ASHTON
It’s been so long since I’ve heard Blaze laugh like that.
Fuck.
I press my back against the wall, tilting my head up, staring at the ceiling like it’ll hold me together, like it’ll stop the ugly, twisting thing in my chest from unraveling all over the goddamn floor.
I should be okay with this.
I knew.
I knew Blaze loved Luther before I ever touched him. I knew he was the first person Blaze ever looked at like that, the first person he ever fought for with something other than his fists.
I knew—and I still let myself love him anyway.
I still let myself hope.
Because sometimes, he looks at me like that. Sometimes, when we’re alone, when he’s tired and wrecked and mine, it feels like maybe, just maybe, I’m not just something he settled for.
That maybe I could be more than ju
