23. Asch #3
I only know what these things mean because of Blaze, and they still make me nervous.
The first time I’d seen the bill at one of these restaurants, I’d nearly choked, but Blaze hadn’t even glanced at the total before handing over his credit card.
Well. His father’s credit card.
Sometimes I wonder what Blaze would do if he was left to his own devices.
He’s charismatic enough, charming enough, to get what he wants anyway.
I let him confirm to the server that the merlot will be fine, we tell the server which of the menu choices we want, and the server excuses himself from the table.
“You’ll let me taste some of yours, right?” Pandora says to Blaze. “I love steak, but I’m so curious about the vegetarian entree too.”
Blaze purses his lips at her, and I can already see him refusing, the way he always does. Blaze doesn’t share. Blaze covets his own things.
But Blaze relaxes, and says, “Yeah. But only if you share your dessert. I couldn’t decide between the crème br?lée and the ?le flottante.”
He easily could’ve decided to get an extra portion to avoid sharing entirely; the restaurant would’ve accommodated him, regardless of what their typical policies are with the set menu. The fact that he’s willing to trade bites with her has me feeling strange and unsettled.
When did she become someone he’d share with?
He barely even shares with me .
I watch him through narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t backtrack or change his mind.
“Do you have a proper kitchen in your frat house?” Pandora asks. “We could bake some desserts together sometime. River, too. He’s actually decent at cooking.”
“Yeah, we have a kitchen.” I turn my attention to Pandora. “A kitchen you aren’t allowed in after… I don’t know… an incident involving a knife? I’m a little fuzzy on the details,” I drawl.
Pandora waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever. We won’t tell Declan. What would they do if I showed up? Kick you two out?”
Blaze laughs along with Pandora. “Zayden wouldn’t dare,” he says with a smirk. “He’s got such a hard-on for my family.”
He may have a hard-on for Blaze’s family, but that’s not going to exempt me from his displeasure. He couldn’t kick me out, but he can — and probably will — make things hell for me for a few days.
I won’t tell Blaze, of course, because he’d lose his shit and try to fight my battles for me. It’s bad enough that everyone already thinks I’m his bitch. I don’t need to make it worse.
I take a sip of my water, watching the two of them.
They fit together in a way that I can’t explain. They’re both beautiful, of course, and they’re both wealthy and prominent in their own right.
I want to be a part of this, and I am not going to let my dissimilar upbringing keep me from that.
“How many people actually know about your family?” Pandora asks. “My stuffy roommate has no idea who the Pavones are, or she’d have asked to be transferred out. I don’t think Carly or Reaper know either. Well, Carly for sure doesn’t know.”
The mention of Reaper has something hot flaring up in me. I don’t want to think about the way she’d been touching him in the quad even though she’d ended up going with me instead, back to the frat house.
My eyes drift to her chest, to the scabs from the cuts I’d left behind .
Blaze shrugs. “No clue. Some of the brothers, probably, or they wouldn’t have wanted to join Kappa Alpha in the first place. The ones with families in the same line of business.”
“A bunch of sycophants,” I mutter, then I look at her before carefully asking, “Is that why you’re interested in being around Kappa Alpha guys?”
Because she’s interested in the connections she could make, or… Does this have something to do with the girl River had shown us? Rachel Turner? I haven’t been able to find out anything more about her, and as far as I know, neither has Blaze.
The first course shows up, a small plate with two shrimp drowning in a buttery garlic sauce. I glance over at Blaze’s dish, which is a very mini version of ratatouille in confit biyaldi style.
Without asking, Pandora uses her fork to cut a small portion of Blaze’s dish for herself. Blaze takes the fork from her hand, and I relax.
This is familiar. He was putting up a good show earlier, but it does bother him to have somebody sharing his dish.
Then he spears the portion Pandora had cut and holds it up to her mouth.
“You really should ask first,” Blaze says, his lips curled into a reluctant smile.
Pandora smiles back. “When I already know the answer?” She eats directly off the fork, with absolutely no qualms about Blaze feeding her.
My face gets hot, a confusing mixture of jealousy and desire coursing through me. “You should never assume you know any answer when it comes to Blaze,” I tell her, my voice coming out rough.
Pandora gives me a sly look. She pops one of her shrimp into her mouth. I watch the butter glaze her lips, and her tongue darts out to lick it away.
I swallow hard, trying not to think of other things she’s done with her tongue .
“Why wouldn’t I be interested in Kappa Alpha? I went to the party to meet new people, and I met you two.” She smiles at me. “I left an impression on you that day, didn’t I?”
That’s one way of looking at it.
“And you continue to make an impression,” I say.
The server returns with our next course, this time a small soup.
I wonder what it’s like to be a server at a place like this, where it’s required to be nearly invisible yet perfectly present when needed.
I nod in thanks, acknowledging him.
This time Pandora and Blaze got the same dish, so she leans closer to me with her spoon. Her eyes are alight with amusement when she says, “May I, Asch?”
“How polite of you,” I remark. I start to tell her that she can help herself, but then I think of how Blaze had fed her. I use my own spoon to scoop some up, then hold it out to her, hoping that I don’t make an idiot out of myself by spilling it all over her or the table.
She smiles even wider before taking the spoon into her mouth. I don’t know why it’s affecting me so strongly to see her simply take food from me, but my cock twitches in my slacks, and I have to swallow hard again.
“Do you want to try some of this?” Pandora asks, pointing to her soup.
“Are you going to feed it to me?” I ask, trying for cheeky but not quite managing.
Pandora glances at Blaze. “He’ll do it.”
I blink, and my cheeks heat up again. “He’ll do what?”
“Feed you,” Pandora says. She nudges Blaze’s shoulder. “Right?”
Blaze mutters something under his breath, but then he meets my eyes. “You want some of my soup?”
My heart is thudding in my chest at the idea of him feeding me, and it almost rivals the strange feeling I have from having fed Pandora. “Yeah,” I say hoarsely. I want to crack some kind of joke to break this strange tension, but I can’t think of anything to say.
Blaze scoops up some soup—and eats it himself. He does that one more time before he moves the small bowl over to me. “Here. You can have the rest.”
I don’t know why I’m so disappointed, but it floods my emotions, leaving me feeling even more off balance.
“Oh, come on,” Pandora pouts.
Blaze shakes his head. “It would have been awkward. And the soup would spill all over the nice white tablecloth.”
I take the bowl, but the soup inside is tasteless. I finish it off anyway.
I won’t leave myself open to being embarrassed like this again.
I’ll get through dinner and remind myself that whatever is going on between Blaze and Pandora, I’m not really part of it.