Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Hannah
“You survived,” Aspen says as I round her doorway, still scrunching my damp curls from the shower.
“Barely.” I plop down in the chair across from her desk and release a huge puff of air. “Next time I volunteer the team to do something like that, remind me of this moment right here. My arms feel like they’re about to fall off. But it’s done, so there’s that.”
“Any of the guys give you shit?”
“Not really. I could tell by some of their faces they weren’t pleased, but other than that, the only one who said anything was Aiden.”
“Hey guys.” Cammie pokes her head into the office.
“Cammie!” Aspen jumps up from her desk and throws her arms around Cam’s neck. “What are you doing here?”
“I just got off work. Thought I’d stop by and see if all you girls wanted to grab dinner.”
“Aww . . . I can’t today,” I say, looking at the time, then stand to give Cammie a hug. “I have an appointment soon. By the way . . . where have you been lately? I haven’t seen you around.”
“Yeah . . . come to think of it, we haven’t either, and River told me that you haven’t been by their place in a while. Everything okay?”
“I’ve just been kinda hangin’ out, ya know? Doing my own thing . . .” Cammie trails off.
As she tinkers with the paperweight on Aspen’s desk, an idea springs to my mind. “Ooh. You know what? You should come to Vegas with us next week!”
River pops into the office behind Cammie and slings an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, you should totally come.”
“Did y’all forget what happened last time you were in Vegas?” Cammie laughs.
River releases her and plops down in the chair I just got up from, propping her feet up on Aspen’s desk. “Your brother hit the lottery?”
“That’s how I remember it,” Aspen agrees. “Come on! We’ve missed you.”
Cammie hesitates, her lips pressing tightly together. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, Sunshine,” Aiden says, the innuendo lacing his voice as he waltzes into the office.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Carter snaps.
A storm brews behind his eyes as he and Cal saunter in behind Aiden. I wonder if he’s ever gonna let this whole Aiden and Cammie thing go.
“Family meeting?” Cal chuckles under his breath.
Carter turns his head and cuts him a glare, making him laugh even harder.
“We’re trying to get Cam to go to Vegas with us. We can go down a couple of days early and have Mom come with us to watch the kids. It’ll be a good time. . .” Aspen trails off.
“I bet our mom would be glad to come up and help too,” Carter chimes in.
“If Carter’s mom and your mom get together, then you know my mom is gonna wanna come too,” River says to Aspen.
“Let’s make that happen!” Aspen encourages, pulling out her cell.
If I know anything about Katherine and Marcy, it’s that they’re always looking for an excuse to get together.
River groans, “God, I haven’t been out in so long. Come on, Cam, it’ll be fun.”
“We’ll see. You all go ahead and make plans; I’ll let you know something soon. I um . . . I have to go.” Cammie turns around and quickly leaves without another word while Aspen stands there, gaping, with her mouth wide open.
She glances at Aiden. “Know what that was about?”
He shrugs. I love him, but I swear he can be an idiot sometimes. She was just fine until he walked through the door.
“Hey. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” I tell them, then dart out of the room to follow Cammie out into the hallway. “Cammie, wait up!”
She stops but doesn’t turn around, so I move to stand in front of her.
“What’s wrong?”
This is so unlike her. It’s like she’s crawled into a shell, and though I know what that looks and feels like, I don’t know what to do or say. Her pretty blue eyes flick to mine, and as she stares at me, something clicks.
“You’re in love with him.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m not in love with him,” she denies, waving me off and adamantly shaking her head.
I raise a brow, and she huffs a sigh. “Doesn’t matter if I were, there’s someone else.”
“Umm . . . no, there’s not,” I correct her.
The only person he’s been with in a long time is her . . . oh, shit. I think I know what this is about.
“Look. If this is about Sean’s sister . . . you should know Viviana was a one-time thing.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly recovers, blinking rapidly as she shakes her head to clear her thoughts.
“You didn’t know about that, did you?”
“Nope,” she says, rocking back on her heels.
Well, fuck. Me and my big mouth.
“It was a long time ago . . . a revenge plot on Viv’s part .
. . you know what? That doesn’t matter right now.
Please don’t skip out on Vegas because of him.
I know I’ve been wrapped up in my own little world the past few months, and I’m sorry .
. . I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much.
We all have. Please come with us?” I beg.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She hugs me, and before I can say anything else, she heads down the hallway toward the exit. So much for her taking the girls to dinner.
Jesus, Aiden, what did you do this time?
I feel my coat slip around my shoulders and spin to face Sean.
“Ready to go?”
Stepping in closer, he holds out my scarf and wraps the wool around my neck before gently pulling my hair from underneath. The way he takes care of me is the biggest turn on.
“Y-Yeah,” I stutter.
He smirks.
Bastard.
“We’re just going up the street a couple of blocks,” I tell him.
He zips up my coat, his eyes never leaving mine, then laces our fingers together.
As we exit the building, stepping out onto the crowded sidewalk, the smell of roasted chestnuts fills the air.
It’s only a few days until Thanksgiving, yet Christmas music is already playing in the streets.
We pass by a woman ringing a bell for the Salvation Army.
Sean stops, takes a few bills out of his wallet, placing them into her tin bucket, then grabs my hand and begins walking again.
“How much further?” he asks.
I look both ways, then cross the street, dragging him along with me.
“It’s right here,” I say, gesturing at the tattoo studio with the red neon open sign flickering in the window.
Instead of following me inside, he stops in the middle of the bustling sidewalk, causing me to jerk back and bump into people.
I spin around to face him. “What are you doing, Sean? Let’s go inside.”
“What is this?”
“What does it look like? It’s a tattoo studio.”
“I know what it is, but why? I love you like you are,” he says, shaking his head. “If you’re doing this because of me . . . because you think—”
“It’s just a consultation, but I’m doing this for me.” I pat my chest. “I want to look in the mirror and see the beauty of what I’ve overcome.”
“Okay.” He hooks a finger into my belt loop, pulling me to him, then lifts my chin. “If you were considering it for any other reason, we were gonna turn around and go straight home.”
Home.
Funny how in the weeks of staying with him, his place turned into my home too. I didn’t mean to move in; it just kinda happened.
Sean opens the door for me, and the bell above the glass door chimes.
“Be with you in just a minute,” someone calls out from behind a black curtain.
I glance around the room. Piercing jewelry is displayed in a glass case on the right, and beside it are notebooks filled with pictures of the artist’s work. I stride over to the counter and flip through them while we wait.
The curtain slides open, and a woman steps out, a beautiful, fresh tattoo adorning her left thigh.
I love the work. My eyes flit over to Sean, gauging his reaction to the artist’s work, but the look on his face doesn’t appear to be a pleasant one.
He watches the tattoo artist intently while he cleans up in the back.
Shaking his head, Sean tosses a couple of bills onto the counter.
“Thank you for your time,” Sean says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the shop.
I stumble out onto the sidewalk and throw my hands up. “What the hell was that?”
“He didn’t clean the chair.” He shrugs, setting off towards the parking lot back at the facility with me trailing behind him.
Didn’t clean the chair? What in the world? I think he’s just looking for excuses.
“Is this because he's a man and you don’t want him touching what’s yours?”
“No.” He spins to face me. “I have a tattoo artist in Vegas. I trust him, and I know he’s clean. I’ll give him a call and book the appointment for when we’re there. It has nothing to do with that artist being a guy.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I say, strolling through the parking area.
“I mean it. If he skips something as simple as the chair, then he’s probably skipping other things, plus he tossed the needle in the trash instead of a sharps container.”
Leave it to Sean to find every single thing wrong with a place.
“Fine,” I say, because what’s the use of arguing with him?
We reach my bike, and he grabs my helmet hanging on my handlebars, then places it on my head, and fastens the chin strap. “Was that sass?”
“Maybe it was. What are you going to do about it?” I sass again, loving this game we play.
Fisting the front of my helmet, he hauls me closer. “I’m going to torture the fuck out of you until you’re screaming for me to fuck you, and I don’t know who’s going to enjoy it more . . . me or you.” He slams my visor closed.
The smug grin on his face when he turns to walk away causes excitement to buzz beneath my skin. His truck pulls out of the parking lot, and it becomes a race to see who gets home first. He takes the left turn right before the light turns red, leaving me in his dust.
Son of a bitch. He’s gonna beat me.
Every stoplight feels longer than it should, and every mile drags on forever. When I finally walk through the front door, he’s already standing in the foyer, shirtless and waiting for me, his long black hair falling around his face.
“Encuérate.”
(Strip)
His tanned, ripped muscles flex with each movement as he drags his belt out of the loops, and my jaw goes slack.
He chuckles. “Something wrong?”
Shaking my head, I finally find my voice and choke out, “I don't understand what you just said.”