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She nods. "What kind of help do you need?"
"Another artist."
"Not my expertise."
"If Leighton decides to apprentice, we'll need someone to take her job."
"You want me working the front desk?"
"Why not? You're there all the time now." Not lately. She's avoiding me as much as I'm avoiding her.
"Because—" She draws a circle around herself with her hand. Turns to show off her bare shoulders, one at a time. "I'm unadorned."
"Guys would fall over themselves trying to convince you to ink up. They'd get their work done at the shop so they could flirt with you." Which is a good reason to discourage her. I want to deck Dean whenever he flirts with Kaylee and I know he's only doing it to fuck with me. If it were some other guy, one who wouldn't think twice about treating her like a cum-dumpster? Fuck, I'd break my hand within a month.
"What if I said yes?"
"As long as I do the work."
"Yeah?" She scoots back on her bed and lowers herself onto her back. "You trust yourself?"
Trust myself with my hands on her skin? Fuck no. But— "More than I trust anyone else."
She turns toward me and props up on one elbow. "Maybe I can help convince Ryan. If there are numbers supporting it. Math isn't my best subject—"
"You got an A minus in Calculus."
"See. Not my best."
I arch a brow.
She laughs. "That was my worst grade."
"Of course it was."
"Hey, I didn't tell you to spend your high school career hanging out with druggies and burn outs."
"You sure? I thought that was you."
This laugh is bigger. It gets her light hair falling in her face. Her strap sliding off her shoulder. "Are you gonna stay awhile?"
"Yeah."
"Good." She grabs her glasses from the bedside table and slides them on.
I take a seat on the bed next to her. "I have something for you. Close your eyes."
"Okay." Her lids flutter together. She turns toward me. Every part of her body is expectant. Her back is arched. Her lips are pursed. Her thighs are pressed together.
She wants me to kiss her.
Touch her.
Fuck her.
I want that too.
Fuck, how I want that...
