Page 26 of Blue

Oh no, not that. Keeping Blue away meant I wouldn’t see him either.

“Blue, I love you, but your drama won’t help Kiss. “

He strode toward the door and paused with his hand on the knob. “I know.”

“Wait.” I rushed across the room. I didn’t touch him, afraid he’d pull away from me again. He stared into my eyes, and something inside me broke. “It was my fault.”

He touched my cheek. “You don’t get to own this one. I fucked up.” His hand fell away. He walked out the door and jogged down the steps.

Not even the pressure in my head could drown out the sound of his bike firing. The pipes roared, and he left. Emotions clawed up my chest and lodged in my throat. I tried to swallow around the lump.

I closed the door and turned to Jazzy. “Itismy fault. I keep pushing him.”

Jazzy leaned against the kitchen counter. “Blue isn’t a fighter. This” —she wiggled her finger between me and the bathroom— “this isn’t Blue. He laughs, he jokes, he just doesn’t chase girls. Now, I find out he has a crazy fixation on you, and he’s punching holes in my bathroom wall.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but we’re not fucking. We’re close, but just friends.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were on the couch. Just talking.” I chewed on my lip. “Jazzy, he’s everything to me. Every. Fucking. Thing.” I tapped my chest with every word. “I think about him all the time. I know I’m a mess, but I wanted to kiss him. It seemed like he was going to kiss me, and then he just snapped.” I couldn’t keep tears from filling my eyes.

I grabbed the blanket, wrapped it around my shoulders, and curled into the corner of the couch to cry. Jazzy joined me.

“Listen, you have one focus, and that is getting clean. Whatever problem Blue has, you can’t make it your problem.”

Just because I understood where she was coming from, didn’t mean I agreed with her. For months, Blue had been there for me. Even if he didn’t feel the same about me, I would be there for him. If friendship was all I could have, it was more than enough and still more than I deserved.

While the new phone charged, I rested on the couch, and Jazzy worked on her laptop. My stomach seemed to calm down, and I ate some crackers.

I thought about black, and I worried about Blue.

“You said Blue doesn’t chase girls, but is he close to anyone at the MC?” He could feel about someone else the way I felt about him.

Jazzy glanced up from her computer. Her shoulders relaxed with a gentle exhale. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s closest with me. He gives me shit, and I give him shit. He rides with Cruz most of the time.”

I glanced down at the phone in my hand.

She stood, came over, and sat next to me on the couch. “Kiss, I’m with Rogue. What I have with Blue is completely different. We tease and banter, and most of the time it’s completely inappropriate. But I can absolutely promise you that there is no sexual chemistry between us. He’s the same with all the girls.”

Over the months, Blue had rented me motel rooms when I didn’t have anywhere to stay. He never made a move.

We crashed at Indulgence. He never made a move.

I’d ridden on the back of his bike. Nothing.

I’d strutted around in a towel, flirted, and gave the sleepy come fuck me eyes. According to Jazzy, he friendzoned all the girls. Maybe there was more to his friendship with Cruz. Maybe Blue was lowkey vibing on him. “Is Blue gay?”

Jazzy didn’t immediately refute the idea. Her head tilted. “Honestly, I don’t know. Cruz is fucking crazy. I think he’d fuck anyone as long as it felt good. But I don’t get that vibe off Blue.”

I thought about the things Blue had said to me. About how he couldn’t get out of his head. Blue was like an open book with blank pages. He smiled, laughed, and did favors for friends. He didn’t seem to have enemies. Everyone liked him. But no one really knew him. No one knew his story.

“What about his family?”

She shrugged and stood from the couch. “He never talks about them.”

“He’s never told me about them, either.” But I’d shared everything about my mom and her addiction. Mine and Blade’s mom popped pills like Skittles.

At least Sherry stuck around for Blade. My mom chose drugs over me. Although Blade had a dick of a father. I had a good dad, but looking back, I couldn’t call him a good parent. I’d ditch school, and he’d tell me not to get caught. I smoked weed. He’d tell me to get it from Razor. Back then, Blade’s dad was prez of the Hellers. He might have been a dick, but he had all the good shit.

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