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Trent angled his head toward the lobby like he didn’t mind the interruption.
“What?” I mumbled at him.
His eyes widened in emphasis. “Why always such a dick?” He muttered it low enough that there was no chance she could hear. “Wouldn’t hurt you to see what she wants, yeah?”
I knew Trent wasn’t going to let it go, so I blew out a sigh, mouthing,fine, as I stood, and I took two steps to stand in the opening of my station.
Unfortunately for me, it only brought her into better view.
Eyes the color of melted caramel and dappled with cinnamon widened when she got a good look at me, and I could feel a fragment of fear roll through her system, anxiety radiating from her and riding on the air that had grown heavy.
She looked behind her at the door like she was contemplating walking right back out of it.
Yeah, she probably should run.
I hitched my shoulder on the jamb. “You want to schedule an appointment with one of my artists?”
She kept chewing on that damned lip, though she subtly lifted her chin. “I was hoping to get a tattoo tonight.”
There was nothing I could do to keep my attention from roaming over her tight little body, searching every inch of exposed flesh, and my mouth was suddenly salivating because even though I couldn’t see much, I was getting the hunch that this girl had virgin skin.
Not a trace of ink.
I was the twisted fuck whose fingers itched at the idea of marking her for the first time.
I needed to get her the hell out of there. Put fucking five miles between us and do it fast. Knew better than to even consider letting myself get near a girl like that.
A girl who oozed vulnerability.
A sweetness that I could scent and wanted to eat up like it was mine to take.
But there I was, opening my mouth and issuing an invitation I knew better than to speak. “I’m with a client right now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
Nah. I didn’t mention that I had a two-year waitlist.
Disappointment flashed across her face. A face that was too fucking soft, delicate to the extreme, though there was something harrowed that underscored her features and left me antsy. Maybe that was what had me anxious to look closer. What made me want to concede and tell her I’d do any-fucking-thing she needed.
But I didn’t fucking do close, and I goddamned needed to remember that.
Before she had a chance to respond, I felt the stirring behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find Trent pushing to standing, all six feet of him filling the confined space, though he was still two inches shorter than me.
He snagged his tee from where he had it tossed on the back of a chair and dragged it over his head.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? We’re in the middle of a session.”
He shrugged the same shoulder I’d been tatting, paying no mind that it was oozing ink and blood. Dude never would take care of that shit no matter how many times I’d threatened him that I wouldn’t do his work any longer if he didn’t.
“Seems someone needs this spot a little more than I do. Besides, my arm’s on fuckin’ fire. Need a break. I’ll text you next week to set another time.”
He gave me a look like he was doing me a favor.
I sent him a scowl because the last fuckin’ thing I needed was to be boxed in this space alone with this girl.
“Yeah, and that’s going to be two years from now,” I grumbled at him, part of me wanting to argue him leaving and the other part sure I couldn’t get him out of there fast enough.
Chuckling, he clapped me on the back. “Ah, I think you’ll make time for me.”
“You’ve got to at least let me wrap that,” I told him, and he sat back down, lifting the sleeve of his shirt. I did it quickly while he sat there grinning like the asshole knew something I didn’t, and the second I had the piece covered, he wound around me and sauntered all kinds of casual across the lobby of my shop.
