23. Asch #2
“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, I couldn’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 a lot of 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 sue for .
It’s not like I have much of anything right now either.
“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 to anyone .
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 I will do 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…
I swallow a lump in my throat. I haven’t texted her today. I’ve been too worried about everything else, and there’s no telling how she’s doing.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t left New Valence for school. For all that she’d given me her blessing, I know another three years without having me at home to help is going to be difficult for her.
I realize that Pandora and Blaze have continued to chat about food while I zoned out, and I pay attention to the conversation again as we get to the door of the restaurant. I release Pandora’s arm so I can open it for them, stepping out of the way so they can go inside before I follow them in.
The hostess finds our reservation and doesn’t even seem perturbed at seeing three of us together like this. If she’s wondering about this strange date that features three people, she doesn’t say anything.
Will it one day be four of us, with River too? Will it seem less strange then, without me as the obvious third wheel?
As we walk to our table, the hairs rise on the back of my neck as I take in the sheer opulence.
There’s a crystal chandelier hanging overhead.
Every table has a neatly pressed white tablecloth and a small vase with real flowers.
The other restaurant goers are all dressed in clothing more expensive than mine.
Blaze and Pandora fit right in.
They make such a hot couple.
Where the hell do I fit in?
We sit down at a round table, Pandora in the middle. She seems delighted by the decor, which imitates a French castle.
“Wow. I hope every dish tastes as good as this place looks,” Pandora says.
The hostess smiles at her. “I personally think it does. Your server will be right with you.”
We’re alone then, in our private corner. Blaze must have paid extra to ensure we have one of the more private areas, although the way the restaurant is laid out, most of the tables feel isolated. It’s the lighting and the angles, I realize, designed to create the illusion of intimacy.
Pandora leans closer to me, and I tense up until she presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Relax, Asch. Nobody’s going to slice your hamstrings just for being here,” she says.
Is it that obvious even to her that I don’t belong here?
Or is it especially obvious that I don’t?
I force a smile at her. “I didn’t think they would,” I say, as though I have every right to be here even though I know that my credit card would decline if I tried to pay for a single drink tonight. I couldn’t afford this place in my wildest dreams, left to my own devices.
What will I do to impress my own dates when Blaze finally focuses on someone for himself?
What will I do if that woman is Pandora?
Blaze glances at me. “Why would they give you trouble? You fit right in.”
Do I, though? I feel like everyone can see at a glance that they can see the two-digit balance in my bank account.
Either way, even though my brain is insisting that I’m the third wheel on this particular date, they’re both actively including me. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Maybe this really is like it usually is, except Blaze and I are a little more invested in Pandora than we generally are in a woman.
It’ll pass quickly, then it’ll be back to just Blaze and me.
Except I’m not sure that’s what I actually want.
The server arrives before I have to give an answer, introducing himself and providing a list of the specials for the evening.
“And what would you like to drink?” he asks, his gaze on me first like he can see right through me.
“Water, please,” I tell him politely.
Blaze scans the wine list. “And whatever wine you recommend. A bottle for the table. ”
Even though we’re all underage, the server doesn’t ask to see our IDs.
“For tonight’s prix fixe menu, we have a vintage merlot that pairs exceptionally well,” the server says. “But I can ask the sommelier to give specific recommendations, if you’d prefer.”
Vintage merlot . Prix fixe .