Everly gives me the side-eye. Telling me to lay off of it, before he and I end up fighting.
“G, wants us to grab a few more drop cloths and paint rollers on our way over.”
“Already got ’em,” I mumble out. It wasn’t crazy to think ahead and assume that G would need more paint supplies if she was enlisting our help in painting her shop. We’ve all been working for the past few weeks to help her get it in good shape for her grand opening. My family volunteered whenever they had free time, and tonight she offered pizza and beer in exchange for the final touches. Michael and Dad were going to help her with some lighting fixtures and the rest of us were tasked with painting before the furniture was delivered.
“I’m really hoping she’s wearing those overall short things again. Ev, your friend is hot as fuck. DAMMIT!”
I slammed on my brakes to shut him up. He’s right, she’s insanely hot. Even her new look, with the blonde hair and all the tattoos. You add that to the way she laughs and can tell a person off at the drop of a hat. It’s an instant hard-on for me. He can agree, but I don’t like him calling it out.
“I hit my nose on the goddamn headrest. Shit, Ev, am I bleeding? Ease up, man,” Law whines.
Everly gives me another side-eye and turns back to her phone, but not before smiling. She sees it. I know she does, but I’m not about to confirm her suspicions. Especially when, really, I’m supposed to be staying away.
Instructed to steer clear.
As soon as I park my truck out front of Hideaway Ink and take a look through the big front windows, my mouth salivates. Yeah, she’s wearing those overall shorts, only this time, instead of a white tank underneath, she’s got on some kind of black sports bra thing. Cropped short enough that I can see a patch of skin from beneath her breasts and down the side of her stomach. I could easily imagine tasting that piece of real estate in a slow path of discovery. Take a lap around her hips and torso, nibbling my way from the curve of her breasts to the swell of her ass.
As soon as she sees us pull up, she climbs down from the ladder, and I salivate as I watch her thick thighs move down the rungs.
“You guys are the absolute best!” she calls out as she opens the front door. “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to repay the favor.”
Bend over and let me show you.Though, also not part of the deal I made.The fucking deal that might just kill me slowly.I keep my mouth shut. I pull out the supplies from the back of my truck and move inside, past her, without saying a word.
“You could pay me back by squeezing me in for a tattoo appointment,” Everly says.
“Oh, please.” G waves her off as she goes back up the ladder to finish painting some trim. “You never need an appointment with me. You tell me what you’re thinking, and we’ll make it happen. I’m your girl.”
“I already have a girl,” I say in response. Without thinking, I blurt it out.
G stares coldly at me, and if I had blinked, I would have missed the way her eyebrows furrowed when I said it. I regret saying it the second she schools her reaction and plasters a fake, bullshitting smile in response.
“Yeah, Henry’s got someone he goes to in New York. Goes there enough that he’s made it a consistent thing. So, G, I’ve got some thoughts on a design for my back,” Law says from back of the space, pouring out a can of black paint into the roller dish. “G, you want this black on the back wall? On both sides of the opening, right?”
“Yes, please. You can get it on the ceiling too. I’m going to do the ceiling black as well. I want to get some murals up there over time since that’s where most customers are staring when they’re being worked on.”
“Everly, you have to see the insane light we just put in back in the office. When it’s lit, it looks like an oversized flower,” Dad says from the doorway.
“Hi, Daddy. I forgot you and Michael came early,” Everly says. I don’t miss her whisper to him a thank you for helping out her friend.
I start taping up around the front window, trying to keep my attention set on the task in front of me and not the tempting pixie on the ladder behind me. I can hear the muffled conversation between my brothers and dad in the back of the shop, talking about how great the renovations came out, from the floors to the clean design.
Griff’s shop was old school. A stereotype in a lot of ways for what a tattoo shop is assumed to look like. A dark space that always smelled like cigarette smoke and was covered wall to wall with photos of every tattoo he had ever done. It had a nostalgic vibe, but that wasn’t what G had in mind. She was about to turn this place into a modern style art gallery, where ink and skin were her tools and canvas. And what she had done was incredible. I had looked at her work. Her posts on social media and some of the oversized images she had blown up to hang in the space. They weren’t on skin, but the artwork was her original designs. They were detailed and bright. So clear and detailed, they looked like photos and not tattoos.
“Show me.”
I turn around and find G standing a foot away with her arms crossed.
I chuckle at her stance. “Show you what?”
“Your tattoos. The ones thatyour girldid. Show me.”
I turn back around and pull the blue tape taut against the glass, trying to ignore her request. “You’ve already seen them. Remember?”
You remember, Pixie.
“I want to see the new ones. Show. Me.”
If she wants to see, fine. It’s not like I was planning to keep it to myself. Dropping the tape to the ground, I look over her shoulder and see that my family is cracking open beers and just biting into the pizza. Out of earshot and not paying attention to us up here.