“Hell yeah. What do you have in mind?”
Sutton nods, and she pulls out her phone. The two of them start discussing placement and coloring, but I check out of the conversation when I see Dare. His head is down as he ambles in from the back. A pencil in his mouth, sketchbook in hand. A piece of dark hair hangs in front of one eye, and he jerks his head to flip it out of the way. Once he notices me, he falters for half a second.
“Hi,” I say, walking toward him.
“Hey, Sally,” he says with a smirk. He sits at his stool, and I follow, plopping down on his tattoo chair thingy.
“What is this thing called, anyway?” I ask, swinging my legs onto the chair, then leaning back into a reclining position. “I should probably know these things. I’m like the worst tattoo shop girl ever.”
Dare chuckles. “A…tattoo chair?” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Client chair, if you’re fancy.”
“Pft. Fancy is my middle name.”
Dare squints one eye, assessing. “Something is different.”
“What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I mean…I’m not not drunk,” I admit, earning another laugh from him. I love the sound. “I like it when you’re happy.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my cheeks burn hot. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not much embarrasses me, but revealing too much about how I feel is the exception.
“I like it when you’re unfiltered,” he counters.
“I’m always unfiltered.”
“I like it when you’re forthcoming then. How’s that?”
The only one I’ve been lying to is myself about how I feel for him. I don’t say that, though.
Matty and Sutton come from the direction of the drawing room, and she sits in his chair, next to Dare’s station. I didn’t even notice that they had gone back there. Matty coats the inside of Sutton’s arm with a mixture of soap and water before applying the stencil to her skin.
“Check it out,” he says, handing her a handheld mirror.
“Perfect,” she beams. “Let’s do this.”
“I want a tattoo,” I declare suddenly.
“As much as I’d love that—and I would fucking love it a lot—no can do.”
“I’ll do it!” Cordell calls from somewhere in the back. I whip my head in his direction, but I still don’t see him. I didn’t even know he was here.
“The fuck you will!” Dare yells over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me. “You’re drunk. I can’t tattoo you tonight.”
“But Sutton’s drunk, too.” Resorting to tattling to get my way. It’s a new low for me.
“Am not! I had one drink! You had like five. Proceed,” she says to Matty with a wave of her hand. Come to think of it, besides the lemon drop, she did nurse the same drink the whole time.
“Come on, Dare Bear.” I stick out my bottom lip, and he lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused. I need to up my game. “I think I want it riiiiight here,” I say, folding the band of my leggings down dangerously low. Dare’s eyes narrow, and I bite my bottom lip at the look in them. He groans before slipping a finger underneath, slowly pulling them back into place. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and he gives me a knowing look. “You’re always so cold.”
Something dark passes over Dare’s features as his eyes lock onto mine, but he shakes it away. “If you’re serious about it and you still want one tomorrow, we’ll talk. Besides the fact that you could change your mind when your buzz wears off, you’ll probably bleed more and delay your healing process. I’m not doing th
at to you.” The hand that adjusted my pants has curved around my hip, and even that slight touch has my insides feeling floaty, like a balloon full of helium.
“Fine.”
“Do you know what you want?”
I haven’t thought that far ahead. Instead of admitting that, I say, “I want you to choose.”