“You didn’t have to.”
She sighed and stopped scrubbing.
“For the record,” I continued. “I’m still single because I’m scared shitless that I’ll be just like my parents and marry someone who hates my guts, day in and day out. So, you won’t hear any judgment from me on the subject. I get it.”
Shea lifted her head, her gaze more vulnerable than I’d ever seen it.
“Well, then, I’d say we’re both pretty fucked up.”
“We should probably see a shrink and have our heads examined,” I agreed. “Or maybe just get drunk and eat our weight in waffles.”
Shea laughed. My heart did a little somersault in my chest at how light that sound was. After a few more strokes of her marker, she straightened up and declared my temporary tattoo was finished.
“What do you think?” she said.
I held up my arm, examining her work.
A motorcycle in bold black lines was twined with ethereal green ivy. Perched on the handlebar was a dragonfly in blue and purple, matching the same dragonfly tattoos on Shea’s spine.
“I was kinda hoping for the sparkly tiara, to be honest,” I said.
Shea huffed and kicked me under the table.
“You are fucking impossible. Give me those waffles.”
She stole my plate, grabbed my fork, and dug in. I didn’t object and let her eat as much as she wanted.
I was too busy committing every inch of that temporary tattoo to memory. Since the ink was washable, it wouldn’t last long.
But I loved it more than words could ever say.
Chapter five
Shea
You’re worth staying for, Shea.
I tossed and turned as Trooper’s words replayed on an endless loop in my head. No one ever said something like that to me before.
On one hand, I wanted to believe him.
On the other hand, I didn’t let it sink in. Instead, I chose to keep it at arm’s length out of habit.
If I allowed myself to hope someone might want to stay for me one day, then I ran the risk of a broken heart if they walked out. I couldn’t bear that.
For the past two weeks, I’d spent every night at Lila’s apartment on her pull-out couch, with a biker parked outside for protection. As much as I enjoyed her company, I was beginning to miss having my own space.
Ritter was nowhere to be seen since that kiss with Trooper in my shop. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it was that simple to run him off. But I didn’t like putting my life on hold because of some creep.
During my lunch break, I headed over to Lila’s lingerie boutique, Noir Delights, with milkshakes and fries to break the news that it was time for me to move out.
The bell over the door chimed as I entered the shop ensconced in swaths of lace, silk, and satin in every color imaginable. Lila glanced up from a nearby set of shelves as she folded gauzy pink camisoles into a tidy display.
“I brought you carbs and sugar,” I announced, holding up the bag of food. “As a thank you gift, for hosting me.”
“Oh, that definitely means you’re softening the blow before some bad news,” Lila replied. “What flavor?”
“Cookie dough, with extra whipped cream. And those spicy steak-cut fries that you love.”
