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He stands in front of the door, dressed in washed out denims and a new t-shirt, this one black. His eyes lower to my mouth and he gets something hungry in his gaze.
“Why do you have to leave? Call your boss and tell him you’re sick.”
“He’d call my bluff so fast and I would just embarrass myself, maybe even get fired.” I grab my purse from the floor and toss my keys into it. “See you later...”
I seem to be getting too familiar around Troy, because I automatically lean forward and place a peck on his lips. It’s light, breezy but he flinches, watching me through hooded eyes as if he’s not sure if that really happened. I’m not sure either.
Did it? Please, somebody say I didn’t do that.
Troy’s features go from stunned to determine and he reaches out as if to cup my neck, but I duck and race out the open door. My heart pounds as I fly onto the street and I throw a distressed glance over my shoulder. Troy is leaning against the doorway, his eyes darkening the farther away I get and I let out a whimper, turning around again.
I practically powerwalk all the way to the tattoo shop. By the time I’m there, I’m so warm I’m tempted to take off my blouse and sit in front of the fan for a couple of minutes. Taking a deep breath, I greet my coworkers, put my purse down on a stool then sit behind the counter. I check all the customers we’ll have for the day and erase the ones who have cancelled.
I kissed Troy.Stupid, stupid...Why didn’t I ask him to take out Troy Jr. while I was at it? Argh...I feel like tearing my hair out.
Customer after customer drops in and I plaster a smile on my face, giving each and every one the warm welcome they deserve. I’m busy with a man who wants a panther on his shoulder and don’t look up when the doorbell pings.
Then I catch the silhouette of the figure, the shade of his clothes...
Gasping, I turn my head to the side, swaying a little when Troy’s eyes meet mine. I gulp, ushering the client over to the tattoo artist who will be taking care of him and then I walk over to Troy.
“What are you doing here?” I say with a fretful hiss, because I never told him the name of the shop I work at. “How did you even find me?”
“Followed you,” he rasps, his eyes smooth and deep. His lips look so freaking kissable that I don’t know whether to smack him or turn all weak in the knees.
“Stalking’s illegal last time I checked,” I murmur, crossing my arms but drop them the moment Troy takes a step closer to me.
“You know what else is illegal? Kissing a guy, then running away before he can kiss you back.”
My cheeks heat and my throat snares. “T...that’s not illegal,” I stutter and Troy’s eyes warm.
“In my rulebook it is.”
Right...his made up rules. I drag a breath, glancing at Troy beneath my lashes. “Well, you’ve said what you needed to say now...I have to go back to work.”
He holds his palms up. “Don’t let me stop you, little miss professional.”
I wince, lowering my voice. “You know you can’t stay here, right? This is for customers only...”
“Yeah, I am a customer,” he interrupts. “Matter of fact, I’m here to get inked.” He flashes a wide grin and I hold down a groan.
“Are you serious?”
He frowns. “Don’t I look serious?”
Sighing, I hand him some books with motives he can choose from. “Fine, have it your way. Tell me when you find something.” I walk back over to the counter, positive that Troy is just playing around and he shouldn’t do this to me at my workplace. He flusters me, ruffles my feathers and I need to focus.
Troy gives me a long, calculating look before shrugging and he sits down on the vintage leather coach. Throwing his leg over his knee, he starts flipping through the pages and I shake my head to myself.He followed me.Who does that?
And it shouldn’t make the corners of my mouth twitch, but it does. Heamusesme.
I suppose I should be up in arms and rant at him for daring to track me, but Troy’s harmless. As well as insanely charming and he has that roughness that makes me want to dig my nails into his pecs and pull him closer. I flush when my thoughts become raunchier and I avert my gaze.
Focus, Chuck.
I turn my attention to the customers, but glance at Troy from the corner of my eye whenever I can, and I notice that he tenses as soon as a client is male. Then he leans forward a little, eyes darkening and he gets an annoyed twitch around his mouth. I struggle to hold down a laugh and look up when Troy rises and walks over to me.
He drops the books on the counter with a thump and I quirk a brow. “And?”
