26. Hailey
My side screams as I lift my arm and knock on the door. It’s my fault. I rushed Hard. Now, I’m rushing my guys to open the door. Ringing the bell didn’t gain me entry.
What’s my next move? Screaming through the small gap at the bottom of the door? Calling their phones? Taking a stab at the code on the lock’s pad?
I almost canceled on Hard. Hearing about what my plan did to Hota and seeing the reaction on Arlo’s face killed me. Not for a second did I think a happy surprise could go so horribly wrong.
The lock flicks and the door swings wide.
Much like the last time I was here, Hota stands bare-chested in the doorway. Only this time, there are two long lines scabbed over his pec. Two lines for me.
Whew!
I get that thump against my sternum like my heart is trying to toss itself at Hota with wild abandon.
It is. I am.
He’s carved in ink and flesh. While I love what he did to me the other night, I want him in the daylight, where I can see his every sharp angle meet my soft curves.
His brow is pinched, and his jaw flexes. “We fucked.”
I can’t fight my grin. “Yes, we did.”
He drags in such a heavy breath I swear the walls move. “Yes, we did, but that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I do.” My smile grows.
His big hand drags down his face and squeezes his neck.
My knees go wobbly.
“Do you have anything to say about your boyfriend fucking me?” He squeezes tighter.
“About time, don’t you think?” I set my bag just inside the door. I step to Hota, lift my arms, and wrap them around his nape, forcing him to drop his hold.
He lowers enough to allow my reach, and then his arms are around me, squeezing against my raw side. I hold him tight and bury my face in his neck, apologizing without words, for now, for the pain I caused.
I pull back and kiss his neck. “He’s yours too.” My lips graze his jaw, then his lips.
“What do you mean?” His grip goes impossibly harder around me, pinching the side buckle of my coat into my searing skin.
An unwelcome hiss slips between my teeth.
Hota releases me instantly. His eyes go wide. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Then before I can answer a single one of the barrage of questions, his mouth falls open. “A tattoo.”
“Yes.” But not just any tattoo.
“Fuck.”
He falls to his knees in front of me. His hands grip the openings of my coat and he pulls me forward. The weight of his head presses between my breasts.
“I’m so sorry, Hailey.” His fingers tighten. “Fuck, I’m an asshole. Arlo should have been there with you. I should have known…” He groans.
I thread my fingers through his mussed hair and tug his head back. My head shakes. “Don’t you dare apologize.” His lips part on a rebuttal that I stop with my fingers on his soft lips. “You were hurt because you care. I’m beyond grateful that you do. Beyond.”
After all, this ink on my skin is forever. Whether he reciprocates my feelings or not, it won’t change, and neither will my feelings for him. It’s a step out onto a limb that seems solid, but there’s always a chance it will snap under the weight.
The arch of his cheeks and the swell of his jaw meet my slowly exploring fingers as my other hand makes its way to his lips, covering them completely.
“I’m sorry my actions hurt you.” Tears fill my gaze. “That was not my intention at all, but I didn’t communicate with you very well.”
“Neither of us did.” Arlo’s voice filters in from where he’s propped at the entryway to the kitchen. He pushes off and heads our way.
When he reaches us, his hand sinks into my hair while the other does the same to Hota. “It was meant to be a surprise. One that Hailey wanted to do…” His gaze slips to me.
“For you,” I finish, looking at Hota.
His gaze falls to my side like he wants to see it, but his thick lips form a line under my fingers. The disappointment with himself bleeds through his eyes.
“You didn’t know,” I remind. He tries to move his lips, but I don’t let him. “I’m glad Arlo was here with you, doing what he couldn’t for too long. It makes this even more special,” I say, finally pulling my hands from his mouth and pointing toward my side.
“Her most meaningful tattoos, she got for herself by herself,” Arlo adds.
“Up,” I order.
Hota presses a kiss between the valley of my breasts, through my clothes, and then stands. Arlo pulls us into his chest, careful not to grab my ribs. His lips graze my forehead, and then Hota’s jaw.
“Let’s eat before it gets cold.” He steps back and takes my coat while Hota finally closes the door and locks it.
There’s a chill in the air I didn’t expect in here. I shiver and rub my arms. “Is it cold in here, or am I anemic?”
Both the men burst at the seams. Their laughter fills the corridor, chasing away the cold.
“What?” I smile.
Arlo puts his arm around me, pulling me down the hall, while he smiles over his shoulder at Hota. “I might have brought him out onto the balcony to show his neighbors who he belongs to.”
“He left the door open,” Hota grumbles. The twinkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips says he doesn’t actually care if the door stayed open forever, so long as Arlo was the cause of it.
“Maybe I should take him on the balcony too.” I wink at him over my shoulder.
“Dessert,” Arlo purrs.