Vex barks out a laugh.“Outside the toilets?”His voice is full of amusement.
The smile slips from Tessa’s face, and she glances over at me, her eyes telling a different story.“See you around.”
I watch as she walks away, and once she’s far enough out of earshot, I turn to Vex, slapping his chest with a playful slap.“That was rude.”
“What?”Vex looks between Blade and me, his expression darkening.
“She likes you,” I say, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by his reaction.
Vex’s eyes bulge.“She does not.”
I give him an appraising look, shaking my head with a smirk.“Men can be so stupid sometimes.”I walk back to the table, feeling a little lighter.
Blade sits down next to me, but Vex leaves the bar.
I glance at Blade, the curiosity creeping in.“I hope that wasn’t because of me?”
Prophet chuckles from across the table, his voice light with humor.“No, it’s because of Vex.”
Blade slides my credit card back across the table to me.“This one was on me.”
I shake my head, pushing it back toward him.“No, that’s not what we agreed on.”
He nods, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.“You can get the next one.”
A flutter of butterflies stirs in my stomach at the thought of another date, another chance to spend time with him.Quietly, I murmur, “Okay.”
Blade winks at me, and I swear those butterflies in my stomach take flight, tumbling around in a storm.
To calm the rush of emotions swirling inside me, I ask, “How did you get the name Blade?”
Without missing a beat, he reaches behind him, pulls out a knife, and holds it out to me.I look down at it, my breath catching for a moment.The craftsmanship is undeniable.The blade is sharp, gleaming with intricate patterns etched across its surface, swirling and twisting as if something ancient, something from a time long past.
I can feel the weight of it as I take it from him, the handle solid in my palm, a perfect fit.It’s made of dark and light striped material, bone or horn, maybe.It’s smooth, the curves flowing seamlessly from one to the other.The black-and-white stripes almost seem to dance as my fingers trace them, hypnotic in their elegance.It’s more than just a weapon.It’s art, pure and simple.Every detail, curve, and line are crafted with such care, and I can’t help but admire it.
“I made it,” Blade says, his voice low, but there’s a hint of pride in it.
I blink, my mouth hanging open for a moment.“It’s beautiful.”
He holds out his hand, and I reluctantly pass the knife back to him, feeling the loss of its weight in my palm.“Do you make many of them?”I ask, curiosity slipping into my voice.
“Not really.Why, do you want one?”he responds, his tone light but with that underlying hint of challenge.
My face heats as I blush, and I feel a little silly admitting it.“You’re going to think this is nerdy, but I whittle.”
“Whittle?”he asks, clearly intrigued but a little confused.
I rush to explain, my words tumbling out faster than I intend.“I carve things.It keeps me busy when I’m watching TV or listening to a podcast, so I don’t bite my nails.”
Blade slips the knife back into its sheath, then reaches for my hand, his gaze focused on my nails.“You don’t look like you bite your nails.”
I can’t help but laugh—the sound light and a little nervous.“That’s because I whittle.”I smile at him, the moment feeling oddly comfortable despite the strange conversation.
“I’ll make you one,” Blade says, his voice steady, but there’s a glint of something in his eyes.
“Wait!”Ranger and Hollywood both say, their voices are sharp with a mix of surprise and urgency.
Ranger doesn’t hesitate.“You promised me one.”
