Chapter Three
Reid
“Did she really just tell me to keep the penis?” I asked, trying not to be utterly charmed by the woman who’d just sprinted across the hallway to the bathroom.
The Hazel I knew—or thought I knew—was likely in there muttering to herself in mortification.
“Shut up, Reid. You know you make her nervous.”
“Is she ever going to get over that?”
“Probably not,” Charley laughed, checking the hallway to make sure no one was listening before she stepped toward me. “She’s anxious about tonight. And you know she overthinks everything and freaks herself out. She was supposed to be in here relaxing so she could flirt with some eligible bachelors, but you’ve clearly undone what I was trying to achieve.”
My neck prickled with irritation as I thought about what would happen shortly. Charley’s little dating experiment seemed kind of cool from the outside, but I still didn’t understand why she’d roped Hazel into it.
“Speaking of…” Charley led, lowering her voice again. “You’re not really going to play poker with the guys. It’s canceled because Hudson had to go deal with something at home. So, it’s going to be our little secret that you will now be bachelor number seven.”
“What? No.” Charley had already tried to rope me into this thing and Hudson had been very vocal about me not taking part. I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want me flirting with his sister or if he thought I was too much of a slut—his words—to take it seriously. But I’d quickly been eliminated from his selection process.
“Yes.”
“No, not with…” I gestured across the hallway toward where Haz was still hiding in the bathroom. “She’ll freak out. You know she will. Even if I manage not to flirt with her, she won’t be happy when you tell her.”
“That’s why we’re not telling her. I can tell you her number, so you act aloof and distant if you really don’t like her like I think you do, and then I won’t have to figure out which woman to cut because the numbers are uneven.”
I wasn’t even touching the bait of her trying to figure out if I liked Hazel. Watching from afar was about as close to her best friend as I was going to get. Hazel didn’t go for guys like me. She went for nice fuckers like that pretty boy baseball player who’d followed her around way too closely at the Halloween party.
“Does it even matter that the numbers are even?” I whispered, trying not to draw attention to our conversation for fear Hazel might overhear it. “The women don’t have a limit on who they give their numbers to. And there isn’t any guarantee that people will follow through on texting. The outcome won’t be any different if I do it or not.”
“But then the numbers won’t match up for the rotations.”
“You’ll figure it out. You’re a smart girl.”
“Reid,” she growled, hands on her hips. “If you don’t do this, I’m going to take Hazel to Butterfly Ridge and have my cousin’s friend consult on the tattoo she’s been talking about.”
Charley was fighting dirty. I knew it was ridiculous, but I was very possessive of my friends’ skin. Not in a creepy, serial killer way. In a concerned tattooist way.
If they were making the commitment to permanently mark their skin, I wanted to make sure it was done correctly. With over a decade of experience, I knew my way around a tattoo gun and always ensured my clients were satisfied after it was done. Some were very, very satisfied .
“Her friend is looking for people to practice on for free.”
Which was how I’d started, too. But no one that inexperienced was touching Hazel’s flawless skin.
I might not have a fancy art degree in illustration, but I’d been winning regional art contests since I was ten years old. If my family had been able to afford tuition, I would’ve gone to somewhere like Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design, like Hazel.
Unfortunately, most of the prestigious art schools were on either coast, and I’d barely been able to scrape enough money together to get my associates in business management at the community college.
Then I’d busted my ass while I apprenticed at a shop near Boulder before I came back home to open my studio in Sage Springs the year Hudson took over the bar for his old man.
“Come on, she’s coming back out soon, and she’ll freak if she knows I asked you.”
“Which is why this is a terrible idea.”
She eyed me, lifting a brow. “Or it’s an opportunity you shouldn’t squander. I’ve watched you two dancing around each other for months. You clearly need help seeing what’s right in front of you. So maybe not being able to see each other will help.”
“Hudson would kill me.” Especially since my thoughts about his little sister had not been innocent lately. Not since the night she’d nailed Hudson’s ex in the crotch with a bat like a fierce little angelic warrior—wearing a halo to boot.
“He’d only kill you if you took advantage of her. You’re not going to do that, are you?” Judging by the tone of her voice, I felt like I was being set up. “And if you take advantage of her, it will be because she asked for it.”
“What does that…”
She held up her hand, whispering the sentence that sealed my fate.
“Because he’d want someone he loves to treat his sister with respect. And who better to do that than his best friend? His best friend who hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off her for months. Who would make sure she enjoys her first time? You, or some inexperienced college boy who might not know what he’s doing?”
“Charley…” I growled, clenching my jaw and balling my fists at my sides.
“I’ll see you in a bit, then. Go wait outside until I text you.”
“Seriously?”
“Do you want to know her number, or are you going to guess?”
It wouldn’t take me much effort to guess. If Hazel wore a paper bag over her head, I’d still be able to pick her voice out of a crowd.
“She’s going to kill both of us.”
“Not if you’re as charming as you think you are. Then she will definitely not be killing you. Jumping you, maybe. But not killing.”
Before I could curse her for trying to drag me into this, she was turning on her heel and disappearing into the bathroom to retrieve her best friend.
Her best friend I had been imagining in a very inappropriate way for months.
Who was the little sister of my oldest friend.
And the last person I should have been touching.
But the thought of anyone else laying their hands on her had me escaping out the back door of the bar and waiting for a text I should have ignored.
Charley: It’s showtime.
Reid: I want it noted that I’m doing this under duress.
Charley: Noted. Now get in here and convince my best friend to give you her number.
Reid: No guarantees. I might not be her type.
Charley: Trust me, you’re her type.
And that was exactly what I was afraid of. Because I had started to think she was my type, too.
Mikey, the bouncer who’d worked here for years, smirked as he held the door open, gesturing toward the side of the temporary wall where a group of men loitered next to the bar. “Have fun. Try to leave some numbers for the rest of them, charmer.”
“Just here as a favor,” I whispered, patting him on the chest as I passed.
“Charley might be persuasive, but we both know why you’re here. Or should I say who you’re here for?” The laughter that followed was obnoxious.
“Not you too,” I groaned, hoping I hadn’t been that blatant with my observations of a certain redhead.
“I get paid to watch people all night, and you haven’t exactly been subtle the last few weeks. I’m going to make an educated guess it’s because you haven’t been laid in a while. At least not by anyone drinking here. Because I’ve seen you turning away tail left and right.”
“Does everyone think I’m a slut?” I growled, hating that everyone in my life seemed to know way too much about my sex life.
“Nah, you’re young and you’re not tied down yet, but you kind of have a reputation around here. At least you did.”
“Maybe tonight will change that.”
“Maybe,” he laughed, slapping me on the shoulder. “I hope you get what you came here for. She needs someone fun who won’t take advantage of her. Which you’re not going to do, right?”
“Fuck, why in the fuck does everyone think I’m going to take advantage of her? You think I enjoy feeling like this?”
“Dude, you gotta get a hold of yourself before you sit down in that chair.” He nodded toward tables lining the temporary walls with fourteen chairs waiting for the fourteen victims—or bachelors, as Charley kept calling them. Lowering his voice, he continued. “Because those college boys came to play, so if you want a chance, you’ve gotta take it.”
Before I could respond, Charley noticed me lingering by the door and dragged me away, pressing a glass into my hand before pushing me toward the chair at the table with a sign taped to the back with a number seven printed on it.
“Lucky number seven, Reid. Come with me.”
Sniffing, I realized she’d given me water instead of vodka, but I probably needed to keep a clear head for the next few hours, anyway.
“I would give you a shot for luck, but this is a dry event.” She aimed me toward the table, picking up a notebook and pressing it into my hand. “This is to take notes. Please take this seriously. I know you’re saving my ass here, but I think this could be good for you too.”
Nodding, I flipped through the book, noting that it was unlined, which was good for me because I had a tendency to doodle when my attention waned during situations with limited visual stimulation.
That was part of why I’d gravitated to tattooing. Drawing had always had a calming effect and my attention to visual projects was much better than any other activity. And since it was something I could listen to music while doing, it was a perfect fit.
“I’m gonna get this show on the road. Just breathe and focus on your objective for the night.”
Sighing, I looked down at her. “Char, if she doesn’t want me like I am, then why is she going to want me two weeks from now after she’s been lied to?”
She gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me down until our noses were practically touching. “Listen here, shit for brains. She likes you, but she’s scared of you. So, you’re going to convince her to give you her number and then you’re going to show her who you are with your pants on, and at the end of two weeks, she’s going to have enough confidence to think she can handle someone like you. And then you’re going to rock her world and treat her like a princess. Because deep down, underneath all that testosterone, we both know you want to settle down, and who better to do it with than a woman who is loyal and funny and has the potential to be the love of your life if you’d get out of your own damn way.”
Charley released her grip on my shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles she caused with her palm. “Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” I murmured, smiling when I realized that my best friend really ended up with his perfect match, and that she was right…maybe it was time for me to find mine.