Blaise blinked his eyes as he left his bedroom and was greeted by Skye's tight ass. Her yoga pants hugged her cheeks in the most perfect way; although the sight of it didn't elicit any feelings. Not anymore. Nevertheless, it wasn't the worst thing to look at, so early in the morning. As he passed her, he playfully slapped her ass. "Mornin' Mouse."
Skye raised herself again, fluently moving into another yoga pose. "Morning!"
He walked over to the kitchen, where a smoothie was already waiting for him. Bringing the glass to his lips, he turned around. Like every morning, his presence didn't bother Skye and she calmly completed her yoga session.
He made two grilled cheese sandwiches and took the plates to the dinner table. By now, she was sitting on her knees; her upper body bent backwards while her hands were resting on her heels. Her soft purple hair was like a waterfall pooling around her feet. The countless earrings were clinking when she sat up straight and got up to sit down next to him.
He was probably the only person on earth who voluntarily lived with his ex. It had been a year since they had broken up amicably. Without drama, without tears. He told her he considered her more like a friend than a lover, and she had felt the same about him.
There had been no hard feelings, and things had gone back to normal immediately. Before they started dating, they had been best friends for years. They had been so close that Blaise believed he felt more than friendship alone, but in the end he was proven wrong.
Mouse was the most relaxed person he had ever met. He couldn't remember if they had ever been in a fight, and he knew her for over ten years. When their relationship had ended, it didn't even occur to him that it might be weird to keep living together. They were perfectly in sync; they sensed each other's needs as if they were telepathic. There had been no need to live separately. He liked having her around and since they were just friends, neither of them had felt the urge to kiss the other.
"You going to the hospital?" she asked, starting to eat her sandwich.
Blaise glanced at the clock. In less than 30 minutes the visiting hours would start. It wasn't like he hadn't been able to go earlier; two prospects had stood guard all night, but he didn't want to show the others how shaken up he was about the whole situation. "Yea, you need a ride?"
She shook her head. "There won't be a puppet show until Friday."
Skye was a volunteer for an organisation that organized kids entertainment in hospitals. She was involved with it for as long as Blaise could remember, and it was one of the many things that made her so special.
"They don't know when he can go home yet, right?"
Sadly, Blaise shook his head. His brother had been shot in the chest two days ago. They didn't even know who had done it. It was gnawing at him; he wasn't used to not knowing where the threat was coming from.
"Poor guy. If he's still there by Friday, I'll drag him to the show."
Blaise laughed quietly. "I think he would be happy with a bit of a distraction."
He could already picture Barnes sitting between all the little ones. Most of the puppets shows Sky wrote herself. She practiced them at home, and most of the time, he was the one who would tell her if her jokes were too lame. By now, she was so skilled she barely needed his feedback.
Blaise grabbed his plate, put it in the dishwasher and put on his shoes and kutte. "I'm heading out." He kissed her cheek and grabbed his keys and wallet.
"Give Barnes a bear hug from me!"
"He won't expect any less," he winked. "If you're bored, you should stop by."
"I wish I could, but Max claimed my whole afternoon. Can't think of anything more fun than tutoring that kid in calculus."
With a smirk, Blaise shook his head and headed out. His grin faded the moment he stood outside. The weather was terrible. It was raining like hell, the sky was lighting up and there was a strong wind blowing. For a moment he considered changing his shirt for something warmer, then he shook off the cold. It was only a short ride to the hospital.
. . .
Blaise was regretting his decision already as he approached the hospital. He was soaking wet, even his boxers felt sticky. There wasn't even a dry piece of cloth left to wipe the drops from his cheeks. With a grumpy face he walked over to the elevator. He pressed the button impatiently.
It was quiet in the building; he was the only one entering the elevator. Pressing the button for the third floor, he leaned against the wall, waiting until the light for the first floor switched on. The door slid open.
Blaise glanced briefly at the newcomer, and tensed when he saw the man's kutte. The two stared at each other; a thousand different thoughts crossed his mind. Had it been the Warriors who had gunned down Barnes? Was that guy here to finish the job? Blaise's hand moved to the gun behind his waistband.
"You gonna put a bullet in me, or do you think we're gonna survive sharin' an elevator for a few seconds?" the man asked. His voice sounded a bit mocking.
Uncomfortably, Blaise shoved his foot across the floor. As indifferently as he could, he shrugged his shoulders. The man stepped inside, pressing the button for the fourth floor. Blaise's hand didn't move away from his gun, and the stiff movements of the other told him he was also on guard, ready to pull a weapon.
It felt like these were the longest seconds of his life. The doors closed painfully slow. Although Blaise pretended to look at them, he was actually studying the other biker from the corner of his eye.
He wasn't wearing a prospect patch. Although he was from Bridgewater, Blaise doubted he had ever seen him before. He estimated they were around the same age. However, the way his muscles tensed beneath his tattooed skin and the alert look in his eyes, told Blaise he shouldn't take him for a rookie.
The tension between them was palpable and almost visible. Blaise was aware of his heavy breathing, of every heartbeat. Man, how long would it take before the elevator reached the next floor?!
As if the elevator couldn't bear their tension any longer, the small cabin shook suddenly. Blaise's shoulder slammed against the wall, and the Warrior grabbed the railing on the wall to keep himself from falling.
The elevator stopped moving.
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Blaise grunted. His eyes flashed to the biker, who stared coldly at him as if he had been the one stopping the elevator.
This could only happen to him. Being stuck in a fucking elevator with his arch enemy.