I take a deep breath and nod to Tony. “Thanks.”
Perhaps I hadn’t planned a next step, but one thing is for sure: come Friday, I’ll be at that tattoo parlor. Because I’m discovering gold beneath the layers of assumptions I unfairly made, and now, no matter how bad I might be for her, it seems I can’t stay away.
4
Camile
I stand outside the tattoo place, staring up at the name above the door. Mercy Tattoos. I never thought to ask what it meant, but now that I’m here, with nerves crowding my stomach, I can’t help but wonder. I smooth my sweaty palms down my top and gather my courage. Iwantthis. I’ve thought long and hard about it. Karson’s voice whispers in the back of my mind that tattoos on women are trashy, and I set my jaw. Fuck him. I’m doing this. I push the door open and step inside.
“Hi.” I smile at the woman behind the counter. “I’m here for a 2:00 p.m. appointment. Camile Hayes.”
She checks her screen and nods. “Sure thing, sweetie. Why don’t you take a seat over there?” She points at a pair of sofas in the corner I didn’t notice when I came in. “Mercy will be with you soon.”
So Mercy is a person? Thank God.
A hulking figure sprawled on one of the sofas distracts me.Leo.
“What are you doing here?” I sit on the other sofa, keeping as much space between us as possible.
“I’m here for you.” He straightens, and for once, I can’t see the usual disdain in his expression. In fact, he looks almost nervous. “I heard from Tony that you’re getting a tattoo, and I thought you might need some support.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I figured Karson wouldn’t be here for you.”
Pleasure fizzes in my belly, and I try to tamp it down, but my stupid crush won’t be ignored. It rears its head, desperate for any sign of his affection, real or imagined.
“Karson has no idea I’m here,” I confess. “I’ve hardly spoken to him since… well, you know.”
His brows knit together. “I thought you guys were connected at the hip.”
I scoff, even though most people believe that exact thing. “I’m angry at him for what he did. It’s not okay.”
His eyes widen and he leans closer. “The drugs?”
“Yeah. But not just that. He always talked down about people who needed an extra edge to compete in the big leagues, and now it turns out he’s a cheat.” I let the air whistle through my teeth. “What a hypocrite.”
Leo just looks at me for a moment, and I can see the cogs turning in his head, but then he nods in acknowledgment and changes the subject. “So, do you have anyone coming to keep you company?”
“No.” I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. Being around him makes me nervous. Especially when he’s so cordial. I’m used to his scornful glances—or being overlooked completely. This sudden interest is throwing me off. “Why are you here?”
He cocks his head. “I told you. I thought you might want company.”
“You’ve never shown any interest in keeping me company before. In fact, you seemed pretty eager to get rid of me the other day.”
His shoulders sink. “You’re right. I was a dick, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve been judging you based on Karson, and I’m beginning to think that was a mistake.”
The admission surprises me. I know Leo likes to see things in black and white, so for him to admit he might have missed some shades of gray matters. “Perhaps,” I agree. “But you might not have been totally wrong either." Interest flares in his eyes, and heat shoots to my core in response. I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything, but my subconscious isn’t listening. “You don’t need to stay. I can handle this alone.”
He smiles, and it might be the first honest smile he’s ever given me. Golden and glorious. God, he’s devastatingly handsome. “I want to be here. If that’s okay with you.”
I glance down at my hands because I can’t handle the intensity of his gaze. Do I want him here? He stirs up such mixed emotions in me. But I’m admittedly nervous and having moral support, in whatever form it comes, surely can’t hurt. “Thank you. It would be nice to have someone to take my mind off the whole needle thing.”
“Hello.”
We both turn at the sound of a voice, and my jaw drops. I whimper a little bit. Standing in front of me is one of the hottest specimens of manhood I’ve ever seen. His artfully tousled black hair falls around his face, shaping a chiseled jaw. He holds out a hand toward me, and the muscles of his colorfully-tattooed forearm flex. The eyes that settle on me are a startling shade of blue—so pale it’s almost unnatural.
“You must be Camile.” He continues holding his hand out and smiles. Goose bumps break out over my flesh. “I’m Mercy. I’ll be doing your tattoo today.”
It might be my imagination, but I think I hear Leo growl. Jolting back to reality, I shake Mercy’s hand. The moment he releases me, I touch the corner of my mouth to make sure I’m not drooling.
“Hey.” Mercy turns to Leo. “Leo Delaney, right?”
