I squinted at him but didn’t respond.
“Interesting.” He mused, sitting upright. “I’m going to let you reflect on that for a while.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
He nodded his head easily. “I do know that. I think you still love me either way, though.”
“Debatable.” I threw back, but he just laughed and left my suite, leaving the door closed behind him as he went.
I hated that he zeroed in on the problem at hand.
I was attracted to the biker.
And that was befuddling because, besides some mild appreciation for the male body before, I had never experienced active attraction towards a man before.
Leave it to me to suddenly find myself attracted to a man for the first time with one who had a disposition as prickly as mine.
Good thing I’d probably never see him ever again.
Chapter 3 – Lex
“Your four o’clock is here.” Paisley, the receptionist for the shop, popped her head in my room, surprising me and dragging me out of the headspace I’d been in while sketching the giant backpiece I had scheduled to tattoo tomorrow morning.
Scowling at her, “I don’t have a four o’clock. I have a five, but there’s no way she’s early.”
“Not a tattoo.” Paisley walked in and leaned against my wall. “The journalist for the Nashville paper.”
“Ugh.” I groaned, tipping my head back in impatience. “I forgot all about that.”
“Dallin didn’t.” She tapped her fingers on her arm. “He told me to make sure you were on your best behavior. Seems like he knows her and she’s doing him a favor by letting the story be about you, not him.”
“Hmm.” I laid my tablet down and stretched my sore neck. “How kind of him to pass off his responsibility onto my shoulders and then demand I behave.”
Paisley smirked and rolled her eyes. “It’s like he knows you or something.” She peeked out the door to the reception area and then lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “And I’m guessing he wants to protect her innocent little soul from your wild side as much as possible.”
“Innocent?” I cringed. “I taint innocence for the fun of it. Why would he sign me up for the assignment, and not Parker, if there was so much at risk?”
She tittered and backed out of my room, “I don’t know, but I’m going to enjoy the show.”
“Give me a minute to put my cloak of goodliness on.” I joked and then cleaned up my design space.
I mentally counted to ten and then ten again before looking in the mirror on the wall, taking in my appearance.
My wavy black hair was long and the bleached money pieces in the front highlighted the black ink on my face and neck. The piercings in my cheeks that accentuated the deep dimples there added a bit of femininity to the rest of my edginess. My black crop top band tee and cut-off jean shorts with silver chain embellishments set the look paired with the black combat boots that the biker commented on.
I loved every bit of it. I’d spent years figuring out my style and identity, and I didn’t regret a single piece of it. But I didn’t have any illusions about what vibe I gave off either. Nor could I figure out why Dallin would want me to be the ‘face’ of the shop for his big article.
“Well, here goes nothing.” I mused and walked out after Paisley to the reception area.
I clocked the journalist immediately. She stuck out so much that it was almost painful to see her in the edgy tattoo shop. She was probably in her late twenties, but she had one of those faces that would always leave her looking young and fresh.
Untouched.
She had light strawberry blonde hair, tied back in a tight knot with a few wisps blowing in the fan's breeze. She wore a business-savvy white dress that collared at her neck with sleeves down to her elbows. It just touched the tops of her knees as she stood by the front door and her sensible black flats screamed middle-aged mom.
But what stood out the most to me was every inch of her blank, untouched skin visible around her modest dress.
A virgin.
Tattoo virgin at least. I’d bet money that she didn’t have a speck of ink on her soft white skin and something about that—called to me. God, I was the worst.
“Ah, here she is.” Paisley nodded to me, catching the journalist’s attention. “Lex, this is Hannah Kate. Hannah, this is Lex.”
“Hi!” Hannah walked toward me with her hand extended and a bright cheery smile on her face. “It’s so nice to meet you! I feel like I’ve spent the last week stalking you and your work so extensively that I know you inside and out by now.” She laughed at her joke while I raised my brow in surprise. “Sorry.” She grimaced. “I’m a blabber.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded, shaking her hand and staring straight at her as she shrunk a bit. We were probably the same height, but with my heeled boots on, I towered over her slight frame. Everything about her was small. Dainty, even. “Come on back and we can get started.”
She fell in step behind me as we went deeper into the shop, passing rooms where tattoos were in progress. As we neared Parker’s room, she glanced inside and her step faltered when she saw the massive man in Parker’s chair, getting his stomach tattooed. “Ouch.” She murmured to herself, before running to catch back up with me.
I motioned for her to walk in ahead of me and then slid the door closed behind her, expecting and then catching the feminine floral scent as she brushed past me.
Predictable.
Yet not in a bad way.
“Thanks so much for making the time for me in Dallin’s absence,” Hannah said, looking around my private room. “This is so stinking cool.” She had an awe-struck look on her face as she took it all in, and I tried to imagine seeing my space through her eyes. The room had a cool vibe with matte black walls and fancy gold accents on the chairs, lighting, and décor. The floor glowed with pink up-lighting, and an ivy plant with light pink petaled flowers completely covered one wall. I only kept the plant alive because it pissed Trey off the most. He hated plants in any form and took personal offense to the small ivy plant when it was in a lattice pot on the floor. So of course I let that bitch free to grow up the wall. I even went as far as having Parker help me hang a support lattice for her to twist around, simply because I could. And it made one hell of a photo backdrop for the before and after photos of my clients. And let’s be honest, social media presence was everything. “I feel so unworthy of being in here.” She contemplated and then shook her head with a goofy grin on her face. “But I’m totally loving it.”
“I’m glad.” I motioned for her to sit in the comfy black chair in the corner that I sketched in and then took my office chair and turned it toward her. “You’ll have to forgive me; Dallin was pretty vague on the details of this piece and what you needed from me, exactly.”
