My hands shook as I reached up and peeled the tape off Kaiden’s bicep. Once the bandage was off, there was no going back. The giant pink flame symbol had to be six inches wide by six inches long—you couldn’t miss it from down the block. Everything that came after that seemed to happen in slow motion.
Kaiden looked down. His face wrinkled in confusion. “What the hell is that?”
One of the Tinder ladies covered her mouth. “Oh my God. It’s the Tinder logo. Holy shit! Did this really just happen?”
Kaiden pulled his arm forward to get a better look. “What the fuck, Billie?”
My hands flew to my hips. “Don’t what the fuck me!” I waved my hands around the room. “Don’t you even recognize any of these women?”
He scanned the lobby…the first face, then the second. When he got to the third woman, his eyes flared, and he blinked a few times. Then his eyes darted from person to person as everything seeped in. Kaiden closed his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”
“What the fuck did I do?” I screeched. “Let’s see. I made you dinner when you had to work late. I rubbed your back when you said you’d had a hard day on the job site. I even picked up your brother from the airport when he came to visit. But I guess what’s most important here is that I believed you when you said you wanted a relationship and were falling in love with me.”
Kaiden reached for me. I took two steps back and held my hands up. “Don’t touch me.”
“I can explain.”
For some reason, that made me even more irate. As if there could be any explanation for his behavior. I lost it then. Pointing to the door, I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Get out! Get the fuck out!”
I’d been talking to Kaiden, yet one of the women bolted to the door and practically fell out onto the sidewalk.
“Good. Yes.” I nodded. “Good idea. All of you, get the fuck out of my shop! Noooow!”
If I’d been in the right frame of mind, I might’ve appreciated the humor in the scene unfolding. A six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound tattooed man made a beeline for the door—running away from a five-foot-one lunatic who’d just tattooed a giant pink Tinder flame logo on his arm. He was so nervous he almost trampled a few of the Tinder bitches to get out the door.
Once the last of them was on the street, I closed the door, closed my eyes, and tried to calm down.
Then a man’s voice sprung my eyes back open.
“Uh… I guess this isn’t a good time,” the cute narc said, the one person besides Justine and me remaining in my shop.
“Yeah, probably not,” Justine murmured. “Maybe come back another day.”
But I’d snapped, and it was going to take more than Kaiden leaving to glue me back together. I marched over to the counter with a deranged smile. “No, don’t go. What would you like me to tattoo on you?” My voice went eerily flat. Also, for some reason, my eyes were no longer blinking.
He looked a little nervous. “Uhh… I’m not sure.”
I tilted my head. “No? Then let me help you. Where do you get the women you fuck behind your girlfriend’s back? How about the Bumble logo?” I lifted a finger into the air. “Or maybe Plenty of Fish in the Sea? That’s kind of cute. A colorful little fish? Or maybe Hinge? I can probably knock an H out in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”
The poor guy just kept staring at me.
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, what’s it going to be? I don’t have all day.”
I noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. It looked like there was a picture on it. I snatched it and started to laugh maniacally. “A rose? A fucking rose. How cliché can you be? You must already have an infinity symbol, huh?” I tossed the paper at the guy. He made no attempt to catch it.
“You know what?” He thumbed toward the door. “I’m just going to go…”
“Good! You’re probably an asshole too! You know how I know? Because you’re all assholes.”
The guy smiled sadly at Justine. “Thanks for your help.” He pulled open the door, but stopped before walking through. “I’m guessing you must be Billie?”
When I didn’t answer, he shook his head. “Okay then. It was nice to meet you. By the way, I’m Colby Lennon, your new landlord.”
CHAPTER 2
Colby
Holden came over bright and early the next morning to fix the leaky sink in my kitchen. I could’ve done it myself, but he knew how important weekends were for me—the only full days when I could spend quality time with my daughter, Saylor. Holden wasn’t just the handyman around here, though. He was now part owner of the building, along with me and two of our other good friends. As a career musician, Holden didn’t technically have a day job, so when he wasn’t touring, he handled repairs around the building. He’d grown up helping his dad, who was a contractor, so he knew how to fix pretty much anything. He’d held many odd jobs before becoming our permanent handyman.