“She must be pretty fuckin’ special to have you this twisted up.”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Yeah, she is. Smart as hell. Stubborn as shit. Drives me crazy most of the time.”
“Holy shit.” Jax rests his chin on his arms. “You’re actually into her. Like,reallyinto her.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“This is a huge deal! You haven’t been serious about anyone since Melissa, and that was what, over ten years ago?”
Suddenly, I remember. Melissa is my ex-fiancée. The one who left me for someone else before I came back from my second tour.
Jax’s face falls when he sees my expression shift. “Shit, man. I’m sorry for bringing her up. That was a dick move.”
I wave him off, trying to shake off the memory of the Dear John letter and the all months I drank myself stupid over it. “It’s fine. Ancient history.”
“No, it’s not. I know better.” He shifts in his seat, and quickly changes the subject. “So, when do we get to meet her? Claire’s gonna want to give her the third degree, you know.”
“Not happening,” I say firmly, turning back to my station.
“Come on,” Jax persists. “You can’t keep her hidden forever. Bring her to the shop’s anniversary party this weekend.”
“I’m not hiding her. It’s just…” My brain screeches to a halt. “Anniversary party?”
“Dude, seriously? The ten-year anniversary bash we’ve been planning for months? Saturday night? Ring any bells?” Jax looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “We rented out The Brew for the whole night. Everyone’s coming—clients, artists, friends. It’s gonna be epic.”
Another memory slams into me out of nowhere.
Shit.
“Right,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “That party.”
“So? Are you gonna bring her, or what?”
The idea of Noia in a room full of tattooed, hard-drinking shop regulars makes me hesitate. But the idea of showing her off? It makes something warm and possessive flare in my chest.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.
“That’s not a no,” Jax grins, clapping me on the shoulder as he stands, spinning the chair back around.
I pull my phone out of my pocket to check if there are any messages from Noia.
Nothing.
Disappointed but resigned to give her a chance to stew over what I might have planned for her after I get home from work, I slide my phone back into my pocket just as my client walks over, looking nervous.
“Hi,” she says timidly. “I’m Jess. I have an appointment for a cover-up?”
“Hey, Jess,” I smile and gesture at the chair. “I’m Ryder. Let’s talk about what we’re going to do with that name on your wrist.”
As I work, I stress about Noia and bringing her to the party this weekend.
This could be a chance to see how she fits into this new part of my life that’s becoming more real every day. It’s also another chance to show her that what’s happening between us is so much more than what goes down in some fictional romance novel.
TWENTY-ONE
noia
“Well,thatjust happened,”I say to Goonie.
