Page 91 of Asking for Trouble

I watched as he pulled on his own pair of glasses and then lifted the glass over the fire until it glowed. Working quickly, he placed it over the stencil and used an iron tool to lift the soft glass into shape. It was almost hypnotic, listening to him explain the process as he laid out the tricky shape of the heart onto the paper. Fire to paper, sinuous movement against the glass to shape it to his will, and then back to the fire with the next section.

When he finished the heart, he pressed a kiss to my damp neck, sweaty because it was hot near the flame, and asked, “You wanna try?”

I nodded eagerly, accepting the gloves he passed me even though he didn’t wear any. The tubing was so delicate in my hands that it was hard to believe it wouldn’t shatter under the heat. Aaron carefully guided my hand above the flame, showing me how to properly expose the section to the heat.

When it was soft, I laid it down on the stencil and accepted the metal rod to shape the letter E backward into the glass. Aaron marked off where I should make each bend with a pencil mark, and when the glass threatened to collapse, he taught me how to breathe through a blow hose to bring back its shape. I stuck my tongue between my teeth as I bent over the table, so close to the material, I could smell the heat of it perfume the air.

“Perfect,” he murmured as I finished the one letter. “You wanna keep going?”

I did.

He talked me through it, helping me with the end section of the word before I started on “hearts,” and then showing me how to press that word over the existing heart shape to get them to fuse. It was way more difficult than I’d imagined even though I was used to working with my hands. Aaron had to file the glass into sections for me and press blocks of wood to the hot material to cool it rapidly enough to handle. There were no visual cues to tell when the glass was molten enough, so I had to rely on feel and Aaron’s other hand helping me to balance the tube above the flame, but eventually, I got the hang of it. He only had to correct me a handful of times, which I deemed an accomplishment, mostly because he lavished me with praise the entire time.

When we finished molding the lights, I was a sweaty mess, my right arm oddly tired from the strain, but I felt a blazing sense of accomplishment looking at the complex work of art we’d created together. The paper stencil and table beneath were scorched from our efforts, and I was glad for the glove on my hand because otherwise I’d probably have lost a finger.

There was no colour in it yet. He’d explained to me that the process was even trickier, using electricity to insert and burn off the colours inside the tube because neon gases wouldn’t work if exposed to any air. He let me pick out the colours to finish the design later, and he laughed when I didn’t choose blue just to be contrary.

It felt good to create something, but even better to be taught by someone who cared about me. I’d never had a loved one take the time and patience to coach me through learning a new skill, and it made me fall even more in love with Aaron, seeing his gentle leadership. It made sense that Zeus had entrusted the prospects to his care.

“Wow,” I breathed, looking at the electric heart we’d made, knowing it was the perfect emblem for us, Bones and Blue.

I decided to get it tattooed somewhere as soon as I could.

Aaron laughed. “You should see what Eugene does. He’s a proper glass-blower, and I’m just a tube bender. He can make shit so pretty it doesn’t look real.”

“I can’t believethisis real,” I admitted, touching the cool glass. “I have a whole new appreciation for just how much time it must have taken you to make me these so often.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I can move a lot faster when it’s just me, and you were workin’ with only one hand. But yeah, I stayed up late workin’ on these ’cause I knew I wouldn’t sleep thinkin’ and worryin’ about you.”

I sank back into his chest, reaching up to grip his neck so I could bring him close for a kiss. When he pulled away, he gently pulled my protective glasses off and tossed them aside with his own.

“I’m sorry,” I offered. “I just couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Grouch when he was the only person before you to give me a haven and love.”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “How can I be mad when your big heart is one’a the reasons I love ya?”

I grinned against his mouth. “What’re some of the other reasons?”

His grin was devilish. “You sure you feel up to knowin’? I’m more a shower than a teller.”

“I’m sure,” I said, rocking to my toes to nip at his lower lip.

“Well, then.” He lifted me up, walking to the other end of the huge table to set me on the clean surface. “Lie back and close your eyes.”

“Um…”

“Just do it, baby,” he encouraged, leaning over to kiss me until I closed my eyes for him. “Good girl.”

I listened as he moved away and rattled around in some drawers, making a little noise of satisfaction before he came back to my side. Somewhere, music started playing, and “Free” by Ocie Elliot poured through the speakers.

“How’s it feel to be free?” he murmured against my stomach as he lifted my shirt slowly up my belly.

“Beautiful.” I tangled my hand in his hair as he smoothed his hands over my sides, kissing languidly from between my breasts down to my belly button, dipping his tongue inside, before continuing to the band of the boxers.

I jumped slightly when something cool and damp pressed to my skin and moved in smooth, short strokes.

“What’re you doing?” I whispered as I tried not to squirm.

The dual sensation of his warm, open-mouthed kisses and the cool tip of something pressed to my skin made me break into goose bumps.