Lexi, the Lover

The snow crunched under my feet as I made my way to Blake’s painting shed.

            There was a big snow storm today so school was cancelled, and since I had been staying at Blake the previous night we all agreed it would just be better for me to stay over and not drive in the snowstorm. I did my homework and read a bit, and Blake had spent all day locked up in his painting shed. When he woke up this morning he said the snow had inspired him and he really wanted to paint. I wasn’t going to stop him, but now it was slowly starting to get dark, and Blake still hadn’t come inside to get food, so I had made it my mission to brave the snowstorm, and get to his shed with his dinner.

            It was still snowing a lot so I tried to move quickly but it was kind of hard since snow kept getting into my boots because too much had fallen and it reached higher than them.

            When I reached Blake’s shed, protectively covering the bag with his food in it, I didn’t bother to knock, I was just too in a hurry to get inside. I dragged snow away as I opened the door.

I felt kind of clandestine, just sneaking in his painting shed, without an invitation. For some reason, I always felt like I was trespassing when I was coming in here, like this was Blake’s private domain and he might snap at me if he ever found me here—like that could ever happen though. I really had issues.

Blake had his back to me when I close the door behind me. He was sitting on his stool, painting a landscape covered with snow, with a little boy building a snow fort on it and a little girl trying to catch snow flakes with her tongue beside him.

“Knock, knock, knock,” I said softly behind him, while taking off my coat and my boots—the place was heated—trying not to spook him.

Blake turned around and automatically smiled. “Oh, hey.”

“I come bearing food,” I said, showing him the bag Anita gave me.  

“What time is it?” Blake asked, frowning.

I chuckled slightly. “It’s dinner time actually.”

“Wow, already?”

“Yep.” I handed him his food.

Blake opened it, taking a burrito out. “I’m so sorry, we missed the whole day together,” he said, making a little face.

“Bah, don’t worry about it,” I waved the matter away. It wasn’t like I never spent time with the guy. “It was a good thing. I’m all done with school work now, and I’ve been trying to read Tuck Everlasting in French by using the English version and your dictionaries.”

Blake stopped chewing, and smirked. “How’s that going?”

“I read one page.” I sighed. “In two hours.”

“Aw, I’m so proud of you Pumpkin.” Blake crooned, chuckling.

I glared at him. “Little bitch…” That made him laugh more. “So, almost done with that painting?” I asked, pointing to it with my chin, as I sat down on the bed in the corner of the shed. It was as comfortable as the bed in his room, which was saying something, only it was smaller. Much smaller.

“Not nearly.” Blake groaned a little and ate more. “Painting snow is really hard because it’s never truly white. If you wouldn’t have come in, I probably wouldn’t have eaten. And I would have ended up on that bed.”

“I always wondered why you had a bed in here,” I said, running my hands over it.

“Well, that’s why. Because sometimes I get so engrossed by one of my projects that I don’t see time pass, and I get dog tired and I don’t even have the energy to crawl back into the house.”

I kinda liked that about him, how fully engrossed with his art he could get. I always thought it showed his passion for what he did.

Blake kept digging more food in his bad, and I looked around d the shed, my eyes falling on a pile of canvas with some paint on them that he’d never shown me.

“You have so many painting stacked up,” I said pointing with my chin towards the stack of canvas, “is there a reason why you aren’t showing them to me? Any Stacey nudes?”

“Funny.” He chuckled. “No, they’re just all old projects, so that means I never finished them. Before you I started a lot of things, but never had the heart to complete them.” We looked in each other eyes. He didn’t need to say anything, it was all there, his love, it was almost tangible. “But hey, if you want me to make nudes, I’d be more then happy to get you a tacky heart shaped necklace and draw you.”

“And then we can have sex in a car?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Because our first time should definitely be in a car.”

When he said that I couldn’t help but frown a little.

Our first time… I didn’t want to sound bad, but it kind of felt like that first time of ours never would happen.

I mean, of course we had been dating for a little less than four months now and it really wasn’t that long, all things considered. But it felt like it had been longer, like we had gone through more. And heck, it had been 7 years of pinning for Blake.

So, I couldn’t understand why we weren’t exactly close to having sex.

Even my father couldn’t believe it. And that had been one awkward conversation. Having your father give you boxes of condoms every damn week was embarrassing enough, but when I had exclaimed that he could stop buying me condoms and he had assumed it was because I was only relying on my pill and he had felt the need to start telling me why double protection was mostly for him because he didn’t want to be a grandpa just yet, I had to stop him and tell, that yes I was on the pill, but I was in fact not having sex and in no needs of condoms.

Fracking embarrassing. And of course, Tyler had to be there to hear it all. Prick.

Usually I would have dropped the matter, mostly because people could always come in or eavesdrop, but right now we were alone, in his shed and no one would be stupid enough to go out in the snowstorm to bother Blake while he painted. And for some reason, I felt bold. “So, where should it be then?”

            “Not a car…” Blake trailed. He pretty much had gobbled all the food by then.

“What are you waiting for Blake?” I softly asked, like asking too loudly might spook him.

“What do you mean?” he whispered, closing his eyes.

I got up and went to stand in front of him, his knees touching my thighs since he was higher on his stool. “I mean, what are you waiting for? I love you.”

“I love you too,” he automatically answered, his eyes opening.

“I know.” I took his slightly paint stain hand and kissed it. “We love each other and I know you want this, us together, so what are you waiting for Blake?”

“You’re not doing it for the first time in a car,” Blake replied, swallowing loudly, and looking away.

“But don’t you know this?” For once I was the one placing my finger on his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I don’t care about where it’s going to be. I told you I didn’t want hotel room and rose petals and grand plans. I just want you. You’re the only important aspect in this whole first time thing.” And again he closed his eyes. “What’s wrong Blake?”

            “What’s wrong is, this will be your first time, but it won’t be mine.”

            I let out a breathe, trying not to chuckled at the obvious fact. “Yeah, I was kind of aware of that.”

            This time, Blake looked fervently in my eyes. “But do you have any idea how bad I feel about that?”

            “Why would you feel bad?” I frowned. “We weren’t dating before. You couldn’t have known.”

            “But I should have waited.” he held my face between his palms, and added passionately, “I loved you so much, yet I assumed I had missed my chance with you, that I’d never even have any chance with you, and I was stupid and I should have waited for you.”

I pressed my palms over his. “But I don’t care Blake. The past is in the past. The only thing I care about is our future together.”

“But I care.”

That boy. Sometimes he could be such an idiot. “And if you keep caring about that, then how do you want our relationship to grow? How do you expect us to be a healthy couple if you’re still punishing yourself for something that truly doesn’t matter in the end?”

“I don’t know…” he trailed, looking sad.

“Look, if you want to tell me that you want to wait until we’re married because you’ve suddenly found God and don’t want to live in sin, fine with me, I can deal with that, but I’d just like to know. I want a real, honest, logical reason. I don’t want you to punish yourself for no reason. And me in the process.”

And suddenly, the corner of his mouth lifted a little. “You want to marry me?”

I rolled my eyes. Dumbass. Of course that was the only thing he caught in my little rant. “Well, right now I kind of want to punch you, but yes, in the future I’d like to marry you, if you’d have me.”

Blake got up from his stool, still holding on to my face softly, pressing his forehead to mine. “Damn, I love you Pumpkin.”

I smiled a little. “I love you too, you idiot.”

            “I just…” He sighed, closed his eyes, and opened them again, like he was trying to get some courage out of it. “I feel like I don’t deserve you, like I’m not worthy enough.”

            I stepped away from his, glaring at him. “Are you fracking kidding me?”

            Blake looked shocked. “What?”

            “Say that one more time and I’ll slap some sense into you, Vanessa’s style.” At least this made him laugh, though I didn’t think it was that funny. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I was so sad before you came into my life, but you made things better. You made me better. And I love you for it. I love you so much, and I want to be able to show you just how much I love you,” as I said those words, I took a step back towards him.

            “How much do you love me?”

            “I love you despite your insecurities,” I told him and grabbed him by the back of the head, pressing our lips together. Kissing Blake was like a second nature to me by now. I had kissed him more times that I could count. It was more often than not, the first thing I did in the morning and the last thing I did at night. Kissing Blake was effortless, yet breathtaking. “I love you even if you don’t always love yourself.” I added after breaking away from our kiss and lead him slowly to the bed—though I wasn’t so much leading as accompanying him. “I love you for how beautiful you are inside and out,” I said as I gently pushed him on the bed before straddling him. His hands automatically went to my thighs. “I love you for the good you see in me,” I said before kissing him again and I rolled my hips and was happily greeted. The bulge and I were on shaking hand terms so I wasn’t completely unsettled by it now, but that definitely didn’t make me an expert in the matter. Still, it did make Blake groaned and it did make me discard my shirt and his pretty quickly. Blake’s skin was so soft and I hated having anything between me and it. “I love you from here to here,” I softly said and trailed kisses from his collarbone to his hipbone. By then, Blake was breathing just has heavily as I was, his head thrown back a little. There was definitely a lot of thrill that came from being able to create that sort of reaction to Blake Eaton.

            Blake said my name in a sigh while I worked on getting his jeans and mine off. Getting jeans off hardly ever an easy task, but it was again one layer too many that separated me from Blake.

            When we were finally both only in underwear, I sat back on his lap and kissed him more, our lips parting, our tongues teasing. Blake’s hand sliding in the back of my panties and I couldn’t help the slight moan that escaped my mouth and died in Blake’s.

There was urgency in our kisses that I often felt. I don’t know why but there was always this underlying tension, like at any given time things would go wrong because we were too happy and the universe couldn’t allow that.

Maybe that was just Blake’s paranoia rubbing off on me though—no pun intended, though Blake was kind of doing some rubbing on me.

            When my hand reached in between us, Blake broke our kiss, and breathlessly whispered, “Lexi… wait, maybe…”

            “Maybe what Blake?” I asked him, my voice thick. If he stopped me, I wouldn’t hold it against him. He had once told me he never wanted I-don’t-knows and maybes in our couple, he always wanted me to be sure. I wanted the same thing. I wanted him to be sure too. And it really didn’t matter to me when we’d finally make love. All I cared about was being with him. I was in no hurry. But I didn’t want him to deprive himself and me at the same time of something we might both be ready for, of something we both wanted.

            And I wanted him. There was no denying that. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone. But wanting Blake more than anything was just a typical Friday night for me.

            Blake turned us around and hovered over me, kissing me between my breasts. “You can never complain that I didn’t cover the bed with rose petals and that it wasn’t even a double bed. That it wasn’t romantic enough.”

            I ran on hand in his hair and the other on his back. “It’s snowing outside and I’m with you. How more romantic could it get?”

            Blake smirked. “I have a few ideas.”

            “You can shut up now,” I informed him, and raised my leg, grabbing his boxers with my toes and pulling them down.

            “Is this how you want me? Silent?” Blake asked, teasingly and pressed himself right between my legs. For a second I lost any kind of thought process and threw my head back.

            “Yes, I just want you to lay there and not utter one sound,” I replied breathlessly.

            “You wound me.” Blake slid his hand under me and unclasped my bra.

            “You’ll get over it…”

Snow kept falling outside, burying the small shed, trapping us in but it didn’t matter. We generated enough heat to live through any snowstorm. And we generated enough love to last us for a lifetime.