Their Little White Lie
Blaze went ahead and refilled my glass.
“Blaze, I asked if you like her.”
“What do you think?” Blaze asked, calm.
He was smiling, but it was different. There was pain nestled in his expression.
To his question, I only shrugged.
“I’m here with you, so tell me what you think,” Blaze said again.
He was pushing me to say something.
I swallowed. “You’re figuring it out,” I said.
I settled for a safe answer.
“Whatever you say, Pookie—sorry, Sabrina.”
Bab Populer