Page 18 of Keep Me

“You okay?” I ask her, feeling sick at the fact that I’m hurting her. I’ve made grown men cry before in this chair and never cared. But fuck, if seeing her in pain doesn’t do something else to me.

“Yes, keep going.” She smiles, her eyes studying my face. I don’t particularly love chatting with clients, but if it’ll keep her mind off the pain, so be it.

“Where are you from?” I ask, trying to keep her attention averted.

“Paris.”

Her one-word response is unlike her, but I let it go and ask her another question. “What made you want to come to America for school?”

Her nails dig into my forearm in response, but I don’t flinch.

“I wanted to get away from my parents because they… they expect a lot from me. I needed to grow on my own terms. Experience life on my own for once.” Her voice hitches at the end when the needle hits a tender spot.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Don’t be. Tell me something about you.” Her nails release their vice grip on my forearm as I take a second to wipe away the extra ink.

“I play baseball.”

She laughs, her laughter sounding as sweet as she smells. Everything about this girl is, but something tells me that may not entirely be true.

“Something I don’t know already.”

I pick the gun back up and get to work while I think over what to say. I don’t like to share things about myself, but like I’ve said, whatever Camille asks, I’ll give to her.

“My mom and I have weekly movie nights on Tuesdays.” My lips twitch, a smile threatening to take over my face. What can I say, I love my mother and whenever I think about her, it puts a smile on my face.

“It’s so nice that you and your mom are close. What do you guys like to watch?” she inquires, her fingers gently caressing my forearm, her nails dusting across my skin. It sends a shiver up my spine, making me lift my hand away from her body.

What the hell is that shit about?

I shake my head and get back to work. “Whenever my mom picks, it’s a Disney film. She’s a sucker for them. Whereas when I get to pick, it’s a thriller.”

“Your mom sounds like a dreamer,” she points out.

“Yeah, I guess she is,” I said, continuing to draw the design on her ribs.

I never thought of it that way until now, but my mom never gave up on her dreams. She got pregnant with me during her last year of school and still managed to finish with honors.

“Do you have any siblings?” she asks next.

“What is this? An interview?” I nearly chuckle, but it comes out more like a grunt.

“We’re becoming friends, remember? A friend should know these things.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “I don’t. But when my mom gets married this summer, I’ll have two step siblings, Nate and Aurora.”

“Oh, right, that’s exciting.” She smiles widely, but it quickly fades as I press the needle into her skin. She whimpers and squeezes my arm once more.

“Almost done,” I say, trying to comfort her.

“Are you excited for the trip next weekend?” she asks, switching topics.

“To play baseball for the first time since last year? Yeah, I am.” My tone brightens at the thought of being able to play again so soon.

She gives me a small smile. “I’m excited too. It’ll be busy for me, but fun nonetheless.” She proceeds to tell me about the various social media activities she has planned for the team to do, and I grunt at each of them.

Noah and Cuddy will eat that shit up, but I’d rather be on the field doing what I do best instead of fucking around for the camera like they will take pleasure in doing.

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