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"This?"
"You."
She stares into my eyes, picking apart my intentions.
"Never thought I'd see you again. Figured you'd be in grad school by now."
"That was the plan."
"But?"
"Life happened."
It tends to do that. But Chloe was hardcore about school. Straight As, AP classes, all work and no play. "You in school now?"
"No. I graduated with a studio art degree a while ago. Then… I decided life was too short not to go after what I want."
"What do you want?"
"Hmm. I'm here apprenticing. Whatever could I want?"
"Leighton says she's here for the view."
"Uh-huh."
I pull my t-shirt up my stomach. Pat my abs. "This is what she means."
Chloe rolls her eyes. "I want to do tattoos."
It suits her—she's always been that all black, counterculture type. But it's still weird to think about. We used to compete for our art teacher's attention.
"Ryan swore he'd never take an apprentice." I lean in to whisper. "How'd you convince him?"
"He hasn't. He said I have to convince one of you to do it. Or all of you to share me." She presses her lips together. "Don't even."
"What? Suggest it would be dirty hot if all four of us shared you."
"Yeah, something like that."
"Fuck. That would be dirty hot. For you."
She shakes her head. "Not interested."
"You sure? You haven't seen Walker or Brendon since high school."
"Still sure."
"I'll introduce you tomorrow. See if that changes your mind."
She stares into my eyes, picking me apart. Finally, she nods. "That's it. You convinced me. Should we all go to the backroom now?"
"Yeah." I laugh. "You first."
"No. You first."
"Uh-uh. I have a strict policy. Ladies first."
"Is that right?"
