“Guys who want casual don’t usually buy clothes for you and your little brother, do they?” I ask, maybe a little too loudly.
“Nope,” Sutton says, popping the word from her lips. “Especially when they’re already getting that ass for free.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” I prop my chin in the palm of my hand. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I register that I essentially just admitted to sleeping with Dare. “I think I like him.”
“I think you’re an idiot if you’re just now realizing it.”
“You’re a real peach.” I laugh, taking another swig of beer. “Are you liquored up enough to get your tattoo yet?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sutton downs the rest of her drink and slams it on the bar top. I hop off my stool, and I suddenly feel a little drunker than I thought I was. I feel happy and buzzed and excited at the thought of seeing Dare.
“Be careful,” Jake calls after us as we’re walking toward the door.
Sutton slings an arm around my shoulder and yells back, “Never,” causing Jake to roll his eyes.
“Have you guys ever hooked up?”
“Ew, Jake?”
“Yes! He’s kind of protective of you.”
Sutton shakes her head. A strand of her sleek black hair gets stuck to my lips with the movement, and I spit it out, making us both laugh.
“No, you dumbass. He’s protective of you,” she says right as we enter Bad Intentions. My face screws up in confusion. Jake barely knows me. Why would he feel protective of me?
“What up, girl?” Matty greets me, pulling me in for a hug.
“I brought you a present,” I say, gesturing to Sutton. “Got time for a walk-in?”
“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 that 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.”
“What?” His forehead scrunches up, confusion written all over that pretty face.
“You heard me. I want something that represents me. Something beautiful. I trust you.” As I’m saying it, I realize how true it is. Dare is covered in beautiful. I trust his taste. He’s also insanely talented.
“You sure about that?” Dare asks, his voice a little raspier than before. I nod, looking deep into his eyes to convey my sincerity.
The door dings, effectively breaking the moment. Dare excuses himself to greet the customer, who’s a walk-in, and I opt to hang out with Cordell to pass the time.
“Wanna shoot some pool?” Cord asks, handing me a bottle of beer from the fridge.
“Depends on if you can handle being beat by a girl.”
“I’ll try my best,” Cord says, laughing. I might be exaggerating my skills, but I’m decent. I practically grew up in the shithole bars that Crystal dragged us to while she was on the hunt for men, money, drugs, or a combination of the three. Jess was too young to realize what was going on, so I made it fun for him by letting him pick the songs on the free jukebox and playing pool.
Jess actually got so good that he was hustling grown ass men by the age of seven. They were very drunk men who were shit at pool in the first place, but it was impressive nonetheless. Naturally, Crystal saw an opportunity and tried to use him to her advantage. That’s when I started insisting we stay home. We could scheme and hustle all day long, but I wasn’t going to let her benefit. I never understood why we had to go with her in the first place. I was eleven, but I’d been babysitting Jess since the ripe old age of seven. It didn’t occur to me until later that maybe we were unknowingly part of her scheming. People always felt bad for kids and animals. If only she’d had a dog…