Page 55 of Flash

I elbow him, but that only makes him laugh harder. “I told you I can’t be intimidating. My face just doesn’t do that. I’m like a precious little china doll.”

“Ooh, okay, play up that angle then. Try a creepy-ass blank stare,” Hero suggests.

I give it a shot, letting my expression go slack and vacant.

“Yeah, that’s unsettling,” Piston says immediately.

“Definitely go with that. I’d be shitting my pants if someone stood there staring at me like that,” Tex says.

I break the stare and chuckle. A warm feeling fills up my chest as we get close to the protesters. Arrow was right, his friends are pretty cool. Maybe I’ll convince Rowan to come out sometime. He would like these guys.

I look back at Arrow again to find him watching me with an expression that makes my heart skip a beat. I’m sure he’s just happy that I’m getting along with everyone, but it feels like it could be more than that. Maybe I just want it to be more than that. A too-big feeling swells in my chest and heat rises into my cheeks. I stumble over my own feet, but Jag keeps me upright. I murmur a thanks and then politely shrug off his arm to slip under Arrow’s instead.

“See, they’re not so bad, right?” he says quietly as his friends all get a few steps ahead of us.

“They’re great.” I pop up onto my toes to kiss his cheek. Defiant pleasure rushes through me at the hisses and boos that go through the crowd of protesters. I forgot they were there for a second, but pissing them off is definitely a bonus.

Arrow smiles and wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a deeper kiss full of sloppy tongue just to prove a point. I laugh against his lips and clutch his jacket, that feeling in my chest swelling bigger and bigger until I feel like I might burst.

I think I’m falling in love with Arrow, and for the first time in my life, I think he might feel the same way.

Chapter 19

LEWIS

I balance a heavy box on my hip and knock on the back door to Ink Slingers. The only motorcycle still in the alley is Arrow’s, so I don’t have to wonder if the heavy clomp of approaching footsteps are his. The door swings open with a groan and my heart flutters at the huge grin on his face.

“Hey, neighbor.” He drags his gaze over me with a lascivious glint in his eyes. “Not here to tell me to turn down my music, I hope.”

“Not this time.” I hold up the box. “This got delivered to my shop by mistake.”

Arrow takes it and then shoulders the door open so I can step inside. I’ve spent some more time with his friends since the day trip to Iowa a few weeks ago, and as much as I hate to admit it, when he’s not torturing you, Jag is actually pretty fucking funny. They all are, if I’m being honest, but even though the feud is officially dead and buried, I haven’t been by to get a proper tour of Ink Slingers.

The door slams closed behind us, and Arrow carries the box over to set it on a small desk in the corner of the storage room. He pulls open the top drawer and rummages around until he finds a box cutter, then slices through the tape to open it up. I’m assuming it’s just tattoo supplies, whatever those would be, but I crane my neck to see inside anyway out of curiosity.

He frowns, and I bark out a surprised laugh as soon as he lifts the flaps.

“Why the hell did you order rainbow-colored dicks for your tattoo shop?” I reach into the box and pick one up. It’s small, maybe two inches tall, with a cute little pair of balls attached. I squeeze it and it squishes in a hilariously satisfying way.

“Jag,” he mutters.

“Yeah, that checks out.” I nod.

“He said he ordered dicks, but those rubber duckies came instead. The company must have realized their mistake and shipped the right order.” He picks up a handful and chuckles. “What the hell are we supposed to do with a hundred little rainbow dicks?” He drops them back into the box and his eyes glint with mischief. “Actually, you know what? I think Jag deserves a taste of his own medicine.”

I gasp and smile. “Are you suggesting we join forces to prank him?” I whisper conspiratorially.

“All in good fun, of course,” Arrow says solemnly.

“Of course,” I agree, dragging him in for a kiss that quickly turns playful, with Arrow groping my ass and both of us laughing against each other’s lips.

“Help me find a place to stash the box, and we can hide them in his supply cart one at a time until he loses his mind.”

I cackle, and then we work together to move some inventory around so we can hide the box on the back of a shelf. Once we’re done and a single dick has been placed in the top drawer of Jag’s supply cart, I saunter over to the railing that surrounds the elevated portion of the shop and look out at the place.

“It’s not as fancy as some places, but we busted our asses to make it what it is,” Arrow says, sidling up next to me and leaning his elbows on the railing. “I hardly ever just look around Ink Slingers anymore or take the time to stop and think about how far we’ve come. This was nothing but a rental space in a run-down little strip mall a decade ago, and now we have customers who come from all over the Midwest to book with us.”

“That’s so fucking badass.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “I looked up your Instagram and saw photos of your work, it’s incredible.”

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