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And for some reason, I like that.A lot.
“Hey,” I say softly, and she startles. Jumping and spinning so fast that I can’t help but laugh.
“Jesus,” she yelps.
Her eyes flick down to my chest, and I quickly pull the T-shirt on over my head to cover up. While I don’t mind her looking, I’m also quick to consider that waking up in a man’s apartment when you’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours might not be a typical thing for her. In fact, I get the very real impression that most of what we did has never been a thing for her, and I desperately want her to feel comfortable here–around me.
She clearly shut things down last night when I was sitting on the floor next to her and thinking about kissing her.
Got to rein it in.
“Helping yourself to coffee?” I ask, and Ellis slumps, leaning against the counter.
“I feel half-alive,” she admits.
I gesture toward the coffeepot before turning around and grabbing the grounds out of the cabinet. “Then, by all means,” I reply. I set the bag next to her. “We can’t have you dying on my watch. Ryan said we are good for tattoos, but we will have to leave in forty minutes. I don’t feel right about tattooing a dead person.”
She stands up straight, eyes swimming with a question. “Can I shower?”
A crooked smile appears on my face. “Sure. You may smell like Old Spice, though.”
“That’s fine.” She looks down at the coffee pot still in her hand, wondering what to do with it exactly.
I reach out and take it from her, our fingers brushing briefly and sending a jolt of energy through my veins. I try not to acknowledge it.
“Here,” I say, moving to the sink and running the water. “Letmemake this for you. You go get ready.”
She scurries off down the hallway, and I find myself wondering what tattoo she might get.
Simon weaves himself between my legs to remind me of my fatherly duties. I grab his food from under the sink, using the child lock for the cabinet because the creature is smarter than he looks.
After feeding Simon and pouring a cup of coffee, I anxiously set out every option for creamer I have in my fridge. I also grab sugar and honey and two different-sized spoons before making my way back to the bedroom. Digging out a pair of jeans, a clean black T-shirt, and a black hoodie, I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face.
“Have you decided what you’re getting?”
Ellis walks beside me wearing the clothes she wore to the coffee shop yesterday, her Converse tapping the damp street where it must have rained last night.
I can’t wait for it to actually snow. The Midwest is ugly during the in-between.
I open the door to the tattoo shop, gesturing for her to go in ahead of me.
“No clue,” she tosses over her shoulder, “but I have a few ideas floating around in my head. I’m sure I’ll settle on one of them at the last minute.”
“You mean to tell me you’ve had this on your bucket list and you’ve never once thought about what you’d get?” I raise my brows at her, and she glances around the shop, taking in the strange art hanging on the walls, the glass windows toward the entrance, and the wooden bench sitting next to the smallest glass case I’ve ever seen filled with miscellaneous body jewelry.
“It’s a lot of pressure, okay?”
Ryan appears from around the corner, his gold nose ring catching the light as he runs his hand over his cropped hair. His T-shirt reveals the sleeve of tattoos running up his arm, decorating his brown skin with images of a compass, a pirate ship, and a moon reflecting off water.
“Hey, Griffin,” he says, walking around the desk and grabbing my hand, bringing me in, and patting my back once before letting go.
“Still good for tattoos?” I ask, smiling as Ryan’s eyes flick from me to Ellis.
“Yeah. Just you or–” Ryan’s brows furrow. “Oh, sorry. I should introduce myself. I’m Ryan.”
He holds out his hand, and Ellis takes it. “Ellis,” she says. “Finn’s friend.”
His full lips break into a wide smile. “Finn?” he questions. I shake my head, staring at the wooden floors beneath my tennis shoes. I’m so bent out of shape for this girl, and I barely know her. As soon as Ryan gets me alone, I’m going to receive so much shit. All the shit. It’ll be like a cattle farm.
