“Yeah.”
He sits, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely. Without the constant humor, he looks different. Still handsome, still easy in the way he carries himself, but older somehow. More dangerous. More like the kind of man who earned a cut beside men like Cobra. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says. That surprises me. Not the words. The simplicity of them.
“Thank you.”
He nods once, then looks toward the door like he’s checking the hall before continuing. “He’s not mad at you.”
I look down immediately. “That’s not what it feels like.”
“I know.”
“He left.”
“Yeah.” Blaze exhales slowly. “Because if he stayed right then, he was either going to scare the shit out of you or tear the clubhouse apart looking for something to kill.”
My throat tightens. “That’s not better.”
“No,” he says. “It’s just true.”
I wrap my arms loosely around myself.
Blaze watches the movement but doesn’t comment on it. “I haven’t known Cobra his whole life,” he says after a moment. “But I’ve known him long enough.”
I look up. “Savage Knights?” I ask.
His mouth twitches faintly. “Yeah. Back when we were all dumber, meaner, and a lot less charming.”
“You were less charming?”
“Hard to believe, I know.”
A tiny laugh slips out. Relief. Just a little.
Then his expression settles again. “When I met him, he was the most dangerous man I’d ever seen,” Blaze says. “Not because he was loud. Not because he was trying to prove shit. Most guys who want you to think they’re scary make a lot of noise.”
I think of Cobra. Silent. Still. Watching.
“Cobra didn’t,” Blaze continues. “He’d stand there saying nothing, and every man in the room knew if things went bad, he’d be the last thing they saw.” My chest tightens. “He still is,” Blaze says. “Most dangerous man I know.”
That should scare me. It doesn’t. Maybe that says something about me. Maybe something that should worry me more.
“But you changed something,” Blaze adds.
My eyes snap to his. “I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I barely know him.”
Blaze huffs softly, but not with amusement. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t work on normal timelines.”That sounds painfully true. “He doesn’t let people close,” Blaze says. “Not like that. He doesn’t let women sleep in his room. Doesn’t watch them breathe like he’s counting every second just to make sure the world didn’t cheat him. Doesn’t talk in full sentences at dinner unless he’s either threatening someone or…” He trails off, then shrugs. “Or you’re there.”
My throat feels tight again. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it tonight.” The words echo something Brooke might say. Maybe that’s why they land. Blaze leans back slightly, some of the familiar light creeping back into his face. “He’s a good guy.” I lift a brow. He points at me. “Don’t tell him I used those exact words. He’ll get moody.”
“He’s not already?”
“He’s always moody. Different flavor.” Despite myself, I smile. “He’s a good guy,” Blaze repeats, softer now. “Just…don’t hurt him. He won’t know what the fuck to do with that.”
