"Not that my opinion matters, but I think it's awesome." I waggled my eyebrows over at Slim, referring to the ugly shit Blake had been cawing at. He waved his fork-less hand in my direction. He was shaking his head, still tearing away at the baked potato he'd been eating. "Sorry," I apologized, looking over at Blake. Slim tipped his head back and laughed, loud, pulling the sheet of paper he'd been shoving into Blake's face away. I-who had a hummus sandwich an inch away from my face-choked on air, right before gasping, "That's what she said," like there was a fire beneath my ass. "Get that ugly shit out of my face," Blake snapped at Slim. That suddenly sounded like way more of a threat that I hope he'd intended it to. "Sooner or later you'll figure out that eventually I find out everythin', Ritz." He leaned forward over the counter, elbows propped up on the edge. There may have been a gulp that was processed in my throat.
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