You hate shopping, anything other than long sleeves and pants, and you hate makeup. Is there anything you do like?" Blake tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, sir," I say sweetly. "You just won't find them in a mall."

I scurry out of the elevator as soon as the door opens, pulling Blake behind me. Vlad chuckles, and follows. Walking to the Disney Store, Blake absently trails his thumb across my knuckles. It's the first time someone's touch hasn't sent me running for the hills in a long time, and I find it hard to concentrate. He drags me over to a large wall, laden with DVD's. His eagerness is contagious, and I smile up at him as he glances from me to the movies.

"Okay, pick some movies. Then, we're going back to the apartment to rectify your outrageous situation," he says practically bouncing in place.

I chuckle at his excitement. Running my index finger along my bottom lip, I scan the rows of movies. Blake watches me intently. I've never heard of any of these. He taps his foot, and I glance back at him.

"What?"

"How long are you going to stare at them before you pick some?"

"I don't know what the hell to pick." I laugh. "You pick."