“Pressed flowers or photos are more traditional, but alsoless meaningful, less permanent,” Blaze says. His hand is still on her thigh, even when the light turns green and we start moving again.
“Nothing wrong with a good photo, but anyone can keep a photo.” Pandora sets her hand on top of Blaze’s. “I wouldn’t want to bebasicor anything like that.”
Blaze laughs again.
I think this is the first time Blaze hasn’t tried to get the woman to pay attention to me instead of him.
I don’t know what to make of it because I’m fucking jealous.
The worst part is, I’m not sure which of them I’m jealous of.
Am I jealous of Blaze, who’s able to get her attention and keep it so easily? Or am I jealous of Pandora, who has Blaze’s? I’m not used to feeling left out, especially when I’m having such a conflicting, complicated reaction to all of this.
One, Blaze is focused completely on Pandora.
Two, they easily let me fall out of the conversation like I’m not even there. I wonder if that’s what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life as Blaze’s bodyguard, where whoever he’s with pretends I don’t even exist.
Three, what happens when he really does find someone for himself? Will he finally drop me because I’m no longer important?
My stomach is in knots.
“You okay back there?” Pandora suddenly asks. “Did all this talk of blood and bones make you squeamish?” She places her hand on her chest, drawing attention to the very visible scabs. “You didn’t strike me as a guy with a weak stomach.”
“Because I’m not,” I reply.
The abrupt attention doesn’t unknot my stomach, and it doesn’t even ease my jealousy. I know it’s ridiculous to feel left out, especially with her trying to draw me back into their conversation, but I’m the third wheel, the afterthought.
“You should have seen… Okay, this was back in our last year of high school,” Blaze says, all charm like he always is. “There was this guy who got it into his head that I was his rival or whatever. Honestly, Icouldn’t even remember his name. One day, the dude rigs my locker to explode ink all over me.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “Don’t tell that story, Blaze.”
Pandora meets my eyes, and her grin turns sly. “You absolutely should tell that story.”
Blaze winks at me through the rearview mirror, and I mentally groan because I know he’s going to plow on.
“So I’m standing there, my face covered in ink, my nice shirt and slacks ruined.”
“I’m trying to keep my cool, and I repeat, I had no fucking clue who did it because I couldn’t even remember the guy.”
Pandora’s smiling. “You destroyed him, right?”
“I wanted to, yeah. But I was busy cleaning up, and I couldn’t think of a single person with a grudge against me.”
Because there hadn’t been a single person. There had been alotof people who’d had it out for Blaze, but there hadn’t been many people who would’ve had the balls to set up a prank on him. It had made it relatively easy to narrow down who had actually done it.
“Then two hours later, after I’d showered at the gym and was getting changed, I hear sobbing. I look up, and Asch is dragging in some guy who I swear I’d never seen before. Or maybe I just couldn’t recognize his face at that point, I don’t know; it was swollen and bloody.” Blaze sounds absolutely jovial about all of this.
Pandora giggles too. “Oh my god. Did Asch?—”
“Yep. Beat him up. Made him get on his knees in front of me and apologize to me.” Blaze smiles at me via the rearview mirror. “I still don’t fucking know his name, but I know Asch has my back.”
I’d been so pissed that I hadn’t even waited for his usual demand to take care of it. I’d just acted, and I don’t regret it. Blaze had had a hard time getting all of that ink off of him, and his clothes had been trashed.
“His name was Randy, and he threatened to sue me later,” I say.
It wouldn’t have helped. It’s not like we had much of anything back then for him to suefor.
It’s not like I have much of anything right now either.
