“Thanks,” she says breathlessly, wiping her hands on her jeans. “These lights are a bitch to hang.”
“They look good.” I glance around, impressed by how much they’ve already accomplished. “Need help with anything else?”
“Yeah, actually. Owen just dropped off the centerpieces. They’re in those boxes over by the DJ booth. Could you start setting them up on the tables?”
I nod and make my way over to open a box. Each centerpiece is a small, vintage tattoo machine surrounded by black and red roses, which was Claire’s idea.
As I work, I wonder what Noia is going to think about all this. Will she feel comfortable around my friends and colleagues? Will they like her? Fuck… will she likethem?
Just the idea of those two parts of my life colliding is more than unnerving.
THIRTY-THREE
noia
“You know what?”Struck with inspiration, I sit up. “I’m starving and I really need to get out of this house before I lose my mind. There’s this cute little diner right across the street from Ryder’s tattoo shop. We could grab some breakfast.”
Sasha’s face lights up with mischief. “You want to do a reconnaissance mission on your fictional-turned-real boyfriend’s tattoo parlor? I’m one hundred percent in.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” But my protest comes out weak.
“Honey, the man carried you over his shoulder like a caveman. Sounds like boyfriend territory to me.” She turns to head upstairs. “Besides, I want to see the place where all the magic happens.”
“The magic happens here,” I correct her, then immediately blush when I realize how that sounds.
“I mean histattoomagic,” she snickers down at me from the top step. “But clearly your mind is elsewhere. Give me five minutes to finish getting ready.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in Sasha’s car heading toward town. I direct her through the winding roads until we reachMain Street, where most of the small businesses are clustered together.
“That’s it,” I say, pointing at the building to my right. “And the diner is just there, across the street.”
Sasha pulls into a parking spot in front of the diner and cuts the engine. “Perfect location for spying.”
“We’re not spying,” I insist, my stomach fluttering with nervous excitement. “We’re just... having breakfast in a strategic location.”
Rise & Dine is exactly what you’d expect—red and white checkered floors, black vinyl booths, with the smell of coffee and waffles saturating the air. We grab a front booth by the window that provides a clear view of Skin & Ink Tattoo.
“So that’s where he works,” Sasha muses. “It looks... nice.”
“What did you expect? Some little shop in a seedy back-alley with a flashing neon sign?”
“Kind of, yeah,” she admits with a laugh. “Given how you described him as broody and dangerous.”
A waitress comes over and hands us menus. “Morning, ladies. Welcome to Rise & Dine. What can I get you?”
After we both order the Belgian waffle special, I steal a glance across the street.
“You know, it’s so weird. Even though I’m the one who thought him up, he’s got this whole other life now that has nothing to do with me,” I say, stirring cream into my coffee. “Friends, a business, clients who know and trust him.”
“That’s what makes this all so fascinating.” Sasha leans forward, resting her arms on the table. “He’s becoming real in every sense of the word. Pun intended,” she grins and I roll my eyes.
“You know how he’s been taking me on day dates for inspiration?”
“Yeah.”
“He took me for a ride on his motorcycle up the coast to this little seafood place. It was...” I pause, searching for the right words. “It was actually perfect.”
Sasha leans back, looking impressed. “Damn, girl. That’s romantic as hell.”
