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“Was it that awful, posing for a picture with me?”
No. It felt good. Too good. “Drop it or leave.”
“You wouldn’t kick me out.”
“Try me.”
She stares into my eyes, picking me apart. She must decide I’m willing to make due on the threat, because she drops the subject in favor of taking another bite.
We eat in silence for a while. It’s not like the quiet when I’m alone. It doesn’t suffocate me.
It’s comfortable.
Easy.
Dinner is perfect, but it’s not the taste that thrills me. It’s the satisfaction spreading over her face.
I want more of it.
I want it in ways I shouldn’t.
I grab the easiest distraction I can find.
“Let’s get started.” I motion to her laptop.
“I didn’t agree.”
“Then don’t do it.”
She presses her lips together. “I run the Inked Hearts website.”
“And?”
“I know how to do this.”
“If you don’t want help—”
“I don’t want to do it at all.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“And you’re not?” She opens her laptop, types her password, turns it to me. When I don’t respond, she nods with triumph. “There are too many options.”
“Use what we use for Inked Hearts.” I type the website into the search bar. “You have a name in mind?”
“Even More Inked Hearts?”
I chuckle. “Really?”
“Inked Wing Designs.”
“That’s your tattoo.” I check that the domain is available.
“Yeah.” Awkwardness drips into her voice. “It, um… It’s alis volat propiis.”
“She flies by her own wings.”
“You know Latin?”
