3. Chapter 3
The dance studio pulsed with energy. Kinsley had disappeared into the back with Alek over an hour ago.
I finished a one-on-one intensive with a new student.
He had real potential, and pouring into the next generation fed the parts of me that still desired a connection to the dance world.
I bid the boy and his mother farewell and headed to my office to shower.
I couldn’t wait to see what Isabella had come up with. Her talent was astounding and, since she was now doing actual tattoos, a part of me relished the idea that I would be the first in the squad to get a tat from her.
She may have drawn and had input on all the ones the guys had, but Alek had done them. Of course, with the exception of his own. Aiden had done his. I finished up and changed. As I was coming out, Kinsley and Alek were in the lobby.
Her head was resting against his stomach. Whenever she stood next to one of them, the different size proportions stood out in the most hilarious way. It never hit me when we danced together, our own size differences. Her eyes were closed as he stroked her back.
Sensing me, she opened them. Poor girl looked like she was still in subspace. I had been training under Sebastian for several months, so I could easily spot it. My life shifted in a new direction the night we purchased Victoria and Leena at that auction.
It didn’t shift back.
I had to ask myself the hard questions, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. It helped to have six other men I could confide in and have genuine conversations about sex with. Alek notched his head in my direction, and a sheepish grin spread across his face.
“You ready?” he asked.
“I am. Just finishing up here and plan to head over. You should probably escort her over,” I said, grinning as Kinsley yawned. “Or better yet, take her home.”
“No way. I need to see this tattoo and I want to be there for you in case you need someone to hold your hand. Izzy can’t if she’s tattooing you,” Kinsley offered, her eyes shutting once more.
“I’m sure he doesn’t need you to hold his hand, kitten. He isn’t getting it today, anyway. He’s going over designs and aspects of what he’d like to see. And he’s right, home might be the best thing for you. A nap before Nik gets his turn.”
The sheepish look now made sense. He was breaking the rules. Not that any of them honestly adhered to it except for where she slept each night. That was nonnegotiable. They demanded it.
“I’ll go home straight after. I promise. I’ll text Marcus to pick me up, since I don’t know if Izzy will be ready to go. I could always come back here and nap, too.”
She pulled away and went to walk toward the door. Her legs looked wobbly. Dancing and then fucking had clearly taken a major toll on her. I bit back laughter as Alek scooped her up. He turned his body toward me as he hit the door. He opened it with his back.
“Have fun,” he offered.
I let the other dance instructor know I’d be next door and took off.
Right as I stepped outside, my phone rang.
I fished it out of my pocket and groaned at the name on the display.
Hannah. She’d been on edge lately, and while I knew we were better off apart, there was a twinge of guilt in my gut.
Against my better judgment, I took a deep breath and answered.
“Hey. I’m about to go into a lesson,” I lied.
Try as I might to keep the irritation from my voice, I winced as my greeting came out harsher than I wanted.
“Can we talk? I really could use someone. Someone that knows me. This is so much harder than I thought it would be.”
Her words tumbled out in an emotional rush. I glanced at the tattoo studio door. My impatience grew.
“Hannah, we’ve gone over this. I can’t be that person for you anymore. We’re in different places.”
She hesitated, and I hoped she was going to go into angry mode. I much preferred her that way. It was always easier to push her away when she got like that. I wasn’t in luck today. She started sobbing.
“I know…it’s…I miss you. Us.”
My eyes closed as exasperation set in. The back-and-forth thing hadn’t worked, counseling was an abject failure, and with each step of the way, I only realized how incompatible we were. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t see it.
Even the counselor she’d found agreed that we were in vastly different places and that the bridge between who we were and what we wanted was too wide to connect anymore.
All our sessions were the same recycling of emotions.
They ended with her crying, like she was doing now, and me feeling like shit.
I refused to spend the rest of my life apologizing for wanting more. And that was the crux of the matter. With Hannah, it was never a compromise, and what I wanted didn’t factor into things. With her, I was reduced to nothing.
“Did I lose you?” she asked.
“A long time ago, actually. But neither of us realized it.”
“How can you say that? What if I told you I’m willing to try harder?”
“We agreed. It’s for the best if we moved on. I’ll call you later, okay?”
As cold as it was, I ended the call. My mind shifted away from her, and the pain in her voice. The emotions she had were often volatile. Like a storm I’d weathered many times before and didn’t want to experience again. Five years was long enough. I let out a long breath and refocused.
As I pushed the door open, my soul felt lighter. I wasn’t about to let Hannah ruin the mood I was in. The bell chimed. Isabella’s crew greeted me. The smell of rubbing alcohol filled the air. The receptionist, who was new, eyed me up and down. Her lips curved in appreciation.
“Isabella in?”
“Oh, you must be Pasha,” she stated.
I flashed her a smile. “I am. And who might you be?”
“Anyone you want me to be,” she said sensually, leaning forward. With the move, her cleavage showed beautifully.
“Is that so?” I drawled, unable to help the smile that spread across my face.
“Quit flirting with Stephanie, asshole.”
I lifted my eyes to the person I’d come to see. A slow grin erupted across my face at the look of annoyance on hers.
“You’re so bossy. I was over here trying to spread a little happiness, charm this lovely lady.”
Isabella arched a brow, unimpressed. Her makeup was expertly applied, making her eyes pop. She was wearing her famous cherry-tasting red lipstick, and I briefly remembered how they’d felt on mine that night long ago. I groaned, remembering the taste of her and the way she’d looked at me after.
“Keep that charm in check, or I’ll kick you out and give the next customer your tattoo design. Free of charge.”
I raised my hands in surrender, flashing her my most innocent grin. “As you wish, princess.”
Theo’s laughter reached her ears, making her face flame to match the lips.
“I swear it’s a good thing you are family. Kinsley’s waiting by my station. What the hell did Alek do to her this time?”
With a final wink at the receptionist, I leaned down to murmur in Isabella’s ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
She bristled. Getting under her skin was my favorite pastime. I walked back to Isabella’s station, and Kinsley was drinking a smoothie. She patted the seat, calling me over. As I settled into the chair, she talked a mile a minute.
“Wait until you see it. It’s amazing, stunning and I know you said you didn’t want me to hold your hand and all, but I’m here just in case. We don’t have to tell anyone. It can be our secret. Well…Izzy will see it, but she’s good at keeping them.”
“We don’t keep secrets in this family,” I reminded her. “And you do know she’d never let me live it down.”
I notched my head in Isabella’s direction. My phone rang once more. Hannah again. I silenced it.
“Why is she calling?”
“Doesn’t matter, mouse,” I said, raking my hands through my hair.
Isabella glided over, her feet floating across the floor. She was actually quite graceful, even in her Doc Martens. She had a quiet confidence, one of the things I admired about her. It occurred to me I’d never seen her dance, and I had a strong urge to.
She was dressed in her normal attire. Black jeans with rips in the knees and a grunge rock T-shirt. Normally she was five feet five, but the heels on her boots gave her an extra inch today. Her long, straight black hair was braided and lay down her back in a thick plait.
She almost always wore it up, which showed her pretty features and accentuated her unique blue eyes. The damned things sparkled like glass and were captivating as hell. As she reached us, her gaze landed on Kinsley, and she smiled.
It transformed her face, as always. She had a soft side, but it was reserved for those she loved. In her hand was her sketchpad, and when she turned toward me, the excitement I had earlier rushed back.
Without a measure of nervousness, she opened the book, and I couldn’t help but be impressed by the intricate details. Smack dab in the middle was a lion, mid-roar. He exuded a sense of power and majesty. It was undeniable. Nestled within its open jaws was a badass skull.
“It’s massive,” I said, dragging my fingers over the lines. “I fucking love it.”
Isabella’s face lit up, and a hint of pride flowed from her.
“I was thinking your chest would be fitting. Considering that’s where I’ve put the other one.”
I pulled my T-shirt off and flung it to Kinsley. “Show me where it will fall.”
Her eyes widened—they always did—and desire flickered there before she smothered it. I chalked it up to not seeing many men’s chests before, but considering she knew mine fairly well, it still surprised me every time.
“I was thinking right here,” she said.
Thankfully, Kinsley was still in another world and on her phone, so she didn’t notice the exchange taking place. And one was definitely taking place, as confusing as it was.
Isabella was like fire to me, something I knew better than to play with but was drawn to, nonetheless. She cleared her throat and reached out a hand. Her fingertips skimmed over my sternum, cool and soft.
“The crown will go here at the top and the lion itself will sit,” she paused as she traced the center of my chest, “perfectly in the center.”
Our eyes locked for a brief second before hers drifted down to her hands. Her head tilted to the side. “And the lion’s chin will rest below the bottom of your sternum.”
She hummed the last word. The sound was feather-light, sensual. It sent goosebumps cascading down my arms.
“And the details on the sides?” I questioned, glancing at the sketch once more.
She traced the center of my chest again, then curved outward, mapping the mane along my skin toward my ribs. “The swirls will flow out of the mane. They represent your journey with us. They’ll wrap around here.”
Her fingers once more danced across my skin, wrapping around my nipples toward my sides. Fuck. I couldn’t fight the visceral response as they tightened under her caress. I bit back a groan.
Did she have any idea what she was doing to me?
If the look on her face were any indication. She didn’t. She looked lost in thought, as she often did when she entered the realm of her work.
Get her back on track.
Yeah. That was what I needed to do. “And the crown? What does that represent?” I asked.
“Strength and leadership.” She licked her lips, and I noticed her breathing hitched.
Our eyes met, and we both froze, lingering in the moment. Not wanting to break it, I whispered, “And the title. You always title your work. I don’t see one.”
“Lev,” she breathed. “It’s fitting with you being the Russian when you work. You remind me of a lion.”
Her voice softened on the last word. In my head, I grabbed her face between my hands, hauled her tight little body across mine and devoured her like I had the night we killed Cameron Evans.
She looked up, her fingers tracing light circles around my nipples.
Our eyes met, and the air crackled between us with unspoken tension.
“You can’t go back there,” the receptionist exclaimed, breaking the moment, but not before Hannah rounded the corner and saw Isabella touching me.
“I thought you were teaching a class. You lied to me.” The accusation was laced with the earlier hurt she’d expressed on the phone.
What the hell?
“We can talk more about the tattoo later. At home,” Isabella said, ignoring Hannah entirely.
“You should probably put this on.” Kinsley held my shirt out.
With deep resentment and anger, Hannah turned on her. “Of course you’d be here. I swear everywhere he is, you are. Don’t you get enough dick at home with three men?”
Hannah’s words drained the color from Kinsley’s face, and tears filled her eyes. She withdrew inside and gulped. It never stopped confusing me. Mouse was fearless by nature. Reckless, even.
Yet whenever Hannah raised her voice or stepped into her space, it all vanished. She would back down so quickly that it left me questioning everything I thought I knew about her. But not Isabella. Hannah had just activated Mama Bear mode.
The dark-haired beauty moved before I could. One second she was beside me, the next she had Hannah fisted by her shirt, pencil pressed just beneath her jaw.
“Get the hell out of my studio. If you ever speak to her that way again, it will be the last thing you do. Don’t try me.”
I pulled Kinsley to the opposite side of the tattoo chair and pushed between Hannah and Isabella. This wasn’t the first time Isabella had stepped in, and the anger radiating from her gave me pause.
“Princess, let me handle this.” I eased the pencil from her grip before she did something she couldn’t undo and notched my head toward Kinsley. “Take her to your office and wait for Marcus.”
My eye twitched as I stared down at Hannah. Anger, pain, and bitterness stared back. I sighed.
Bloody fucking hell.