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“Problem?” I ask, and a dark expression crosses his face.
“Nothing that can’t wait. Yo, Cruz, you back there?”
There’s commotion beyond the chain curtain, and a guy as scary looking as Ace appears. “Jag, my man, how’s it going?”
“You know how it is.”
“Who’s the chick?” His eyes take a leisurely sweep down my body, and I half expect Ace to go into full alpha asshole mode.
But he doesn’t.
“I’m Ace’s—“
“No one. She’s no one.”
My stomach drops, but I bury the hurt. So what? It’s not like we’re together.
It’s not like we’re anything at all.
I avert my eyes, pretending to look at one of the design folders out on a counter pushed up against the wall.
“Kelsey know you’re in the neighborhood with a...” Cruz lowers his voice so I can’t hear the rest, and I’m not sure I want to.
Suddenly, coming here with Ace feels like a giant mistake. He makes me reckless and impulsive, completely disarming me.
It never occurred to me before now that maybe that’s how he wants me.
I peek over at them, and I’m surprised to find them both looking at me. “You want to see a real artist at work?” Ace asks.
“You’re getting a tattoo? Now?”
“Well I didn’t come here to get my hair braided.”
Cruz snorts at that. “What do you say, Ace’s girl?” His eyes slide to Ace, but he doesn’t flinch.
I frown, wondering what game Cruz is playing. “After you,” he says, motioning to the curtain. I slip around them and part the chain ropes, but at the last second, I glance back and say, “My name is Remi, and I’m no one's property.”
Cruz explodes with laughter, and I swear I hear Ace grumble at him to fuck off. I fight a smile.
I might be treated as a worthless no one at Sterling Prep, but I refuse to be that girl here.
The back room is divided into two workstations separated by a thin medical-grade curtain. Someone’s boots are poking out the end as the quiet mumble of pained sighs fills the room.
“Yo, D, Jag is in the building.” Another guy rolls out on a stool from behind the curtain.
“Decided to get your ass in the chair and get that sleeve finished?”
“You know it.” Ace flexes his arm, the inked patterns coming to life on his skin.
“Let’s get started.” Cruz begins laying out his tattoo gun. “Ace’s girl... I mean Remi, you can take a seat right here.” He pats a stool near the chair Ace is getting comfortable in.
“Don’t you have to trace the design onto his skin first?” I ask, seeing no sign of any paper.
“Nah, I let Cruz do his thing.”
“Wow, you must really trust him.” I glance at Cruz. “Have you ever been tempted to tattoo something really inappropriate on him?”
“Who says I haven’t?” He shoots me a wicked grin. “Now watch and learn.”
