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I play with the waistband of my leggings. "Would you get one?"
He shakes his head. "Not that secure with my masculinity."
"If you were."
"Hard to envision a universe where that's true."
I laugh, even though I don't believe it. "You're incredibly secure about that."
"About my cock? Yeah. Of course. You want to see so you can remember why?" he teases.
"No. About how manly you are. You're not afraid to hug Ryan and tell him you love him."
He smirks. "Ryan hates that."
"Yeah. And you'd probably say that's why you do it, but it's not. You care about your friends and family."
"Who said otherwise?"
"You."
He arches a brow.
I step over a mass of rocks. "You act like you don't give a fuck. But you do."
"Maybe." He turns to the view. Lets out a heavy exhale as he takes it in. "You act like you hate everything."
"I do."
"Nah. You barely hate anything."
I shake my head.
He nods. "You mostly talk about shit you love."
"That's because I mostly talk tattoos."
"You're obsessed."
"That's why I'm here." I round another corner. Ah, sweet, sweet shade. I hug the hillside.
"Why are you here?" He moves forward. So he's in front of me, then he turns and walks backward.
"Here? You have some sort of plan to make me see the beauty in the world."
"And?"
"It's gorgeous here, yeah. But it's not filling me with zest for life."
"I'm wearing too many clothes."
"That must be it."
His eyes meet mine. "Why are you at Inked Hearts?"
"I told you. I decided to start going after what I wanted."
"Tell me the real story."
