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"Yeah."
"You give it up?"
"No." She drops to her knees. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."
"How long has that been?"
"Sixteen years. Not that I'm counting."
"But no Meat is Murder shirt all week."
"That's where you're wrong." She taps her tank top. "It's on here in all black. I could never give up my all black aesthetic. Even for my morals." Her lips curl into a soft smile. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it. With how hard you stare."
I can't help but smile. I don't stare, exactly, but I do look. I can't help myself. Chloe is my kryptonite. She always has been.
"You can't get out of this," I say.
"Seems like I'm getting there."
I shake my head. She's charming me, yeah, but she's not getting any closer to getting out of this.
Chloe is doing this ink tonight.
She drops the teasing to look up at me. "What do you want?"
"A shooting star."
"That's complicated."
It is. Way too complicated for her first tattoo. It's good she has some idea of her limits.
For being a week into her apprenticeship, she's doing fucking amazing.
Most people don't touch a gun for months. They don't start tattooing clients for a year or so. And then there's a year of doing shitty simple stuff for free before they're anywhere near good enough to charge.
I find something that will be easy for her to do. Well, easier. "Then a five point-star."
She drops to her knees. Her jaw drops. Her eyes go wide.
She isn't here to suck me off.
But the thought burns into my brain.
God, that smart mouth of hers…
What is it about the way she looks at me?
It's fucking irresistible.
She presses her lips together. "Did you draw it out?"
"You need me to draw a five-point star?"
"Some people are specific."
"No. Go ahead. Make a stencil."
"I will." Her voice wavers. "I'm going to do it."
