Reeve looked up immediately. “Almost ready to head out. Wait for me.”
“I don’t mind walking alone, really.” My fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt, giving away the nerves I hoped he didn’t notice.
He shook his head. “Don’t leave without me.”
Something in his tone made resistance impossible. Butterflies swirled in my belly as I nodded and made my way to the front door.
I slipped outside into the evening air, stepping away from the entrance so I wouldn’t block it since the studio was still open.
It was much quieter out here. I leaned against the brick wall and let out a slow breath, my thoughts drifting straight to Reeve. Again.
That first kiss in the supply room, how he’d hauled me against him like he couldn’t hold himself back another second. The little touches and smoldering looks since then. More kisses. It all kept me on edge.
He wasn’t even hiding the possessive gleam in his dark eyes anymore, especially when I worked with male clients.
I should probably have been wary of that, but it made me feel safe. Protected in a way that was new and confusing. Addictive, too.
I tried to tell myself it was nothing. The Hounds of Hellfire guys were just protective of women. He was the manager of their tattoo shop. Maybe he’d walk any female employee home if she lived as close as I did.
But that didn’t stop me from looking forward to it. And on days I wasn’t at the studio, time felt as though it moved so much more slowly.
I shouldn’t have wanted his attention this much.
But I stood there waiting anyway, my heart doing the fluttery thing I only experienced around Reeve.
Sliding down the wall until I sat on the cool concrete, I pulled my sketchbook from my bag. The familiar weight of it settled my nerves, and I flipped through the pages without really thinking. Then I reached the sketch I did of Reeve.
I paused, my fingers tracing the edge of the page even though I hadn’t meant to stop there. I’d drawn him a few days ago,late at night when sleep wouldn’t come. It was just his profile, the strong line of his jaw, and the shadow of his throat where his tattoos disappeared beneath his shirt. It was a simple line drawing, but somehow more intimate than anything else in my notebook.
Sketching Reeve hadn’t gotten him out of my head. If anything, it had only made things worse.
The last thing I needed was someone catching me sketching the guy who already consumed too much of my headspace, so I quickly flipped the page.
A strange prickle brushed along the back of my neck, and I glanced up, expecting to find someone standing there. But the sidewalk was mostly empty. A couple walked past without looking at me, and the cars on the street rolled by like normal. Nobody was paying attention to me.
I shook the lingering unease off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The neighborhood was safe. The studio was right behind me. And Reeve would be done any minute. There was no reason to be worried.
A van eased up to the curb in front of me, rolling to a stop. I barely registered it at first because delivery trucks and rideshares used this stretch of road all the time. But after the passenger door opened and a man climbed out, another slid from the back seat a beat later.
“Hey there,” the first one called, walking toward me with an easy smile. “You happen to know where Cascade Cutz is?”
My fingers snapped my sketchbook shut without thinking. Then I slipped it into my bag and pushed to my feet. “Sorry, no.”
The second man flanked me before I’d even stood fully upright.
“That right?” he asked, stepping close enough that I had to tip my head back to look at him.
I took a tiny step to the side, but the first one shifted too, blocking the path to Hellbound’s front door. A prickle of unease went through me.
“You’re Elena, right?” the first man asked casually. “Jareth Marks is your mentor.”
My throat tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His chuckle held no humor. “Sure you don’t.”
The second man leaned in, his breath hot against my cheek. “Tell your mentor he’s been really slow answering. Maybe he’ll get the message this time.”
I flinched back. “I think you have the wrong person.”
