I…fuck.
Jesus, the queen, handbags. Jesus, the queen, handbags. Jesus, the queen, handbags.
I take a deep breath, wrangling the shredded remnants of my self-control, willing myselfnotto take off every scrap of his clothing and map his body with my tongue. I force myself to remember that the first time he was in my car, I had a body decaying in the trunk. I can’t make him a part of that life.
It breaks my heart to say the words I have to say. “You know I’m not good enough for you. Please stop.”
His face kind of…crumples. “Why would you say that?You’re thebestperson I know.”
I take his hand and kiss his knuckles, unable to deny myself this small piece of him. “I’m a good personto you. That doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”
I hate keeping the truth from him, and every part of me wants to reach out to him and erase the hurt and confused look in his eyes, but that would be tragic on a scale I can’t deal with. Closing my eyes so I can get through it, I say another lie designed to break my own heart. “I’m sorry, Rafi. I just don’t see you that way. I’m your friend, that’s it.”
I open my eyes, and he steps back from me as though I’ve struck him. Furiously wiping his tears, he stumbles over his words. “I, uh. I can’t believe I just did that.Of courseyou don’t see me like that. Why would you?”
“I’m sorry. You’re a great guy, but it’s a hard line, man.”
He shakes out his hands and takes another, awful step away. “Um, that’s alright. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay?”
“Of course. Do you still want to get a tattoo?”
We are way the fuck out of time for a tattoo, goddammit.
Grabbing the piece of paper off the counter, he shoves it in his pocket and shakes his head. “I…uh, I need to go now. And, uh…” He hums a nervous, broken tune to himself as he pulls out his phone, hitting a few buttons. A notification sound I’d know anywhere goes off on his phone, and he nods to himself. “Looks like I have other plans. I can reschedule with you later, right?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer and practically flees my shop, his shiny new cowboy boots loud on the tiles and then on the pavement.
This is none of my business.
This is none of my business.
Boundaries are good.
…
…
…
Fuck boundaries.
Letting out a growl, I grab my phone, opening the same hookup app and…goddammit. It’s Boys’ Night at the Cadillac Bar across the street, and there are about a million red dots on the in-app map. Hell, even my phone starts dinging left and right.
Just as I’m about to get real stupid, the door opens and the crew piles into the shop, Omar bringing up the rear.The team circles around me at the window while Omar stands off to the side. I up-nod our newest member, then continue checking out the party-like atmosphere going on across the street. Fuck, it would take Rafi about 2.5 seconds to find someone, take them home, and obliterate any memory of me.
My stomach clenches at the thought, and I don’t even realize Omar has said something to me until his hand finds its way into my pinpoint field of vision.
I grab his hand absentmindedly and shake it.
“Oh, sorry. What? Yeah, welcome. We kill the rich assholes who otherwise get away with victimizing people. You in?”
Omar blinks, looking at Odd, Anders, and Thane as he shifts his feet. “Um, sure, that’s great.”
I’m still looking out the window when six and a half feet of man blocks my view.
“Everett, something bothering you?” Thane’s voice is concerned, and rightly so.
“Huh, what?” I ask, gesturing Thane out of my way.
