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“Um…yeah, sure. Where are you going?”
“To stare at Gideon.” My gaze flicked toward the counter. “Someone’s heading over to check out too.”
“Gee, thanks, Milo. Just let me do all your work for you.” Her voice was soft and teasing, and while hugs weren’t my favorite thing, I suddenly wanted to hug Rachel. So I did. Quickly. Then backed away as if she could give me cooties.
“I’ll be right back.”
This was maybe the dumbest thing I’d ever done, but I’d also spent my life being very careful. I didn’t do a lot of stupid things, so I deserved to do one now.
I left the store and went directly to Conflicting Ink. We really needed to bust part of a wall down and put in a door between us.
Gideon’s brown eyes shot toward me when I stepped inside. I watched, trying to see if he wanted to eat me alive or thought he was lucky, but I didn’t see that at all. Just surprise.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked while tattooing a man’s shoulder blade.
“Nothing. I just came to see you.”
He grinned. I squinted my eyes, but it looked like a normal smile to me. “You can pull up a chair if you want. This is Colton. His wife is from Little Beach, and they come back every summer for vacation. Colton, this is my friend Milo.”
“Nice to meet you,” Colton said.
“You too.” I wanted to tell him I wished he could leave so Gideon and I could be alone, but I knew better than to say that.
“I always get ink from Gideon while I’m in town,” he said, but I just stared at Gid. He wasn’t watching me, instead paying attention to what he was doing, which I supposed was a good thing. He was putting ink permanently in someone’s skin and all.
“Everyone says Gideon is the best at what he does. If I ever got a tattoo, I’d want him to do it.”
Gideon tilted his head just a little, one side of his mouth kicking up. “I’d have my feelings hurt if you didn’t.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t ever want to hurt your feelings.”
“I know.” He winked. “I’m giving you shit.”
And Rachel was crazy. Gideon most certainly did not want to eat me alive or eye me as if we were two characters in a romance novel. I crossed my arms. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, before dipping the tattoo machine into ink. I’d researched tattooing because I was interested in what Gideon did. Before, I’d always thought it was a gun, but they preferred the term machine.
I thought maybe you wanted to be my boyfriend?
“Nothing. I should go back to work.” I put the chair back and walked out.
The second I was in the bookstore, I said, “Gideon so doesn’t want to eat me.”
Autumn dropped a coffee mug, which shattered on the floor. Oops. I should be more careful who was around and how loudly I spoke. Luckily, it was only her and Rachel close by.
I grabbed the broom and dustpan, but Autumn said she could do it. I leaned over the counter just as Rachel said, “You were there for five minutes.”
“And he didn’t look at me any special way.”
She dropped her head back as if I was exhausting her. Well, I was exhausted too. She’d started this. “Talk to him, Milo. You’re the most honest person I know. Talk to Gideon and tell him how you feel.”
She had a point. I could do that, couldn’t I? But what if I tried, and all it did was chase Gideon away?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gideon
I was booked solid all day. I didn’t see Milo again, but he hadn’t left my mind. Something had been off when he’d come by earlier. It was killing me not to know what it was. The timing was suspicious as fuck, considering I’d just been talking about him to Kris earlier. He wouldn’t have said anything to Milo, but could someone have overheard? Did someone mention opening night or say something about the two of us and it had upset him? I was driving myself crazy trying to figure it out.
It was nine when I finished at the shop. Freddy was still there, working on a piece. “See you tomorrow.” I waved on my way out.
“You too,” he called back.
I went next door first. I wasn’t sure if Milo was closing, which they did at nine, or if Rachel had gone in. I saw him inside but didn’t notice Autumn or anyone else. I tried the door, and it was unlocked, so I went in, just as he was finishing up sweeping. “Hey, you.” I pushed my hands into my pockets and leaned against the counter, close to him.
“You’re nervous, or you’re thinking about something. Those are the only times you keep your hands in your pockets.”
