Page 26 of Falling in Love with Two

“You ask me that every time, and every time I say no.”

“I’ll keep asking,” I tell him. “Just in case you change your mind.”

I get started on his tattoo, and both of us remain silent for who knows how long. The only sounds around us are the buzzing of the ink gun and the classic rock station playing through the speakers on the ceiling.

Rich looks over his shoulder at me. “You alright, Leah?”

My eyes glance up to meet his for a split second before back to the task at hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“AC/DC just played on the radio, and you didn’t sing along.”

“So?”

“So, you always sing along—or at least mouth the words.”

“The fact that you know that is a little creepy,” I say.

“I’m just observant. Plus, you can’t sing very well, so I notice.”

“Hey!” I cry, pretending to be offended. It’s all an act, though. I’m well aware that I can’t carry a tune to save my life. That’s not going to stop me from trying, though.

Getting back to Rich, I say, “I’m really okay. Just had a late night. That’s all.”

“Bit of a hangover?”

I chuckle. “Something like that.”

“You’re not going to fuck up my tattoo are you?”

“No, Rich. This isn’t my first hangover, and I’m sure it won’t be my last. You’re safe.”

I do my best to put on my best happy face and act as normal as I can. I don’t want to give Rich any reason to find another artist.

Time to do what I do best.

Time to fake it until I make it.

“Hey, bitch,” Amy playfully greets as she walks into my room at the shop.

“Hey, you. Didn’t know if I’d see you in here today or not.”

“Needed to get some paperwork done and invoices paid. All the boring parts of running a business.” She walks in and takes a seat. “So, what ended up happening to you last night? Did you take the pup home?”

“Well, technically, he took me, but yes.”

“And?” She questions. “How was it?”

“Pretty great,” I answer, remembering every one of my orgasms.

As much as I usually like dishing with Amy after a wild night, today, I’m just not in the mood.

But Amy looks like she’s about to burst at the seams, so I turn it back on her. “What about you? How was the young gun?”

“Girl,” she begins before giving me a detailed account of their energetic sex.

Amy has always liked guys a few years younger than her. She enjoys when they are less experienced than her. She likes being a teacher or sorts. Meanwhile, I’m the exact opposite. I like a guy who already knows what he’s doing. I want him to know how to make me come seven ways to Sunday.

Like Dylan did.

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