Jacob leans over and talks out of the side of his mouth to Blake. “No backsies. She’s yours now.” I flinch, but Blake beams like he wouldn’t have it any other way. “Working on it,” he tells Jacob, but he’s staring at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. The best part is . . . I don’t mean my looks. I feel like Blake sees my insides—my brain and weirdness—and that’s what he thinks is stunning.
