Page 25 of Marked By Blaze

“Let’s find out.”

We walk to the counter to unpack the items, and I smile when I see the egg benedicts with a side of avocado toast, crispy bacon, and fruit. “Not many people know that I hate bananas,” I tell him, taking out the smoothie bowl. “When I was young, my mother would force me to eat one with breakfast every morning and scold me when I got sick. I left home the second I turned eighteen and moved into this place. I can’t believe it’s been two years already; I feel like I’ve been living alone longer…”

My voice trails off when I turn around and see the fury burning in his eyes. “They were cruel to you.”

My eyes widen in alarm, and I shake my head furiously. “Oh, no. Please don’t misunderstand them. They loved me and took great care of me, but I was just a difficult child to raise. My…looks stood out, and my mother was always worried I’d get bullied. It wasn’t their fault, they just wanted what was best for me.”

“It wasn’t yours either.”

I chew on my lip, trying to think of how I can lighten the mood. Sure, my parents and I aren’t as close as most, but that’s because I haven’t needed them in a long time and being around too much always seems to make my mother uncomfortable. At some point in my childhood, they left me to my own devices, and when I grew up, I made no effort to bridge the gap between us. I’m closer to my father than my mother, but he’s always been fairly content to go along with whatever my mother wants.

“How about we push that to the side and add it to the list of things we never need to revisit and focus on breakfast instead? I can apply more cream on your shoulder when we’re done.”

“Fine.”

Blaze nods, but it’s clear in his eyes that he’s not going to let it go forever. We warm up the food and settle down to eat, and it all feels so cozy. Not for the first time, I question why I ever fought this. Why I couldn’t love myself enough to allow myself to have this.

“You still haven’t told me how you hurt your shoulder,” I say, waving my fork at him.

“One of those…issues I had to deal with last night. Someone got lucky with a pocketknife.”

“Do you get hurt often in your work for the club?”

He smirks ruefully. “It’s not unheard of for an enforcer like me to end up with the occasional scrape or bruise. It comes with the job. But it’s been a long time since I let anyone get the best of me.” He reaches forward and takes my hand, studying my fingers as one might examine a rare jewel. “Last night was no exception. You don’t need to worry. I’m good at what I do, and I’m careful. I wouldn’t risk not coming home to you now that you’re mine.”

I blush fiercely when he brings my fingers to his lips. I never expected to see this side from a rough man like him. Before meeting Blaze, I knew a bit about the Steel Rebels. Almost everyone has heard of the name, and nothing good ever accompanied it.

Maybe they are just harmless misunderstood men who love bikes and are capable of romance after all. People just label them as outlaws because they’ve gotten to know one of them personally. Blaze would never hurt anyone. Just as the thought pops in, I am reminded of how James was flung across the hallway like someone would toss away a rag doll.

Okay, Blaze would never hurt anyonewithout good reason. With James, he was just protecting me.

He’s been nothing but sweet and gentle to me from the moment we met. I realize that I have fallen for this man. It’s hardly surprising. What is surprising is that the feeling doesn’t make me want to run off like it would have a couple of days ago. Instead, I welcome it as I flash him a smile. “The food is getting cold,” I tell him, nodding at his plate. “You know what I like, but I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Your favorite meal, and don’t say it’s fried chicken and beer.”

“Okay then, I won’t say,” he responds, and I laugh, getting back to my breakfast, and we settle on small chatter. I offer to do the dishes since he bought us breakfast. Blaze leans against the kitchen counter and watches me handwash the dishes. I can feel the weight of his gaze, leaving a trail of heat everywhere they touch. The now familiar tingle between my legs builds, and I shift uncomfortably, set on ignoring it. There is no way I’ll get to work today if I encourage the man any further.

“You can make us more coffee,” I tell him, locking my legs together to ease the ache between them. How I went from someone who had never even had their first kiss to a bit of a sex addict in a matter of days is a mystery to me.

Get a grip, Ingrid!

“Coffee isn’t good for you,” he says, but he turns toward the coffee maker anyway.

“I know. The ground coffee beans are in a container in the…” My voice trails off when he reaches for the middle drawer and pulls it open. I watch with surprise as he reaches behind the tea bags I got from my boss and jar of sugar and baking supplies to grab the container.

He turns around to find me staring at him with surprise. He must’ve looked around while I was in bed. How else would he have known the exact spot where I keep the coffee grounds? It doesn’t bother me that he would look, so I push it aside, turning back to the dishes.

“You alright?” Blaze asks, glancing over at me and raising a single brow before starting on the coffee.

“Yeah, I… Oh, the coffee pot is a bit old and temperamental, so you should—”

Blaze taps it on the side—the exact thing I always do to get it started—and watches with disdain as it immediately starts. “You shouldn’t have to go through all this trouble to make coffee,” he says with a shake of his head. “If only it wasn’t so hard to find this model, I would have replaced it already.”

I drop the wet sponge and plate I’m holding, the noise drawing his attention back to me.Those eyes, I think. A beautiful green, and yet dark like the night, they are beautiful…and dangerous.

“It’s you,” I whisper for the second time that morning, hurt and a bit of fear spreading through me. I chuckle, the sound empty of mirth and almost hysterical.

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