I admire the peony tattoo I’m sketching for her. “No. I just sketched it for someone who I think it would be beautiful on.”
Her ass falls to my bed and her hands run down the paper. “I love it.”
“Really?” I seek out the confirmation that I really do know her as well as I think I do.
“Yeah. I never knew if I’d have the guts for a tattoo. Seeing all the girls who go into Ink Envy and pick a generic tattoo that could be on anyone else’s body never appealed to me. This is unique. When you do something like this, do you ever resell the image?” She stares at the picture in her hand.
“No. Not if the client asked me to draw it.”
“So you could draw something for me that’s just mine and no one else would have it?”
My mind screams tell her. Tell her you drew the peony for her. Let her eyes soften and her lips part. Open yourself up and allow her to climb in. Rian is safe, she’d never destroy the friendship you’ve built.
Instead I say, “Definitely. As soon as I’m out of the cast, I can sketch something. Any ideas?”
Coward, my conscience screams.
She glances at the sketchbook. “Just something beautiful like this.”
“And you’ll really let me tattoo you?”
She nods and stands, abandoning the sketchbook on the bed and picking up the scissors and the pen. She marks a spot on the sleeve, and I suffer through her closeness while she helps me take off my sweatshirt. She cuts off the sleeve and puts the hoodie back on me.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Zipped or unzipped?” Her fingers hold the edge of the zipper dangerously close to my dick that’s at half-chub from the scent of her soap and her being so near.
I’m screwed. Why now, after all these years, is she like a drug and I’m an addict? “Zipped.”
After she’s done, we go out to the living room, her heading to the kitchen table and me to the couch.
“How’s that problem going?” I ask, clicking on the news.
“It’s okay. I think I might have part of it right, but this might be above my intelligence level. No matter what my parents believe.”
I slide on the cushion so I’m turned in her direction, resting my broken arm on the back of the couch. “You’re the smartest woman I know.” And that’s the truth.
She rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Does my opinion mean nothing?”
She stands from the chair and refills her coffee cup. She pulls another cup, fills it, and comes over to me. “You get a coffee for the compliment.”
I sip the black coffee. “Is this how we’ll work it?”
She laughs. “Sure.”
“In all seriousness, you know you don’t have to stay home. I’ll manage.”
She picks up her coffee and joins me on the couch. “I get that you’re not used to having people to count on, but you have us. We all want the best for you.”
“Thanks, but—”
“No, Dylan. I can do the same work here as I can at the office. After a few weeks when you’re used to the cast, I’ll go back, but you’ll have to suck it up for now. This is the way it is.” She tucks her legs under her body and sips her coffee.
My chest gets a warm funny feeling in it. “Listen, about last night…”
I want to say what I should have told her a long time ago. It’s time she knows how I feel about her and why I’ve ignored the telltale signs that maybe she likes me more than a friend.
She glances away from the television to me. “What’s up?”
I open my mouth to tell her, but the buzzer from downstairs goes off.
She places her coffee on the table, standing to answer. “I have no idea who that would be.” She presses the intercom button near the door of the apartment. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Frankie.”
“Come on up.” Rian presses the button to allow her in then opens our apartment door a crack. “I’m going to bake some cookies or something. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of visitors today.”
Just like that, I lose the nerve to say lock the door, keep Frankie out, and let me be straight with you.
Chapter Sixteen
Dylan
Jolie’s sings as she and Frankie come through the door. Rian’s giddy to see the three-year-old and already cleared the table of her work. I’m fairly sure she can’t bake cookies when she’s at the office, but I’m not saying anything. I fear I’ll need Rian’s help, so her being around is probably a good thing.
“Uncle Dylan!” Jolie runs toward me but stops. She points at my arm. “Hurt?”
Frankie follows right behind, closing the door and saying hello to Rian with a hug. She’s thinner than she was a week ago.
“Hey, boss,” Frankie says, sitting in the chair beside the couch, Jolie’s bag between her legs. Her jeans and T-shirt hang off her. She’s always been thin, but she’s gauntly now.
“Jolie, want to help me make monster cookies?” Rian asks.
Jolie’s eyes widen and her mouth forms a small O. She stares at me as though she’s wondering if she heard Rian ask that or if she’s hearing things.
“Whoa, did you ever come on a good day, huh?” I say.
She unzips her coat as she circles around the room to reach Rian.
Frankie sends Rian a look of appreciation before she leans back, her eyes wide on me. “Fell off your bike, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m out for six weeks.”
“I heard,” she says. “And what are we going to do about it?”
I sit up, sliding down the couch toward her so we can talk with a little more privacy, although Jolie’s excitement is so loud, I doubt they can hear us. Rian probably wouldn’t care or judge me anyway, but the alpha in me would prefer her not to know business is bad. “Are you back now?”
She nods. “He’s locked up.” Her worried eyes venture to Jolie.
I touch her knee. “How long?”
Frankie lives a complicated life and I try not to pry, allowing her to dish out information as she sees fit. I guess it’s because of how I grew up.
“Six months, I hope.”
At least she should be in good shape to take over Ink Envy for me. “I need to find a replacement for myself. I went to the city before this happened and nothin’. Lyle is progressing, but I don’t want to rush him.”
She laughs. “He told me you lost your cool the other day. I thought he was going to piss his pants when he called.”
Good to know my employees gossip about me.
“Yeah, not my finest moment. Neither was getting myself in this situation.” I lift the cast.
“And how exactly did you do that?”
I glance over my shoulder to where Rian is tying one of her aprons on Jolie.
“Rian, it’s okay if she gets dirty,” Frankie says.
“Yay!” Rian looks at Jolie and they toss the apron away. “How about I sit down and just read you the directions?” Rian sits and crosses her legs, but Jolie grabs her hand to pull her back up.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I say and try to move my left hand up to my hair. Fuck.