“But what if—”
“Whatever that means!”
Fuck.I am just like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Every time he changes his tone like that, it’s like he’s tugging the chain around my neck, pulling me out of whatever hole I’m spiralling into. With me caught deep in his stare, Carey slides his thumbs from my mouth, drags them down my chin and neck until his palms are pressed against me.
“You stay in here and talk to him as long as you need, okay?”
“Okay.”
I try to step back, but Carey grabs my waist and pulls me back in. “I love you, Tek.”
“You fucker, you said it first.”
“I’ve been saying it in my head for weeks.”
I smile and kiss him. It’s hot, and his lips are the sweetest they’ve ever tasted. When I try to pull away, Carey tugs me back in, deepening it for one more intoxicating moment before releasing me with a sly grin. “You don’t have to say it back.”
“But I want to.”
He shrugs. “Save it. Deal with this first. Talk to your brother, then we’ll figure out how to talk to mine.”
Ilean forward on the tattoo bed with both arms as Liv does a one-eighty jump from front to back in front of the mirror. With the hem of her—already way too short—camouflage skirt in hand, she hikes it up even further exposing almost her entire left ass cheek.
“Fuck. It looks so good,” she fawns, craning over her shoulder to get a better angle. “Carey.“ She points to the frames on the wall. "Get down my dick shark.”
He gives an aye-aye salute, kicks off his slippers, then jumps onto the cupboards. “You’re lucky you put a hold on this.”
Liv turns to me, both hands on her hips. “I told ya they’d sell.”
“Just shut up and get back over here.”
“I’m gonna need to go searching for another sketch book,” Carey says, returning to the desk.
“I’ve thrown them all out.”
“Lies. I have full access to your house, remember?”
“Get over here,” I say, patting the tattoo table, and Liv jumps back on stomach first. “Skirt.” She tugs it up and I proceed to clean and wrap it.
“You got anything on the end of next month?” she asks Carey.
“When exactly?”
“March twenty-fifth.”
“Pff.” He waves his hand. “That’s weeks away. I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow.”
“Well lock it in. There’s a rave at an old dairy farm about thirty minutes out of town. My girlfriend will be there. She really wants to meet you.”
I tug Liv’s skirt down. “He’s busy.”
“Says who?” Carey shakes the mouse to activate the computer screen, then starts clicking. “The only thing other than regular bookings that week is your meeting with that clothing company.”
“Ooo.” Liv perches herself on the edge of the table with her legs crossed, leaning over to one side so she doesn’t sit on her new tattoo. “What’s that about?”
“Do you need to stick your nose into everything?”
“Yes,” she and Carey answer in unison.
