I pressed my hands to my face. “This is insane.”
“It’s not insane.”
“It absolutely is.”
Rome crossed his arms. “I have no plans to put hands on the guy unless I need to.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It’s honest.”
I dropped my hands. “Please don’t get arrested.” I wasn’t going to be able to talk him out of this.
He smirked. “We’ll try not to, but if I do, I doubt I’ll be in their long. I’ve tattooed all the cops in this town.”
“God help us,” I sighed.
He looked around the shop. “You done here?”
“Almost.”
“Come over to Bad Habit.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Come hang out with me.”
“I’m tired.”
“I know.”
“I still have cleaning,” I countered.
“I’ll help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“I know.” Of course he said that. Because Rome always knew I could do things myself. He just showed up anyway.
“I have an appointment coming in at eight-thirty,” he said. “Small piece. Won’t take long.”
“You want me to sit in your tattoo shop while you work?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I like having you around.”
Just like that. No smooth line. No big explanation. Just truth.
My heart squeezed. “Rome.”
“What?”
“I really am tired.”
“Then sit and be tired at my shop.”
