The Search for Fireworks (ONGOING)

5 ~ The Couch

The next morning Reilly woke up feeling disorientated. She could vaguely remember falling asleep, but couldn't imagine the couch to be this comfortable. She opened her eyes slowly, closing them against the morning sun coming in through the window. Light snoring drew her attention to the other side of the room. So Reilly propped herself up and looked in the direction of the snoring.

Blake was laying on the couch, his head on the armrest. His left arm and left leg over the backrest. His right arm hanging over the side, his right leg bent over the other armrest. It didn't look comfortable at all.

"Blake?" Reilly whispered, trying to wake him gently, "Blake?"

No response. She got out of the bed, she tripped and fell over when her converse tangled with the blanket. She tried to regain her balance and hopped forward on one foot, before falling onto the couch. Or it would have been only couch if Blake wasn't sprawled over it.

Her body was flush against his, her legs and his leg, her torso flat against his, his mouth an inch away from hers.

Reilly tried lifting herself off him, both arms pushing against the backrest before the couch toppled over. The momentum throwing Reilly off onto the ground, Blake rolling onto her, before the couch flipped back upright.

"Reilly?" Blake asked drowsily from above her, lifting some weight off her with his arms.

"Blake, I'm so sorry," She started rambling, "I was gonna wake you up to sleep in the bed, you looked so uncomfortable, then I tripped over the blankets and fell on you, the couch decided to fall over and..." she breathed in deeply, "I'm just sorry, okay!"

"You tripped and fell on me?" He smirked then.
"Then the couch fell over?" He continued, his hand gently caressing her face along her jaw, she was mesmerized.
"Honey," he whispered, nibbling on her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"If you wanted to be so close to me, all you had to do was ask."

That's all Reilly needed to break the spell, she pushed him off her in one swift motion. Blake sat with his back to the couch, watching her in shock as she ran to the bathroom. The door clicked, as she locked herself in.

He stood up and looked at the scene in front of him, he was indeed behind the couch. Who falls backwards of a couch? He takes in the tangled bedding on the floor, one of a pair of converse sticking out of it. His eyes closed in regret. He knew he crossed a line.

He walked over to the bathroom door and sat down with his back to it.

"I'm sorry, Reilly," he said softly.

Reilly jumped when she heard his voice, he was sitting right behind her against the same door. Her heart still trying to beat itself out of her chest.

She had felt it. The feelings she only read and wrote about. The sparks. The lighting. The fireworks. She cupped her cheek where she could still feel the burning trail he left behind.

He's apologizing for what he said, and she can't bring herself to be mad at him. Yes, he was implying that she was a liar. Yes, he was implying that she was purposely trying to get into his pants. But, those words broke the spell, and she was grateful. The person she was mad at, was herself.

Her mind burned with embarrassment at the thought of how easy it would have been for him to have her. How much she had wanted him to kiss her. There on the motel room floor.

Blake knocked lightly on the door beside her head, breaking her train of thought.

"Reilly?" He asked softly, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered back, taking a deep breath as she gets off the floor. Her breathing normalized, her hands steady. She heard a shuffling on the other side if the door as Blake did the same.

"I'm going to shower," she called, more confident now, "Please don't be in the room when I get out?"

"No problem," Blake murmured just as the showers hum filled the room. He straightened out the bed, moved the couch back to the place it was. He put on a pair of jeans over his boxers and grabbed a pair of sneakers and his phone. He purposely slammed the door as he left.

He took the stairs down to the lobby two-by-two, he dragged his fingers through his hair, his mind racing. When he was laying on top of Reilly, goosebumps ran over his skin. He would deny it to anyone that asked, but he felt something more than just sexual attraction. So, he panicked and he said the unthinkable. He accused her of doing something many girls have tried before. And he regretted it the second the struck look came across her face. He regretted it, even more, when she pushed him of her and ran to the bathroom.

He had to fix this, he knew that much, but how?

"Hi, B's Doughnuts on third. My name is Angela. How can I assist you?" The voice asked from the other side of the line. His plan hinging on this phone call.

"Hello, Angela. Tell me- do you deliver?"

"Unfortunately not, sunshine."

"Would you consider delivering if I gave you an obscene amount of money? I'm just down the street."

"If you're just down the street, why don't you just come on over?" She asked, patience still oozing out of her voice.

"I'm not in a position to leave right now, please help me out," he drawled in his sexiest voice, he looked out of the window, people were walking up and down the street. There was way too many of them, way too many smartphones with cameras.

"Okay, sunshine, just don't advertise us doing this to all your friends."

She took his order and he gave her double the amount she charged him when she delivered less than ten minutes later.