Page 35 of Spring Break Fling

“Karma is a bitch!” Tara texted.

I put the phone away and ordered a second glass of wine. With my notebook out, I decided to try and get some work done. I was on a work trip after all.

I flipped back to the marketing pitch and made a few notes. The sound of hushed conversations provided soothing white noise. I hated working in total silence. But as focused as I was trying to be, my eyes kept drifting to my phone. Before I knew it, I opened social media. I didn’t think Nikko was the Instagram-type, but I was almost certain the tattoo parlor would have a page. Duh, marketing one-oh-one.

Sure enough, it was there. I quickly went to the account. My heart jumped when I saw a group photo. Nikko’s face practically jumped out at me.

Hot damn.

I had that.

And now I was going to have to try and get close but not naked with him.

Did anyone have that kind of self-control?

I noticed the tagged people. Nikko was tagged, which meant he did have an account. I clicked the name and there he was. Well, not him, but a sketch for his profile picture. I started scrolling through Nikko’s public Instagram.

His feed was a mix of completed tattoos, in-progress shots, and the occasional artsy photo of his tools or his motorcycle. His work was breathtaking. Every piece seemed to carry its own story, like he’d pulled emotions straight out of his clients and inked them into their skin.

It was infuriating. Why did someone so talented have to be such an arrogant jerk?

I noticed there wasn’t anything really personal on his page. No girlfriends. No family. None of the typical pictures of him at the beach or doing anything. In fact, there were only a couple pictures of him with his face visible. That made sense. He struck me as the private type.

I was mid-scroll when my phone buzzed with a notification.

It was a direct message. I frowned and opened it before my heart dropped. “Oh shit.”

Busted!

Nikko was messaging me. I forgot people could see who was looking at their profiles. I should have locked my account down.

Meet me at the shop tonight at 8 for date #1.

My heart did this weird little flutter thing that I immediately tried to squash.

I stared at the message, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

Tara’s advice rang in my head. Be unpredictable.

So instead of confirming, I typed back: I’m busy.

I hit send and smiled to myself. Let him stew on that.

The reply came almost instantly.

Nikko: Busy doing what?

I smirked, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. Wouldn’t you like to know?

For once, I was the one keeping him guessing. And it felt damn good.

Nikko: I’ll see you at eight.

I groaned. We both knew I was going to show up. I was already failing my mission.

12

NIKKO