10. Avoidance is my Favorite Pastime
ten
Avoidance is my Favorite Pastime
Leah
“ L eah, Leah, Leah!” Amy comes running to my room at the shop. “You’ll never believe it!”
“What?” I ask. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Mr. Sexy Golden Retriever is sitting in our waiting room.”
“What? Dylan? Why?”
“He says he has an appointment with you at four.”
My brow furrows as I look at the calendar on my phone. “It says I have an appointment with Michael.”
“Do you think he lied about his name?”
“Why would he do that?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to make sure he could see you again? It’s sweet!”
“Or creepy,” I argue.
She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s a fine line. Why don’t you want to see him again? ”
“One, I have a ton going on right now. Two, I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend.”
“Why do you think that?”
“His house was way too nice and clean.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, no. One of those clean boys.”
“And there was a picture of some girl. I don’t know. He just seems a little too good to be true.”
“Well, he’s here to get a tattoo, so try to play nice.”
I get a text from Luanne.
Your four o’clock is here.
Thanks for the update.
Amy walks back toward her office, and I head to the waiting room. What the hell is Dylan doing here? Does he think I’m going to give him a booty call or something.
Well, he does have a nice tongue.
I shake my head and try to focus on anything besides that tongue.
When I get to the waiting room, he sits in one of the chairs with his large arms crossed over his chest.
“Michael?” I ask while pursing my lips together.
The second he sees me, he gives me a big smile. And there are the dimples. Damn those dimples. They make me want to let down my guard.
But I’m not nearly that na?ve.
He stands up to follow me back to the room.
The moment we get inside, and I shut the door, I spin around to face him. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Okay, before you kick my ass, just listen.”
“Go on. ”
“I didn’t come here just to be a creepy stalker or something. I figured the other night, you and I had a bet. If you wouldn’t have thrown it, I would’ve been holding up my end of the bargain. I’m a man who always pays his debts.”
“How very noble of you,” I say with a heaping dose of sarcasm. “But it was just a drunken bet. I didn’t expect you to actually let me tattoo you. We were hammered. Last time I got drunk, I announced I was going to buy a raccoon. Doesn’t mean that I actually did it.”
He thinks for a moment. “You look like the type who would have a raccoon as a pet.”
“I know! They’re adorable and look like little bandits. But that’s not the point. The point is—”
“Leah, I get your point. The truth is that I’ve been thinking of getting some ink for a while now. I saw your work on your website and liked it. And you know, I can clear my conscience.” He gives me a wink.
This whole thing is still weird to me, but considering the fact that I need to make some quick cash, I decide to just go with it.
“Do you have any idea what you want?” I ask.
“Not really,” he says. “What do you see the most of?”
“Honestly, I get a lot of everything. What kind of stuff are you into?”
He thinks for a moment. “I love watching movies.”
“What kind of movies? Like porn?”
His deep laugh fills the room. “Sure, I like porn. But I was talking more about regular movies. I’ve got a pretty big collection.”
“Hm. Alright,” I say, grabbing some paper. “Where do you want it? ”
He points to one side of his chest. “I think right about here.”
I start sketching out a design. As my hand furiously moves over the pad, I begin to speak. “You know, usually, if you don’t know what you want, you come in first for a consultation. Then, you come later for the tattoo.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “So, you’re saying you want to see me again?”
“No, you’re lucky I have some extra time tonight. Just giving you a heads up that not everyone is as understanding…and awesome…as I am.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re one of a kind.” The look he’s giving me says he’s thinking about what we did the other night.
A certain warmth spreads over me as I remember it too. I can’t deny that it was a good time.
It doesn’t take me long to finish up a design. Holding it up, I say, “Once I get the outline on you, I will do more shading and make it look much better.”
It’s a film reel with the film unspooling with a clapperboard behind it.
“I love it,” he says.
“If there’s something you want to change, tell me. A tattoo is pretty permanent. I want it to be something you like.”
“Leah, I’m serious. I love it.”
“Alright then, take your shirt off, Sparky.”
I get the drawing on some transfer paper and get everything set up while I ask Dylan a few follow-up questions regarding the tattoo.
A few minutes later, I’m running the buzzing gun over his skin. He seems as relaxed as ever while it bores into his skin .
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies with a nod.
We are silent for a few minutes before he says, “You left in a hurry the other day.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“I thought maybe we could get to know each other better, but you were gone.”
I pop my gum. “Getting attached probably wasn’t a good idea for either of us. Is that why you came? To try to get to know me better?”
“I told you why I came. Maybe we could get to know each other better in the process.”
It doesn’t sound awful, but I remember the photo.
“Maybe not,” I retort.
“Leah, did I do something to make you mad?”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea when clearly, you’re attached.”
“Attached?” He looks confused. “To what?”
“To whatever girl you’re seeing.”
“Leah, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I saw the photo of you and the girl kissing you on your mantle,” I confess.
He thinks for a minute before the lightbulb in his head flips on. “Oh, you mean the picture of my sister kissing me on the cheek?”
I stop tattooing for a second. “Sister?”
“Sister. My twin to be exact.”
My cheeks grow red with embarrassment. “I just thought…your place is so nice…and well decorated. It looks like a woman did it.”
“My other sister and my mom helped to decorate.”
My nose scrunches up. “I feel really dumb.”
“Do you really think I would’ve picked you up at a bar and brought you back to the home I share with my girlfriend?”
My shoulders shrug. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing a guy has done to me.”
He looks appalled. “That’s not me. I’ve been with my fair share of women, but never more than one if I’m committed to someone.”
“Sorry,” I tell him. “I usually assume the worst.”
He gives me a warm smile. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“Sometimes, I can be an ass.”
“Join the club,” he says. “Since I’m here, why don’t we just try to have a good time?”
“Alright,” I agree. “I guess I owe you that.”
He looks at me. “What’s your last name?”
I smirk. “Why do you want to know?”
“Well, as you so eloquently put it the other night, my tongue has been in your cooch. Usually, I’d like to get a girl’s last name first.”
I shake my head and smirk. “Man, you’re such a boy scout.”
His tongue licks the corner of his bottom lip. “I don’t think a boy scout would do the things I did to you the other night.”
“Maybe not,” I say, trying not to smile but failing miserably. “Hargrove. My last name is Hargrove. What about you? Your mail said you were Dylan Lawson, yet my calendar says Michael. ”
He almost looks a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know if you’d see me if I said my real name.” As if my words finally click, he adds, “You looked at my mail?”
My shoulders shrug. “I needed your address to call a ride. I guess we both are a little devious.”
He gets a sexy look in his eye. “Maybe two devious people should go home together.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “You’re awfully brazen to the woman holding a tattoo gun.”
“I’m just saying that we could have some fun together.”
“We did have some fun together.” I pause but know he’s looking for me to say something else. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you did everything right. That’s the problem.”
A wrinkle of confusion appears on his forehead. “How is that a problem?”
“Because I’m a fucking mess.”
“No, you’re—”
I cut him off. “I really am. If you knew what was good for you, you’d stay far away from me.”
“I’ve never been good at knowing what’s good for me.”
“Let me give you some advice. Stay as far away from me as possible.”
“What if I don’t want to stay away?”
I look back down at his tattoo. “Then, you’re a masochist.”
“Maybe I just want to make your sweet pussy come again.”
I’ve heard a lot of dirty talk over the years. I always love a man with a filthy mouth. Something about Dylan doing it is different, though. I think it’s because he doesn’t look like he’d be a dirty talker. Sure, he’s hot. But he looks like the golden boy or something.
Looking at him, you’d never know that the man eats pussy like it’s his job and has the mouth of a porn star.
But I love a good surprise.
When I’m quiet for just a little too long, he says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on too strong. I just…you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll shut up.”
So wholesome.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“About your offer.”
He smiles, causing me to poke my finger into his chest. “Put the dimples away, sir.”
“How about you let me take you out for a drink? It doesn’t have to go any further than that. It’ll be an apology for my unintentional creepiness tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
Should I tell him no and just go home and look up apartments for rent? Yes. But do I want to do anything besides that right now? Also, yes.
Avoidance is my favorite pastime.
And as much as I’ve been doing my best to stay clear from everyone—Amy included—I actually wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with Dylan.
Maybe it’s that his good nature is oddly comforting.
Or maybe I’m eager for a couple more orgasms—because let’s be honest, if we go out for drinks, chances are, I’m going home with him.
I could lie and say, “We’ll see how the night goes.”
But I know myself.
I also know what Dylan is packing.
Going for Round 2 is a no-brainer.
“Okay, sure. Let’s go for a drink.”