He grabs my arm and stops me, tugging me until we’re chest to chest.
“I’m a dick.”
I let out a startled laugh, but he just shakes his head.
“I’m serious. I treated you like shit. It’s like a switch flipped in my head, and I couldn’t help it.”
“I’m not sure what to say. I’m too new here to know when I’m overstepping.”
“Just be you.”
“Alright. Honestly, you didn’t do anything wrong. I think if we hadn’t met that day at your shop, everything would’ve been fine. But that threw us a little. Maybe because for one tiny moment, you weren’t a biker, and I wasn’t a whore. We were just Midas and Legs, two people attracted to each other.”
He nods because he knows I’m not wrong.
“We can still be Midas and Legs,” I offer with a small smile.
“We can; it’ll just be in a different way now. If you cut me some slack for being an asshole, I promise to rein in my possessive streak and not act like a jealous prick.” Even though his words taste like ash on my tongue, I nod.
“Okay, deal.” I hold out my hand for him to shake.
His hand wraps around mine before he shakes it. “Friends?”
Something inside me breaks and heals at the same time. “You really wanna be my friend?”
“Yeah, Legs, I really do.”
I look around at the designs plastered across the walls of the tattoo parlor as Midas hugs the guy who greeted us. Clearly, they know each other. He’s not wearing a cut, so I’m guessing he’s not a club brother. But then again, Midas wasn’t wearing one when I met him either, so who knows?
“Legs,” Midas calls, pulling my eyes away from the image I’d been staring at. I turn to see him and the other guy walking toward me. “Legs, this is Dean. He’s gonna do your ink.”
“Nice to meet you, Dean.”
“You too. So... what were you staring at so hard over here?”
I point at the sketch of two crossed arrows.
“If you’ve got time, I can do that one too.”
I grin and brush my hair back, tilting my head just enough to reveal the inked version behind my ear. One of the arrows is black and twisted, its tip dipped in blood. The other is made to resemble solid steel, with a white angel feather at the top of the shaft.
“Nice. Edge did this, right?”
I nod. “He did both of my tattoos.”
“Oh yeah, what else do you have?”
“Can we hurry this shit up?” Midas snaps.
Dean looks at me and rolls his eyes before showing me over to his chair. “Take a seat. I’ll grab the stencil I use for all the girls.”
I nod and do as he says.
“How well do you know Edge?” Midas asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
I sigh. “He’s a Chaos Demon. How well do you think I know him?” I say gently, watching as his jaw clenches and his arms drop, his hands fisting at his sides like he wants to hit something.
“Midas?”
