Page 25 of Midnight Ink

He shakes his head, but I see the smile he’s trying to hide. Damn. “Come on, Ian. I think if you left here without kissing me, it’d be a tragedy. I’d go so far as to say bad luck. We’d be mocking fate right in the face after it was nice enough to bring us together on our special day.”

“You really don’t stop talking?”

“I told you. Only when I’m kissing a fine man” I grin wide. All teeth. “Come on, Ian. Shut me up.”

I think he’s going to give me the finger.

Instead he leans in.

For a moment he just brushes my lips as if struggling with the idea of giving in to me, lingering for a moment before he presses the full weight of his lips to mine. Then he deepens it, slow and certain, and it ignites something inside me I’m not ready for. I know I asked for this, and part of me was just teasing, but he’s fucking me all the way up. This kiss.

Finally, he pulls back as if he didn’t just steal the breath from my lungs. I can already feel the dumbass grin on my lips.

“Idiot.” He sinks back into the chair.

“Oof. You liked kissing me.”

“I liked the silence.” But his freckles pop against the soft blush on his cheeks.

I grin, leaning in, kissing him once more. Firmer, my thumb sweeping along his jaw. I can feel something hit my chest, and although I just met him, I have a feeling it’s more permanent then the tattoo on his wrist.

“I think you like me.”

His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek before he smirks. Then he looks down, taking in the tattoo. “Why give this to me?”

“So you can remember me when you leave.”

“Who says I want to remember you, Maddox?” Those bluish eyes go hazy, and yeah, damn. My heart amps up a touch. He’s got really pretty lips.

“Ian.” I smile. “If I have it my way, you’ll never forget me.”

SIX

JULIAN

I’ve worn a path into the concrete. I’m pacing around the block now between the shop and my apartment. I should go home, but I can’t. I’m restless and angry.

And hurt.

I know I didn’t know Maddox. I get it, but still. I know Ian. I can’t imagine wanting the person you love to go through this alone. I didn’t know Maddox, but if he loved Ian like I think he did, I know he wouldn’t want to see him like this.

Something has to give. Somewhere.

After I find a spot to eat, I think about turning toward my apartment, but instead I find myself halfway back to the shop. It’s been a little over an hour now. I just need to talk to him. If I go home, I know I’ll spend the rest of my day off just playing everything back and driving myself crazy with maybe I should have and maybe I shouldn’t have.

When I get to the shop something prickles the back of my neck as I reach for the door. I wonder if Jamie went back to the lake house, or if he’s still here. His family owns this house on the waterfront just through the woods next to the park. We’ve been there a couple of times. It’s really nice. Jamie and Noah spend a lot of time here lately. Nearly every other weekend they make the trip up here.

When I open the door, I know something’s wrong. I step through and it takes a moment for my brain to process what I’m seeing. “Fuck!” I run over to Ian passed out with vomit down his shirt. Thank god he’s sitting in the chair and not lying down.

I cover my nose and look at his planner. Shit. I hate to do it, but he obviously can’t tattoo like this. I wait for the number to pick up and hear a woman’s voice on the other end. I apologize for the short notice and tell her there’s been an emergency. She’s a little pissed, I can tell. Last minute cancellations are shit, but there’s nothing I can do. I tell her Ian will call her tomorrow to reschedule and take off a percentage of the final amount. She’s satisfied with that and hangs up.

Shit, I don’t think he’ll be tattooing tomorrow either. I have two appointments also, and I think about cancelling them too.

We need help.

First things first, I turn up my nose and pick him up in my arms. We’re about the same size, but his dead weight isn’t helping any. Going upstairs is going to be so much fucking fun. He’s got a bit more bulk than me. Breathing hard up the stairs, I nearly drop him as we make it through the door. “You fucking owe me.”

I need to clean him up. I carry him to his couch and lay him on his side.