Page 28 of Virgin Skin

Don’t break the trust we’ve built in the last twenty years of friendship.

Don’t fuck my son.

Is it me or is it really hot in here? I tug on the neck of my shirt in an attempt to get a little air on my overheated skin.

Jag holds his hands up in mock surrender, casting one more sideways glance at me before giving Hero a sage look and miming drawing an X over his heart. That seems to satisfy Hero, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to loosen my shoulders or slow down the pulse thundering in my ears.

I don’t know what he’s up to, but with Jag, you can always be sure that chaos and bullshit aren’t far behind. The question is, is he fucking with me or just trying to wind Hero up?

“So—” Jag turns back to Milo. “—Saturday?”

Milo doesn’t look my way, but I wish he would. I wish there was some way I could stop this trainwreck before it happens. But what fucking right do I have to stop it? If Milo wants to go out and grind on a bunch of strange, sweaty men, I can’t do anything about it.

“Yeah, Saturday,” Milo says.

The tang of blood alerts me to the fact that I’m violently gnawing at the inside of my cheek. I swallow it down and probe the tender spot with my tongue.

The door to the shop swings open and my appointment steps inside. I force myself to pull on a pleasant expression and wave the guy over so we can get started. He has a big piece planned and I’ve been itching to get started on it for weeks, but my thoughts are a million miles away as I make mindless small talk and prep his back so I can start the outline of the massive grim reaper. The smell of the lavender-scented disinfectant, the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine in my hand—none of it is enough to distract me from the images of some faceless dickhead in a dark club with their hands all over what’s mine.Milo.

Notmine, I remind myself.

But fuck, I think I might kill anyone who touches him.

And goddamn, I’m going to have to find a way to pay Jag back for this one. Asshole.

MILO

By the end of my first day at Ink Slingers, I’ve learned how to schedule appointments and consults and been given athoroughexplanation of cleaning procedures, including how to scrub the toilet. Brick took way too much pleasure in handing that particular task off to me.

Arrow and Tex have already taken off for the night, and while I finish tidying up the front counter, I sneak glances atPiston out of the corner of my eye. He’s been tense all day. His shoulders have been up to his ears, and he’s been grinding his teeth so hard, I swear I could hear it all the way across the shop. He seems to be dawdling now. His last appointment left over an hour ago, but he’s still painstakingly cleaning every inch of his work area like he’s planning to perform open heart surgery there later.

Hero’s the only one still working as the clock ticks past closing time and Jag saunters over to flip the sign. He looks up from the owl he’s tattooing on the guy’s bicep and shoots me an apologetic half-smile.

“Sorry, I should be finished soon. If you don’t feel like waiting though, you don’t necessarily need me to take you over to Jag’s place.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” I tie off the last garbage bag and pile it next to the door to the back room so I can grab it on my way out.

“You can just catch a ride with me.” Jag says, shrugging on his jacket. He shoves his hands into the pockets, then narrows his eyes into a deadly glare. “Dammit, this was funny for like aday.” He pulls out a small, rubbery neon green dick and whips it across the shop. It bounces off Piston’s back as he shakes with silent laughter.

“It’s still funny.” Piston’s mood seems lighter for just a second before he fixes his expression back into a sulky grimace. “And why don’t I drive Milo to your place? I wouldn’t want you to get lost along the way and take him to an orgy instead.”

The ice in his tone sends a shiver down my spine, except instead of a chill, the growl heats me all the way down to my toes. Isthatwhy he’s been pissy all day? Jag’s offer to take me out to a club this weekend?

Jag rolls his eyes. “Right, good point. I’m so glad you’re here to protect Milo’s precious virtue.”

Piston’s jaw ticks and his eyes flash with fear and annoyance. He darts a glance over at my dad, who doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the exchange. I glance between Jag and Piston again, taking in the silent standoff they seem to be in. Did Piston tell him about the night we met? Did he confide in him how much he still wants me?Please, please, please let it be that. Or is Jag just really damn perceptive? Because dude clearly sees right through us.

“If Piston wants to come along, I don’t mind,” I say breezily, as if I haven’t spent the whole day disappointed that my dad showing up this morning unannounced meant not only did I miss out on a kiss from Piston, but I also didn’t have the excuse to wrap myself around him on the ride to work.

Piston grunts and Jag shrugs. They each grab one of the garbage bags as we file out through the back, and I take the last one.

“Jacket?” Piston barks after I heave my bag into the dumpster.

“Oh shit, right. I left it inside.”

Jag throws his leg over his Harley and pulls his helmet on. “See you assholes there,” he calls in a muffled voice before his bike roars to life and he tears off down the alley.

I hurry back inside and grab my new leather jacket off the hook. The rumble of Jag’s engine is already fading into the distance by the time I step back outside, pulling my coat on and taking in Piston’s stiff posture as he leans against his motorcycle.

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