“But then I reminded him that like I always have Blaze’s back, he always has mine,” I continue. “And that smarmy little smile fell off that fucked-up, bruised face.” I shrug, feeling self-conscious.
I don’t think Pandora will think poorly of me for what I’ve done. If anything, I think it’ll get her hot and bothered.
Part of me was—is—ashamed by how much I’d craved the violence. How I’d gone for it without hesitation, how it had felt good and powerful in a way I rarely did. Blaze had grown up with violence; he’s steeped in it in a way I never could be, and he doles it out more casually than I do.
It should’ve been harder for me, who’d grown up being taught kindness and courtesy.
Like when I’d cut Pandora’s chest.
I shouldn’t have done it.
I shouldn’t have jacked off to it last night, either, fantasizing about the taste of her blood on my lips and the slick feeling of it beneath my fingertips. It’s not something I’m going to admit. Not to her, not to Blaze, not toanyone. I’d felt so guilty when I’d finally spilled all over my hand, when I’d had to find tissues in the disaster of my room.
But fuck, I think I’d do it again.
I think Iwilldo it again.
I’m not sure when Pandora got beneath my skin, but now that she’s there, I can’t stop obsessing about her. Just like Blaze, I can’t get her out of my head.
“Randy’s lucky he got away with just a beating,” Pandora says. “Next time, you have to make it more permanent.”
We pull into the parking lot of the restaurant.
“Eh, it was just school clothes. Nothing super important.” Blaze parks the car and turns around to look at me. “Best part was seeing Asch being so badass.”
My cheeks heat up.
It had been a nice feeling, too.
“Of course he’s badass,” Pandora replies. She lets herself out of the car before either Blaze or I have a chance to get out to open the door for her. “I wouldn’t like him if he weren’t.”
I scoff, but she’s not right there to hear it.
I’m not sure what about me she thinks is badass. Cutting her up had been catering to my anger and my kinks alike, and she’d taken care of Declan all on her own. But I should probably take it as a win.
I want to take it as a win.
I get out of the car, too, smoothing self-consciously at my suit. It hasn’t gotten wrinkled during the drive, thankfully, but I feel too warm in it.
I hate wearing suits, but I know that there will be plenty more of them in the future. There are so many things I’m not looking forward to, and this is least among them.
But my future with the Bouchards is set in stone.
“So what’s this place?” Pandora asks. She comes up to me and links one arm with mine, and my stomach heats up.
She came to me first, not Blaze.
Blaze gets on Pandora’s other side and places his arm across the small of her back, like he’s claiming her. Our eyes meet, and I don’t know what to make of his expression.
Heat, desire… possessiveness?
Is he going to shut me out? Or is he going to pull me under right along with him?
“The best French restaurant in Harmony,” Blaze explains. “I hope you have expensive tastes.”
Pandora smiles up at Blaze. “I do! And cheap tastes too, but I always appreciate a well-prepared meal. Papa doesn’t tolerate bad food.”
All I knew growing up was bad food. Not everything cheap had to taste bad, but between myself and my mom…
