3. Ty
CHAPTER 3
TY
Working on a client's tattoo usually drowns out everything. It's my focus, my rhythm, my escape. But today, my head's a mess.
Because of her.
Kara.
There hasn't been a minute since I stepped off her porch last night that she hasn't filled my head in ways she never has before.
I adjust the stencil on my client's shoulder and try to concentrate. The blonde sitting in my chair keeps trying to flirt, but I'm barely hearing her. My mind is stuck on last night. How damn close I got to kissing Kara before her phone rang.
That moment. That almost kiss. It's all I can think about.
I know without a doubt that if her phone hadn't rung, I would have kissed her. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. From the moment she opened the door all dressed up, I was a goner.
Everything was easy with her. From getting her favorite flowers to picking where to eat and our effortless conversations. Then standing on her porch and that moment she looked down at my lips, standing so close to me. Something in our relationship shifted, and I wonder if she felt it too.
"You okay?" my client asks, tilting her head to study me. "You seem... distracted."
I force a smirk, shaking off my thoughts. "Just focused. Sit still."
She giggles, thinking I'm playing hard to get. A year ago, I might've gone for it. Flirting, easy hookups, nothing serious. I loved it when a client came in flirting. It took the work out of going out to find a hookup. That was who I was. But now? I’m not.
I'm thinking about my best friend's blush. The way her lips parted when I leaned in. The way she looked at me like maybe--just maybe--she was hoping I'd kiss her.
Damn it.
All last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her, how she’d feel, how she'd taste. Just the thought of making out with her made me so damn hard. Nothing brought me relief.
I know the blonde in front of me would happily offer to take care of things for me, but the thought of anyone but Kara touching me has my stomach rolling. So, I will sit and suffer.
Wrapping up the tattoo, I send the blonde on her way, barely hearing her as she hands me a tip and her number. After waiting until she is out the door, I toss the paper with her number in the trash without a second thought.
Priest watches me from across the shop, arms crossed. "You good?"
I scowl. "Fine."
He chuckles. "Liar. What's got you acting like you don't know which way is up?"
From past experience, he knows I'd have taken that girl up on her offer. He didn't care as long as nothing happened in his shop, all dates and other activities happened on my own time. I respected him enough that I wouldn’t have involved the shop even if it wasn't a rule.
I debate brushing him off, but Priest sees through my bullshit. Always has. Exhaling, I rub the back of my neck.
"Kara."
His eyebrows lift. "Your best friend, Kara?"
I nod. "She asked me for dating lessons."
Priest leans against the counter, smirking, his eyes looking past the wall I have up showing all the tattoos I’ve done. "And you agreed."
"Yeah." I sigh, dragging my hand down my face. "And now I'm losing my damn mind."
He whistles low. "You’re in deep, aren't you?"
I was, wasn't I? One night on a fake date and everything has changed. Feelings I didn't know I had have come out. It makes me wonder if they have always been there and I ignored them. Or are they brand new?
I shake my head. "Doesn't matter. She's got a real date with some guy."
Priest watches me carefully. "And you're cool with that?"
I don't answer. Because no, I'm not cool with that. Not even a little.
Before I can overthink it, I grab my keys. "I'm heading out."
Priest just snorts. "Say hi to Kara for me."
I go right to the Merc and grab some coffee, saying hello to Ruby. If she picked up on my sour mood, thankfully, she doesn't say a word. I pay for the coffees and then walk down to the bookshop.
The bell over the bookstore door jingles as I step inside. The scent of paper and vanilla fills my lungs, grounding me. This place is her. Safe, warm, and something I never realized I needed until now. The mood from just a few minutes earlier is gone and peace washes over me.
And there she is. Behind the counter, grinning at her phone. My stomach twists. Is she texting him ?
That should be me. That smile. That laugh. That life.
I clear my throat. "Hey, Bookworm."
Kara looks at me, and she smiles when she sees me. But then, almost instantly, her expression shifts like she realizes she shouldn't be that happy to see me.
And damn if that doesn't sting.
"Hey," she says, tucking her phone away. "What's up?"
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. "Figured I'd check in. See how you're feeling about your big date."
Her smile falters. "I... I don't know. Nervous?"
This girl doesn't know that guys stare at her everywhere we go and that she'd have so many guys asking her out if it weren't for her always being with me. They assume we are together. Not that I mind the guys leaving her alone.
I nod. "Yeah?"
She bites her lip, looking up at me through her lashes. "Think we could do another lesson?"
I should say no. Should tell her she doesn't need lessons because the truth is, no guy in his right mind would need convincing to fall for Kara.
But I nod instead. "Yeah. We could do that. Maybe a lesson on flirting and some dancing."
Her shoulders relax, and she grins. "Really?"
I smile. "Yeah. But let's do it at my place. No distractions."
I tell myself I suggested my place to prevent the rumor mill of Mustang Mountain from going crazy. Not because I want her undivided attention on me. And not because I might want something else to happen.
Her cheeks turn pink. "Okay."
Oh, fuck. I’m in trouble. That blush is so fucking sexy. She has no idea what she's getting herself into.
And neither do I.
Turning quickly, I walk down the aisle of the bookstore, putting some distance between us, and grab a book that looks interesting from an author I like. Then I go over to the large, plush bean bag chair I bought specifically for when I hang out here. Plopping down, I read while Kara closes the shop and then puts away her most recent shipment of books.
Once she grabs her purse, I set the book down and stand up.
"Why don't we grab dinner and head back to my place?" I ask.
"Sounds good," she says, not quite meeting my eyes.
"Pizza?" I ask, even though I know she won't say no. We both love pizza.
"Yeah, sounds good."
So many times we’ve grabbed a pizza and gone either to her place or mine to watch a movie or hang it out. But this time it feels different. It feels like a new beginning. Maybe even something pivotal?