“You’re watching them get their nails done?”
“I’m watchingCaseyget her nails done,” he corrected, giving me a faint shrug, his eyes still locked on his phone.
I leaned closer, doing my best to sound casual even as my brain immediately started plotting. “So…hypothetically speaking, how does one, uh…do that?”
Parker’s gaze finally flicked to me, suspicious. “Dowhat, Adler?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, straightening like a guy who definitely wasn’t considering installing hidden cameras on a girl so he could track her everywhere.
Parker stared a beat longer, then went back to his phone.
Out of nowhere, Jace huffed a laugh. “She’s so cute.”
I glanced up and blinked.
Jace was holding up his own phone, grinning like he’d just cracked the code to life. On his screen was thesamesalon, same pink walls, same terrible background music—just a different pair of hands in frame.
Longer nails this time. Glitter polish. Definitely Riley.
“It’s always so cute how they talk about us,” Jace mused, leaning back on the couch like he was watching a rom-com instead of a manicure.
Parker didn’t even glance up. “She’s probably telling them about how you tried to make Pop-Tarts in the toasterwith the foil still on.”
“I like a challenge,” Jace said defensively. “Keeps my reflexes sharp.”
“If you could challenge yourself somewhere I don’t sleep, that would be great.” I scowled, realizing now why the house had smelled like it had almost burned down when I’d walked in.
“Shh,” Jace said, raising a finger. “She’s saying something about me.”
Two seconds later, the receiver on the TV dropped another pass, and Jace exploded.
“CATCH THE DAMN BALL!” he roared, chucking the nearest throw pillow at the screen, nearly spilling his beer in the process.
My phone buzzed again, the vibration enough to grate on my last nerve. I didn’t even have to look to know that it was my dad again.
I scrubbed a hand down my face and sank deeper into the couch…definitely sulking.
Jace’s eyes kept flicking between the TV and his phone, a sappy, lovestruck grin tugging at his mouth every time Riley’s voice came through the speaker. He’d shout at the TV one second and then melt into a goofy smile the next.
Parker wasn’t even pretending to watch the game. He hadn’t looked up once, completely absorbed in whatever Casey was saying on the other end. His mouth curved into that quiet, content smirk that only showed up when it involved her.
I sat there, surrounded by two fully grown men acting like they’d been shot by five billion of Cupid’s arrows, and tried not to lose my mind.
That’s what I want, I realized.
And right now, the girl who made me feel like I finally had something worth wanting was somewhere I couldn’t reach.
I clenched my fists against my knees.
Yeah, I was definitely losing it, and I definitely needed a distraction. Or in about ten seconds I was going to rush out of here and pound on Ophelia’s door, ruining everything just as it was getting started.
I glanced around the living room, trying to find something,anything, since obviously football wasn’t cutting it today. Myeyes snagged on a brown box by the front door—an Amazon sticker half peeled back because Jace had obviously tried to open it before being distracted by Riley’s ass…That exact scenario happening at least ten times a week.
Something clicked. I’d placed the order weeks ago on a stupid impulse and then forgotten about it when life got loud. My tattoo kit.
I sat up so fast the cushion squeaked. Perfect.
I shoved off the couch, grabbed the box, and tore it open, spilling everything across the coffee table. Metal pieces clinked against the wood. Needles, tiny ink bottles, cords that looked way too complicated for someone who hadn’t slept, and an instruction booklet the size of a novella.
