I choked on my coffee, and he laughed sadly. “Oh, Roxy. I know we don’t know each other well—”
“—or at all,” I interjected. “And I mean that literally. It’s been, what, twenty minutes since you walked in here?”
He laughed again, but it didn’t sound as sad. “I like you, Roxy.”
“And I think you’re really fucking strange,” I said, but there was mirth in my voice. Mirth I didn’t realize I had for corporate assholes.
“As I was saying, my life feels like a cliché. My girlfriend sleeping with my friend. Who does that? And thus, I had drinks. And got the brilliant idea for a tattoo. Which now you won’t even give me.”
“Having integrity as a tattoo artist makes me a real monster,” I said dryly. “Plus, doesn’t this break-up fuck up your plan with your hotel?”
“Yes,” he said mournfully. “Yes, it does. I will continue to be my father’s puppet and never get to rightfully own the place I love the most.”
I tilted my head, thinking. I wanted to tell Edward that the kind of parent that would withhold anything from their child for their ‘legacy’ sounded like a real fuck-wit. But then Edward shrugged out of his suit jacket and unsnapped his cuff links to shove the material past his forearms.
His sexy forearms.
“I was cheated on,” I said and immediately wished I could shove the words back inside my mouth. It’d happened a long time ago, and I barely even thought about it anymore, and I wasn’t in the habit of sharing intimate stories with strangers.
“Someone cheated on you?” he asked.
“Why do you seem so surprised?” I lifted my chin. “Bad stuff happens to good people all the time.”
“Because you…” There was a strained silence as his eyes drifted back to my legs again. He swallowed roughly. “You look like the kind of woman who could cut a man’s heart out. Willingly. Maybe feed it to him in a creative twist.”
I hid my smile behind my coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, it could be the giant knives you have tattooed on your arms.”
I twisted the limbs in question, grinning at the multiple knives inked there.
“Huh,” I shrugged. “Well, all I’m saying is, it happens. And it sucks. But the flipside is now you know she was a she-devil and can move the fuck on.”
Edward reached his mug forward, clinking it against mine. “I feel utterly pathetic, Roxy.”
I almost said something cutting then decided against it. “We’ve all been there. Believe me.” Our eyes met. “I know what rock bottom looks like.”
“Do you?”
“Absolutely,” I said firmly. “Only way out is up.” I’d said something similar to my little sister, Fiona, after I’d found out Jimmy had been cheating on me: I’m so fucking pathetic.
Edward slid closer, but I didn’t want a closer look at his refined, handsome face. The aquiline nose. Steel-blue eyes. I wanted to caress his forehead, shift the hair away.
“Maybe it’s because I’ve been drinking and am filled with despair, but nothing looks up right now. Except permanently changing my body.” Edward looked at my skin. “You did it. Why can’t I?”
I shook my head. “You’ll wake up tomorrow, still sad, but with a tattoo you didn’t want. And they don’t come off. The despair, though, will go away.” I gave him a tiny smile. “Promise.”
“Plus, I was going to get it on my arse,” he said, and I spit my coffee out. All over his nice white shirt.
“Oh my God,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” I tried to stand, but he reached out, grasping his fingers around my wrist. Holding me for the merest of seconds.
“Don’t,” he said.
And I sat back down.
“It’s fine, really. It’ll be my memory of this lovely night we’re having together.”
I bit my lip. Was this lovely night really happening?
“Were you really going to get one on your ass?” I asked.
Edward shrugged with a smirk. “You’ll never know, Roxy. And now you’ll never have the sincere pleasure of seeing it.”
“Didn’t want to see it anyway,” I said.
A silence stretched on, suddenly awkward. “I’m guessing I’m not the usual type that comes in here?” he said, finally.
“No, you’re not the usual type,” I said. “Or my type for that matter.”
And why in the fuck did I say that? But he was laughing fully now, and it was amazing.
“I understand, love,” he said. I didn’t want to admit that I was warming to the nickname. He reached forward, trapping a strand of my hair between his fingers. “I’ve never dated a woman with hair this color. Or shaved for that matter.”
“Sounds like you’ve dated some truly boring women,” I said.
“What’s this color called?” Less pain in his gaze now. Instead, interest. Captivation. And something warmer, like kindness.
“Rebel Yell,” I said, wholly aware of his finger, lightly stroking my hair. Nothing less, nothing more. And still, it was like a lightning bolt to my senses. I wanted to chalk it up to the fact that I hadn’t had sex in a few months, that I was stressed out with school and my failing business, and my body was only responding to the physical presence of a man.
Another stroke of his finger.
“Are you a rebel, Roxy?” he asked, and fuck that English lilt was getting to me.
“Prob-probably,” I stammered out, shifting backwards and out of his grasp. My senses immediately cleared. “Did you live together? You and this she-devil?” I asked.
He looked away. “No. In our social circle, it wouldn’t have been proper for us to live together before marriage, although she did have quite a few things at my place. And yet, even after two years we never even…” he paused, thinking. “Bloody hell, how many signs did I miss?” He gripped his coffee, knuckles whitening.
“So marriage never came up?”
“We attended weddings often together, and we’d make these very general comments about weddings but never anything about an actual marriage. If we were in love, truly, wouldn’t we have at least considered it?”
“It’s better though,” I rushed to say. “The person who cheated on me. We did live together. And it was a mess. It’s been—” I tilted my head, thinking. “Seven years? And he still has some of my shit. But I was in such a rush to get out of there, I just left it.” I paused. “Should have lit that house on fire, now that I’m thinking of it.”
“You do have the look of an arsonist about you,” Edward said with an appraising glance. “And is that for him?”
His hand reached forward, but didn’t touch, the skin of my wrist. The tattoo I’d gotten an hour after that piece-of-shit confirmed that he’d been fucking other women for the entirety of our one-year relationship.
“Never Again,” I said, tapping the block letters. “A reminder to myself. Never again would I let someone like that into my life. I got it…” I faltered, feeling myself start to blush and hating it.