I really needed to take my mind off of Blake. I took a stray piece of paper and a pencil and started sketching. I looked at my sketch and groaned. I had sketched him, shirtless. His eyes were soft and loving, but his face sharp and handsome. I make a couple adjustments and his lips finally achieved kissable. Someone leaned over my shoulder. I scrambled to cover my sketch.

“If you want to see him shirtless all you have to do is ask. He would love for you to sketch him nude.” I looked over my shoulder. “Carston stop. I was sketching. He just so happened to be on my mind.” I said in defense. Carston laughed. “He was on your mind shirtless for a reason. I want to know. Blake won’t talk.” I felt compelled to tell him. “He kissed me.” Carston went from playful to serious. “He kissed you. You two kissed. He didn’t tell me. How was it?” He was just like De'andra, a best friend who wanted all the details.

“Well. . . I was putting my stuff in my locker, and he kind of pounced on me. He pushed me against the locker and kissed me.” I bit my lip. “Ooooh. Was he good? Don’t tell me he was your first kiss.” I laughed at that. “No. I’ve. . . kissed before. And yes he was an amazing.” Carston laughed. “Blake will like to hear those words.” I frowned. “How am I supposed to tell him he’s a fantastic kisser, if I turned him down earlier?” I asked. Carston sat next to me on the bench. “You just tell him.” I groaned in frustration. “He’ll take it as a sign that I want him. I don’t want him. I don’t want anything.” Carston nodded.

“What if I acted as your messenger and you two talk through me?” He offered. I shook my head. “That’s not fair to anyone.” Carston shrugged. “Anything to see my best bud with the woman of his dreams.” I thought to myself. I wouldn’t have to talk to him. He wouldn’t come in direct contact with me. “Fine. Tell him I think he’s an amazing kisser, but it’s not fair.” Carston nodded and walked away. I focused on my sketch. Someone walked toward me. I flipped the paper and looked up to see Blake. “So, what’s not fair?” I wanted to smash my head in a wall. I should have expected this. “Well, it’s not fair that you’re kissing me. I don’t want you. You’re making it hard to think.” I confessed.

I started sketching on the blank side of the paper. I was drawing a picture of De petting a dog on this one. “You draw?” I nodded, but scooted away from him. “I heard that you drew me shirtless.” I was going to kill Carston. He would never see another day when I got my hands on him. “Yes I did. Do you want to see it?” I flipped to the paper and passed it to him. He inspected the picture. “Do I really look that lean? I can’t be.” He pulled me to the back. He stood in front of the mirror. “How? You got me to a tee.” He took his shirt off. I turned around. I did not need him to fuel my imagination.

“Put your shirt on!” I squealed. Blake purposely walked into my line of sight. “How’d you know what I look like shirtless? Have you been fantasizing about me?” I cleared my throat. “No. You happened to be on my mind, so you came out on paper.” I got up to grab the paper. Blake pulled me into him. I looked down, but only saw the planes of his chest.

He lifted my chin with a finger. I looked him in the eyes. He kissed me, still looking me in the eyes. I closed my eyes. He still tasted like mint. Blake’s hands wrapped around my face. My hands found his chest. I pushed him away softly. “No.” I breathed. Blake frowned. “Please.” He tried to plead with me. I shook my head. “Jessamine. I want you.” I shook my head again. “You only want me how a man needs a woman. You're horny. Find someone else.” I broke our embrace and grabbed the paper. Should I quit? No, my inner self snarled. Right! I shouldn’t let him affect me like this. I rung things up and cleaned up. I avoided Blake at all costs.

I moved to leave to the back, but Carston grabbed my arm. “Blake tells me you're avoiding him.” I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I am avoiding him.” I yanked my arm out of his hand. “He wants to know why.” Carston added, clearly waiting for  the juicy details. “Because he’s annoying me. I don’t want to hurt him, but he keeps pouncing on me like I’m open. He has to respect my boundaries.” I stormed off.