“A teardrop?”
“Yes.” He shook his head. “No—wait, make it a heart with an arrow through it. People won’t know if it’s a threat or an adorable little Cupid’s heart.”
Laughing, I got up from my stool and pushed him down in it. With my finger under his chin, I tilted his head back. “You sure?”
“Positive. Especially if you draw one on yourself, then we’ll look like a gang.”
I held my eyeliner up. “Let’s start with you, then I’ll think about it.”
Holding in my laughter, I drew a tiny heart next to Murray’s eye, complete with an even tinier arrow. I was no artist, but I thought it looked pretty damn cute.
“Mae-Mae?” he whispered.
“What, crazy man?”
“I can see down your shirt.”
I smacked him on the top of his head. I was wearing a tank top under my ripped up T-shirt tonight, so he couldn’t see a single thing.
Standing up straight, I rolled my eyes. “I thought you accepted I wasn’t going to show you my boob?”
“But one might slip out. I have to stay ready.”
I swatted him again, but he dodged me. “Are you ever serious?”
He blinked up at me. “Why do you think I’m not serious?”
“Well, I’m sure hopin’ you’re not. I don’t think I could be friends with a guy seriously hangin’ around in hopes of seein’ my breasts.”
“Ah.” Murray got up and cracked the door. “I’m not that guy, but sometimes I take shit too far. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Hey.” I touched his shoulder. “You didn’t, but I appreciate you carin’ if you did. I’ve worked in bars for years, I’ve heard more shit than you can imagine—and not from men who’d open a door so I’d feel comfortable bein’ alone in a room with them.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, dipping his chin. “Don’t make me out to be a saint.”
I snorted a laugh. “I wasn’t. Now…” I held out my eyeliner, “I’m ready for my matchin’ heart.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, word? You’re trusting me?”
“I’m trustin’ you to draw a tiny heart on me, yes.”
I closed my eyes, and he tipped my chin back in the same way I’d done to him. His warm hand rested on my cheek as he carefully dragged my eyeliner along my cheekbone.
“This is going to be so lit,” he murmured.
Not wanting to screw him up, I didn’t answer. I held my breath, attempting to stay as still as possible.
“Maeve, you...oh.”
My eyes flew open, finding Santiago in my doorway, glancing back and forth between Murray and me.
“Hey, man. Want to be in our gang?” Murray threw his arm around me, pressing our faces together. “We’re the Cupid Crips.”
I pushed him away, laughing. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” Spinning around, I checked out my reflection. Murray hadn’t done a bad job. I’d been expecting and fearing the worst, but he’d only drawn a tiny heart at the corner of my eye. “You did good. My heart is cute.”
“See? You in, Santiago?” Murray asked.
“Uh, no. I came to find Maeve.”