“So, your boyfriend’s not the pain type, I take it?” She wiped down some of the surfaces.
The wordboyfriendgrated at me. “Apparently. Though I’ll admit, I want one more than ever now.”
“What’s stopping you?” She leaned against the counter, all casual-like, so fucking chill my knees went weak. The vest was fucking working for her, highlighting her shapely hips in those jeans.
“I’m shit at making up my mind about anything.” I tugged on a strand of my hair.
Nyx shook her head. “So many people think a tattoo has to mean something significant, but it really fucking doesn’t.” She pointed to the Gothic castle. “This is Bran Castle because I’m obsessed with Dracula. Not because of some deep-rooted significance in my life.”
“It’s gorgeous.” I took a step closer.
She held out her forearm for examination, and I dove at the chance. I swept my fingertips down her forearm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, and the proximity alone made my blood heat. My heart thudded hard. Damn, Imissedthis. Actual chemistry instead of fumbling through one date after another.
The linework was detailed and lush and almost as pretty to look at as she was. “Who did this one?”
“Owen,” she said with a wry grin. “He’s the shop owner and talented as fuck. So if you had to get a tattoo of a random interest, what would it be?”
Guh, to admit it or not?
I squeezed my nape. “Probably something monster movie-related.”
Nyx lifted her brows. “Well, damn, I didn’t expect that.”
“Why? Because I’m blonde and like pink dresses?” My current ensemble was a cute pink-and-white-checkered one, and I styled my hair and did my makeup on the regular. Since I wore scrubs for work and was usually covered in animal shit and vomit, I loved the chance to express myself.
“That’s on me,” she said. “I should know better than to judge by appearances. But if you wanted a monster movie tattoo, I can tell you now there’d be some phenomenal art and designs we could work with. If you want, I can send you some artists.”
“Oh, I see,” I said, my voice going flirty. “Sneaking in with the hard sell.”
“Mm, doesn’t look like it’d be so hard.” The heated eye scan and cocky grin from her turned me to goo. Ngh.
Kevin burst into the room, shattering the moment to pieces. “Okay, I’m ready for the rest of this. You should warn people how much that hurts.”
Nyx passed me a look and didn’t justify him with a response. Kevin flopped back onto the table, and Nyx shifted intoprofessional mode once more. I settled into the seat, my body humming almost as loud as the tattoo gun. Goddamn, I was obsessed with her.
She worked a little faster as if she sensed Kevin didn’t have much left in him. Still, her lines were neat and her moves efficient as she filled in one letter after the next. Time dripped away as I watched her work, her grace mesmerizing. Of course Kevin howled the whole time because clearly, he had a “high pain tolerance.”
I savored every second of sitting beside her, the smell of the cleaner in the room blending with the whiff of spice that wafted my way. This close, my skin vibrated with awareness, a feeling I’d been missing for a long damn time. She had this little habit of chewing on her lower lip while she concentrated, and the urge to taste her amped up higher and higher.
And the clarity of what I needed to do when Kevin and I left settled in loud and clear.
It had been what I’d needed to do for a while now.
She finished filling in the last letter, sprayed it down, and wiped off the residual blood. When she pulled back, she looked at the script and shook her head. Kevin wouldn’t have caught the movement, but I could and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“All right,” she said. “We’re done. Want to get a look at it?”
“Thank fuck,” Kevin said. “Let me see.”
She grabbed the long mirror and held it up behind him. He twisted around, and a grin broke out on his face. There in all its glory was No Regrets in Gothic font—big, in your face, and the furthest thing from classy.
Well, I was glad he liked it at least.
“Babe, you couldn’t manage this,” he said to me. “Good thing I was the one getting tattooed, not you.”
My jaw tensed, and I didn’t bother to correct him. All the words I’d swallowed back bubbled to the surface, but I could wait until we were out and he’d paid. Nyx watched us, her eyebrow lifted as if she was waiting for me to put him in his place. Fuck, she probably thought I was a pushover. And truthfully, I was a little. But even I shouldn’t have let this relationship go on this long.
“Let me go over the aftercare instructions with you,” she said. As she launched into the spiel, I zoned out. My irritation with Kevin, which had been growing and growing over the past few weeks—months even—had reached a boiling point.
