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"Not that you care," I tease back.
"Yeah. Of course not." She smooths her dress. "Who was it?" When I don't respond, she motions to the stereo.
"Artist client confidentiality."
"Tease."
Fuck yeah. "And that's a bad thing?"
That gets her chest flushing red. She still manages to hold my gaze. "Don't make me beg."
So much for a safe topic. There's no way I can handle her begging. Not right now.
I turn back to the road. "What's his name?" I don't forget my regular clients' names, but I don't recall their professions either. Rock star, secretary, bartender, CEO—it's all the same to me. Skin is skin. Ink is ink. "Joel Young. He's a regular."
Her eyes go wide, but she nods like this is no big deal.
"And Ethan Strong. And his girlfriend."
"A couple's tattoo?" She lets out a long sigh. "That's sweet."
No, but it is sweet. "I could introduce you next time he comes in."
"No way," she squeals. It's a rarity for her.
Fuck, the things that excitement in her eyes does to me...
I'm not going to survive the drive at this rate.
"I'm sure he'd offer tickets," I say.
Her eyes go wide. "Really?"
"Backstage passes even."
"No fucking way." Her voice rises to a squeal. She claps her hands together. "You wouldn't tease me?"
Fuck yes. Lose the panties if you want to see how badly. "Not about this."
"Em would kill me if I went without her."
"So go with her."
"But..." Kaylee tur
ns to me. Her green eyes fix on mine. They fill with earnest affection. "You'd have to come. Or it would be too much fun. Really, Brendon. Who would complain the music is too generic?"
"Anyone with taste."
"Anyone who's a judgmental jerk?"
"And your comments on Die Hard?"
"I like Die Hard. It's that third one where it gets iffy."
"Not that you get judgmental."
She laughs. "Never." Kaylee leans down to place her purse on the floor. There's no frustration in her eyes. She's just happy. "What was the couple's tattoo?"
