He reached out and touched my chin with his thumb—soft, gentle, as if he was sure I would break under the slightest pressure. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m here for you, and I want to help?”
“You can’t bubble wrap me, Ink.”
“Try me.”
“I’m serious.”
“And so the fuck am I.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “You can try to ignore it, even fight it if that makes you feel more in control. But in the end, you know just as well as I do that there’s something here. There’s something between us, and pretty soon you won’t be able to ignore it anymore.”
I licked my lips, his brown eyes dark and determined, threatening to break down the walls around me, one emotional wound at a time. It scared me, thinking this man had the power to take my hardened heart and make it vulnerable again. I was already a mere shadow of myself, and all I had left was the air in my lungs forcing life into my veins.
“You have to stop. I have nothing to offer you, Ink.”
His thumb gently brushed down my lips. “You have everything I want.”
The kitchen door slammed shut, shattering the moment into pieces of glass. I took a step back, noticing Dutch had left. A part of me felt thankful the moment passed. It had become too heavy—a weight I wasn’t ready to carry yet.
I cleared my throat. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Oh, yeah.” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. “I was thinking about Red’s offer to tattoo the scars on your back.”
“Ink, I don’t think—”
He slammed the piece of paper on the counter, and I looked down, a drawing of a large bird, wings spread wide, and what looked like flames surrounding it. “What is that?”
“It’s something I’ve been working on for a while.”
I frowned and reached out to pick it up. “I didn’t know you can draw.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve designed all my tattoos.”
“Is that what this is? A design for a tattoo?”
He nodded. “It’s a phoenix, the bird—”
“That rises from the ashes,” I completed his sentence, staring at the drawing in awe. It was beautiful, the intricate lines drawn with flawless technique. And the detail was amazing, every feather shaded and outlined to perfection. I couldn’t stop myself from tracing my fingertip along the drawing.
“Ink, this is beautiful.”
“I thought it would be perfect, covering your scars with something as magnificent as the phoenix.”
I looked at him, his expression soft and inviting, and all I wanted to do was have him wrap his arms around me, and that scared me too—the fact that Iwantedhim close.
“Neon, I know this is probably easier said than done, but you’ve been knocked down, and getting those scars covered is the first step to getting yourself back up.”
I placed the drawing back down and walked to the other side of the counter, leaning against the wall, a heavy silence surrounding us. “You really think ink will cover the scars?”
He bit his lip and craned his neck, looking at the ceiling, hands on his sides. Suddenly, the atmosphere around us felt heavy, the silence laden with something unspoken, the prelude to a moment that had the potential to change the course of our conversation.
With a heavy sigh, he roughed his hand through his hair before grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head. His black hair was ruffled, a perfect mess as he tossed his shirt on the floor.
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing?”
“I need to show you something.”
As my gaze raked over his naked chest, I realized that I had never seen him without a shirt before. For years, I lived with these men, and I was used to them walking around half naked. Fuck, I’d seen Granite completely naked right after he and Alyx…no, not going there.But Ink, he had never walked around without a shirt—at least not for me to see. And now, all I could do was stand there and stare at him, taking in every roped muscle, his heavy-set chest perfectly defined with power and strength. I never saw it before now—I never sawhim.
Tattoos covered every inch of his skin, disappearing down his pants and stretching all the way up to his neck. Roses, crosses, clocks, skulls—there were images of so many things, it would take me hours, maybe even days to study each and every tattoo. The silver studs pierced through both nipples glinted under the kitchen light, the perfect accessory to the canvas.