Capture the Moment (Moments #1)

14. Blake

fourteen

Blake

Everyone and their mom is at 88UP tonight—literally. I think I saw Morris Brown’s parents drinking beers with their kid when we walked in. I don’t know what we were thinking when we decided to fit not only the entire football team but the hockey and basketball teams inside the medium sized bar but we did.

The sports themed dive bar was so filled to the brim with hormonal college kids that I’d almost mistaken Jace for the president of the Theta Nu sorority. The punch I’d earned to the shoulder from him was indeed worth it.

“I can’t believe you brought your planner to the bar.” Jace laughs aloud as Cleo writes away in her small red book.

The girl rolls her eyes at him, giving him a vulgar gesture before focusing back on the planner.

I watch from across the cramped table as she spends an additional five minutes doing Lord knows what before leaning across the table, snatching it from her tiny cold fingers.

I can feel the sharp looks of Jace, Georgia, and maybe even Ryan, burning in the side of my head as I plop back down in my seat but my eyes remain trained on the brown skinned girl. Her jaw drops as she furrows her brows. Oh, I love that look. She looks like an angry poodle with her little pink bows and small nose. I’d booped it earlier just to get a reaction out of her and she didn’t disappoint with her small frown.

“We had a deal, Princess.” I smile at her as she sighs, rolling her eyes as realization dawns on her.

“Deal?” Georgia peers between the two of us as Jace and Alec sigh .

“Oh, Cleo, please tell me you didn’t make a deal with this asshole…” Alec grins, amusement dancing in his eyes as she groans, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Had I known he would be such a pest, I would’ve exterminated him instead…”

“Looks like you got a flea problem, CJ.” Ryan chuckles and though he’s speaking to Cleo, his eyes are focused steadily on the dance floor where Tatum and Denver are.

At that, Cleo groans even louder. “What do you want, Boy Scout? You get three games and that’s all.”

Boy Scout… I didn’t think that such a stupid nickname could sound so precious coming from someone until now. I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I focus my attention on the brown-eyed woman in front of me. Her nose stud glimmering under the warm lighting of the bar.

“Darts?”

Ryan and Jace snort as soon as the word leaves my mouth, the two of them try to hide behind their drinks to mask their amusement but Georgia is the complete opposite. She bursts into laughter, leaving my mind to wonder if I was the one who'd made a deal with the devil, and not the other way around.

Cleo smirks at me, mischief and glory aligning her bright pupils as she peels herself from the brown booth the group of us occupied. I watch as she stalks towards me, my stomach dropping at her faint attempt at masking a smile.

What have I gotten myself into? This is why I don’t play games without knowing my opponent first. Cleo approaches me slowly, her smile now prominent as she bends slowly to my level and I can just see the “you fucked up” look in her eyes as she smirks.

“Lead the way, Boy Scout.”

And so, like the true idiot that I am, I follow her command and lead the way. The two of us reach the gaming area of the bar in no time with Georgia, Jace, Ryan, and Braxton all following behind with their phones ready to capture my inevitable defeat .

“You gonna let me win, Princess?” I try to lay on the charm, giving her my most innocent smile.

She reciprocates the action; the sight of her pearly white teeth goes straight to my cock and it takes everything in me not to adjust myself while she’s looking at me like that .

Like I’m the guy she’s about to walk like a dog. And if I’m being honest, I’d let her.

Please keep in mind that I never said that I was smart. A smart man would know when he’s about to get his balls handed to him. But a genius would know that if it’s a gorgeous girl like Cleo Jones doing the handing, then you let her.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Wilder.” She chuckles getting on her tiptoes to bring our faces just a bit closer.

This girl is stunning.

I told Derek that I wouldn’t flirt with her but what am I supposed to do when a woman of her magnitude smiles at me like that? Just stand there like an idiot? I mean I can…but why would I want to? Instead of backing away from her, I step a little closer, blocking out the images of our friends and her brother as I take in her sweet candy-like smell; it’s so intoxicating that I could get drunk on it alone.

“What if you’re my wildest dream?”

There! I said it. Sue me.

Cleo stumbles just a moment, blinking up at me before she chuckles. “Okay, okay, that’s enough teasing from you. After tonight we’re going back to our original deal.” She laughs, shaking her head as she turns to the unused dartboard behind her.

Cleo walks up to the board with all the confidence in the world, getting darts for us before coming back to where I'm standing.

“Good luck,” I say with a smile, leaning in close beside her ear.

She turns to me briefly with a smirk, mine trips at the sight of it as she says, “You’re going to need it. ”

She remains looking at me with her shoulders rolled back and head held high as she lifts the dart up and lets it loose. My dick twitches at the unrelenting eye contact and I swear that Braxton whistles as the dart hits its target.

Bullseye.

Cleo shrugs as if she didn’t just hit a bullseye without looking and sashays back to Ryan, grabbing her Blue Hawaiian from her brother.

Jace lets out a bark of laughter so loud, Russia can hear him as he claps a hand on my shoulder. “If there’s one…” he tries catching his breath, “if there’s one thing we never bet on with her, it’s party games,” he finishes, wiping a stray tear from his eyes.

I chew on my bottom lip, looking over the damage caused by the pink-loving girl behind me. I shouldn’t have picked darts as my first option because I’m, one, terrible at the game, and two, can’t see the board for shit without my glasses. The same glasses that I refuse to wear in public. I also decided to go contactless today because contacts fucking itch. So now, I’m stuck in front of a cool girl, our friends, and a damned dart board that holds my fate.

Fuck it.

How bad can my aim be?

I shoot the first dart and I’m immediately met with stifled laughter and snorting from the five assholes behind me. Not only did I miss the dart board, I hit the wall right beside it, lodging a small orange dart on a poster of an old singer from the eighties. I can feel her before I can see her, Cleo claps a hand on my shoulder still trying to hold back her laughter.

“Shut up…” I sigh, looking down at the near snorting girl.

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” She guffaws, letting the laughter consume her fully as she bends over clutching her stomach. I can’t help but to chuckle at the sight of her so tickled at my failure.

We do two more rounds of Cleo winning and me losing so bad that I may have broken a few records for being the world’s worst dart thrower. After the final round of getting my ass handed to me, our friends disperse around the bar. Cleo and I make our way to the pool table a few feet away from the boards. She sets her now watered blue drink behind the pool table and chuckles, looking me over.

“For you to be a big shot, hockey player, your aim is horrible,” she jokes, setting up our game.

“Says the girl who was basically bred to have good aim! I’m sorry my parents aren’t in the Hall of Fame or olympians.”

At this, Cleo grins and shrugs as she pulls out her phone. “True. We can’t all be excellent like me.”

We play four rounds of pool, the end resulting in a kick-ass tie and small videos of the two of us smack talking to each other behind our phones. Don’t let anyone fool you, Cleo Jones is the most competitive woman in the world. She plays dirty and flirts her way to victory.

She winked at me, thus completely ruining my focus and resulting in me losing horrifically in one of our rounds. We’re having so much fun simply being around each other letting our competitive nature take hold that I don’t even notice the amount of people gathered around us until a camera flash causes her to jump.

Cleo looks around the group of students surrounding us and shyly ducks her head away from the stares of the people around her. I’m almost at her side when Georgia pulls her away from the fray of people and seemingly escorts her back to our original booth, leaving me stunned and stuck in place.

I don’t stay frozen for long as I come back to my senses, and I follow them back our booth.

“What was that about?” I try, only to receive a nasty look from Cleo’s blonde friend.

“Too many people and way too many cameras.” Cleo sighs, and then places a hand on Georgia’s as if she’s telling her that she’s fine and can leave. Georgia takes the hint and does just that, stalking toward the dance floor where Ryan and Denver seem to be either arguing or making googly eyes at one another.

I’ll have to ask her about that later, but right now my focus is solely on the whirlwind of a woman in front of me .

One second she’s confident and competitive and the next, she’s hiding in her own little shell like a scared turtle.

“If we’re being technical, Princess, you won our deal,” I say, scooting into the booth beside her, daring to rest my arm on the top of the booth, just shy of her shoulders.

At my words, she looks up at me with a frown. “Am I supposed to tell you to leave me alone? I mean if you insist—"

“No! Absolutely not. How about I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” she echoes, skeptically.

“Mhm… Since you won, I’ll give you my prize of three wishes that can be called upon at any time as long as you don’t wish me away.” I shrug as if my heart isn’t about to burst from my chest.

What if she says no? What if she pushes me away before I even get close?

“Platonic wishes?” she asks, startling me for a second, my palms begin to sweat. Is she considering me?

Instead of showing her just how nervous I am, I feign confidence. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

Cleo turns to me, she looks me over with deadly calculation before sighing, leaning her head back into my arm. My heart beat stutters at the contact but I remain painfully still. There is no way that I’m messing this up.

“Well,” she starts, looking up at me briefly before looking back down at her lap, “my first wish is for you to take me home.”

I’m shocked at her wish but not surprised, I didn’t drink any alcohol since we took my car to the bar. Before leaving, we let everyone know where we're going and that I’d be back later.

I gaze at her briefly only to catch her already looking at me. Throughout the night, she’d had a fair number of drinks but she seemed to sober up a little by the time we made it to my Jeep.

Cleo grins as we make eye contact, a small dimple forms in her cheek for the briefest of moments .

“You could work in film, you know,” she says, her eyes roaming over each of my facial features. My ears burn at the comment and my chest tightens as I focus back on the road.

“It’s a good thing I’m a film major then.” I chuckle as she gasps.

“Oh my God, Shut up! I’m like a psychic or something. Though, you do have a ‘take no bullshit, I’m the boss’ aura when you’re not talking. I thought you were a business major, not gonna lie.” She chuckles and I mimic the action as I pull up to The Sugar Hole, the only donut shop I know in the world that’s open past 1 a.m.

“Business is too serious for me.”

“Hmm…the more you know–” Cleo’s eyes brighten at the sight of our first stop in this short journey. “I thought we were going home!” She beams, nearly opening the door before I can put the car in park.

I chuckle at her eagerness, bringing the car to a safe stop. “I thought you could use a pick-me-up, you looked a little down at the bar before we left.” I shrug, hopping out of the car and nearly running to the passenger side to open it before the eager girl could.

“Thank you, sir,” she babbled in a mock bow. I reciprocate the gesture, grinning like a kid in the candy store.

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

Maybe bringing Cleo to a donut shop late at night was the wrong idea. As soon as we’d enter the pink-lit shop, she runs to the case where all the donuts are held and looks as if she’s going to eat them all before I can make my way over. I pull out my phone and capture the moment before she realizes she’s drooling in front of the sweets and straightens up.

“Asshole.” She rolls her eyes as she points out the many many donuts that she wants to try.

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome! And since you were such a good boy taking your losses in silence, I’ll buy you a donut” she beams.

“Cleo, you’re not buying me a donut,” I say grinning like an idiot as she whips around to look at me with a deep frown.

“And why not?” she challenged, taking a step closer. Is that sweet smell from her perfume? Or is it just her?

I’m so caught up in indulging her sweet scent that I don’t notice her pulling out her wallet to pay. To her dismay, I’m still a “star hockey-player” (her words, not mine) and so I reach over her, thankful for my longer limbs and hand the cashier my card before Cleo can get her own out.

She gapes at me, shocked at how swift she’d been overtaken. I wink at her, cherishing her silent appraisal as she scoffs. We spend our time wisely as we reenter my new truck, a Red Jeep Wrangler, talking about our project and the many things we should be working on this week.

We’re so caught up in each other and our conversation that no one moves to grab a donut. Cleo seems to realize at the same time as me, but when I reach for the box, she smacks my hand away.

I raise an eyebrow at the girl, snatching off my cap and throwing it into the back. “Do you have some sort of donut ritual?” I tease, reaching again only to be swatted away.

“Yes, we must sniff them first and then praise the Donut Gods and then we can eat.” She deadpans.

“I—”

Before I can express any sort of confusion, she bursts into yet another fit of laughter. I think this is the most emotion I’ve seen from her, ever.

“No, Creeper. There’s no ritual. But I do like to record little moments like this, would you be comfortable on camera?” she asks, reaching into her purse, pulling out both her phone and a small camera that I assume she vlogs with.

“Be my guest.”

Cleo takes my agreement with a smile and sets up the small cameras, the only lighting to be shown in the car being the neon pink sign of The Sugar Hole.

“Blake, you are now a friend of mine, how does that make you feel?” she questions me resembling a news reporter as she looks me over.

I smile taking her in; is this what it feels like when someone comes out of their shell? Like a new world is being opened up right before your eyes ?

“I feel like you should hand me a donut.” I joke, giving her grabby hands. The giggle that passes her lips is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, its chaotic yet soft.

“Fine! Only because you’re the reason we’re here. How was your night tonight?” she asks and then hands me the only odd-ball-looking donut in the box. A red maple bacon donut. My eyebrows rocket at the sight of my go-to choice from the shop and I quickly shoot the grinning girl a look.

“How did you—”

“I have a gift,” she shrugs as I graciously accept the sweet treat.

Cleo and I spend so much time joking around in the car, stuck in our own little world that we’re both startled when our phones go off simultaneously.

Our breaths hitch in unison as we notice the time, 2:13 a.m.

Cleo answers her phone first, flinching as loud voices ring out. She stifles a small laugh as she puts the phone on speaker.

“Where the hell are you?! You said you were on the way home, CJ. I’ve been at the bar worried sick about you! Sienna said you never made—”

“I’m in a parking lot,” Cleo cuts the shrieking girl off only for her to scream louder.

“A parking lot!? Oh, my fuck—”

“No no… not like that. Blake is with me,” she tries, cringing at her tone. I wince as Georgia screams again, sounding like a dying cow.

“You’re fucking my best friend in a parking lot?!” Jace is the next voice to break through the speaker, Cleo’s eyes widen at his words and she stammers to come up with something.

I chuckle at her “fish out of water” look and lean across the armrest. “Cupid, if that were happening, we’d be in the house and she wouldn’t be able to answer the phone. Please be serious,” I joke, eyeing the blushing girl.

The line goes silent for a second before chaos ensues.

“I’m going to kill that motherfucker.” Ryan curses.

“Did he say—” Jace tries only for Denver to bark out in laughter.

“Please wear protection…” Georgia sighs as Cleo gasps.

“DON’T WEAR ANYTHING!? GO HOM— ”

“Toodeloo everyone!” I smile deviously hanging up in the middle of Ryan’s shouting.

Cleo rolls her eyes at the action and gets comfortable in her seat.

“You’re an ass.” She chuckles, turning off the camera on the dashboard as I put the car in drive.

“You’re too kind,” I shoot back, smiling at her. And for a brief moment our eyes lock, and previous hope of staying away from her vanishes.

I realize how screwed I am when she looks at me, I can see everything from the deep swirls of the milky way dancing in her iris’s to the warmth of a summer night at the beach within the depths of her pupils.

Cleo is a woman who I’ve only known for two weeks and yet, I find myself shy and awkward around her. I feel contrasted from my usual self in more ways than I can count.

We hold each other’s gaze for so long, I’m afraid if either of us moves, then whatever trance we’re in will break.

My body is compelled to hers like a moth drawn to a flame, it doesn’t resonate that the closer I inch to her, the faster I’ll burn.

Cleo’s lips part slightly, a gleam trickling in those beautifully brown eyes that hadn’t been there before. She can say that she doesn’t want to do anything with me. That she doesn’t want to flirt or be distracted, but her body would never lie.

We’re so close our noses touch, the sweet smell of donuts escape from both our mouths as we breathe each other in. She’s so close, I can practically taste her–

“THROW THAT ASS FOR A DOLLAR!!”

We jump from each other, breaths ragged as Cleo’s phone blares obnoxiously.

What the fuck was that?!

Cleo fishes around for her phone, sheepishly tugging it out of her pocket.

And just like that, I know that the moment is over.