Blake sucked back half a cup of coffee and then tossed the Styrofoam cup into the trash. The first part of the meeting was a blurry haze of post-come fatigue, and the beginning of the second half was lost in finishing Seven’s book. He’d found himself intrigued by the way she’d weaved the lives of two very different people together, how she played off their strengths and weakness, how against all odds she brought them together and made it seem believable. Even if it was nothing more than make-believe. She was a talented writer.
And it left him feeling stupidly hopeful.
He glared at the cup in the trash, his gut still tied in knots since they’d been together on the roof. No one had ever done anything like that for him before. Given herself so completely to him, no walls, no pretense, simpl
