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Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Blackmore watching me. He’s migrated to the edge of the couch. His wide-eyed expression is focused and sharp. I tell myself to stop checking his reaction, but I can’t. His eyes gleam with curious intensity, as if he really likes what he’s seeing. Or maybe he’s decided I’m no competition, and he’s congratulating himself on how great he is.
I give him too much space in my head again.
“You made this?” I ask Shane. He’s about my age. I can’t make pancakes, and he created this amazing thing?
Standing beside Blackmore, Shane nods, lips pinched tight to conceal a smile. It breaks through anyway. “You like it?”
“I love it!”
Blackmore huffs and flops against the back of the couch.
Oh. I get it. I’m praising his enemy.
“Wait a minute.” Shane stares at me. “You’re Laurel Halifax!”
Here I thought I was having a good day. I turn the amp off, the right way this time, and offer his guitar to him. “Yes, I am.”
He waves his hands in the most frantic manner. “Keep it. Please. I’m really honored to meet you. Your dad is a legend, and so are you.”
Blackmore frowns, murder written all over his stark eyebrows, and delivers a lightning-fast kick to the back of Shane’s hip. “Could you be any more obnoxious?” He steals a concerned look at me. Blackmore knows I don’t appreciate the attention. Is he trying to protect me? Cute.
Unless, of course, I’m overthinking it.
I shouldn’t be thinking aboutitat all. I should be smiling at him even less.
Hal, who’s been watching the proceedings in silence this whole time, gives me a questioning look. I wipe off my smile and don’t respond.
“It’s kind of funny to be a fan for once,” Shane says. “I apologize.” A slight tint of pink covers the top of his cheeks. He’s downright adorable.
I give myself a few mental slaps. He’s the enemy.
Blackmore’s enemy, not mine, even if Blackmore himself claims otherwise.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” I say to Shane, placing the guitar back into its case. “You’re imagining what would happen if you got The Fox to endorse your brand.”
Hal bursts out laughing. “She got you, Snake Boy.”
I glance at Blackmore. He grins back at me.
“I wasn’t thinking about The Fox, actually.” Shane seems to possess the same unholy amount of confidence as his not-enemy. He takes his wallet out of his back pocket and produces a crisp business card. He offers it to me. “I was thinking about you.”
Once again, I’m the center of attention of all three men. Two men and a cousin. Hal’s look is one of resigned expectation—he expects me to turn Shane down like I do everything and everyone else. Shane’s is the opposite. Blackmore… I forbid myself to look at him, but I feel his eyes on me.
“I’ll think about it.” I accept the card mostly to spite Hal.
“That would be incredible! Between you and Jace— He’s my first official ambassador, and you would be the second…” Shane’s eyes gloss over with a dreamy haze. “We’d be rich in no time.”
“You’re already rich,” Blackmore grumbles behind my back.
I whip around to face him at last. “You’re his brand ambassador?”
Shane responds for him. “Yes. I couldn’t think of anyone better to represent Venom Guitars. Jace is so talented. To be honest, I wish I could play as well as he does.”
“If you really think so, where aremybusiness cards?” Blackmore quips, lounging with an easy grin.
Shane and Hal chuckle, entertained by Blackmore’s reluctance to accept the compliment, but he won’t look me in the eye anymore. He must sense my shock. Shane talked Blackmore into working together with him after everything that happened between the two of them and their girl. Blackmore must love his friend very much to agree to do business with the guy who stole her from him. And his grin, at least right now, is not as carefree as he may believe. It vanishes as soon as Shane starts talking shop with Hal. He’s neck deep in a messy triangle, sacrificing who knows how much of his heart. It’s not fair.
I sit next to Blackmore and pat his shoulder.
