Page 27 of Virgin Skin

“You’re both wrong.” Lewis chimes in over the buzz of tattoo needles and the low hum of grunge rock coming through the shop’s speakers. “Lurch and Thing are the ship I’ll die on.”

“Lurch?” Milo perks up looking curious. “Interesting. Is there a monster dick situation? Because dude isnothuman, right?”

Arrow lifts the needle off of Lewis’ skin, wrinkling his forehead and squinting at the three of them like they’re speaking a different language.

“Hold on, monster dick? Isthatwhat you’re always reading on your phone?”

Lewis cackles. “Sometimes. And, yes, Lurch has a monster dick.” He winks at Milo, who lets out a giddy squeal and pulls his own phone out of his pocket, presumably to start searching for the Lurch fic.

“‘Monster’ as in super massive? Or are we talking weird cocks?” Tex asks, and the woman in his chair stifles a laugh.

“Weird cocks,” his client, Lewis, and Milo all answer simultaneously.

“I don’t even want to know,” Hero mutters.

“I do.” Jag pulls out his phone too.

“Glad to see things are running so efficiently this morning,” I deadpan. “By the way, Lewis, Row was looking for you.”

“Ah, shit,” Lewis mutters.

Arrow stops what he’s doing again, setting his needle down and reaching for the disinfectant solution and some paper towels to clean Lewis up. When he’s done, Lewis kisses him, hops out of the chair, and hurries out through the back.

I’m aware that I have an appointment due in any minute, but, embarrassingly, I find myself rooted to the floor, my attention stuck on the way Milo’s dimple deepens as he turns his phone towards Jag to share whatever unhinged erotic fanfic he managed to find. He drags his fingers through his hair to push it back out of his face and mine itch to feel the silky slide of it again too. Fuck, I wish I’d gotten the chance to kiss him this morning.

Jag glances up as if he can feel my eyes on the two of them, and I look away quickly. I know he caught me though. I can tell by the smirk he’s wearing when I glance back.

“Hey, Milo, you know what would be fun?” Jag slides his phone back into his pocket, talking loudly enough that I don’t have to strain to hear him even as I turn to start prepping my station.

“Don’t ask open-ended questions like that unless you want me to start listing shit,” Milo says.

Jag laughs. “You’re new to the area and you need someone to show you the best pickup spots around here.”

My gut clenches and I whip around towards them.

“He doesn’t need that.” My voice is low and gruff, my jaw ticking with the urge to grind my teeth together.

“Yeah, what the fuck, dude?” Hero pauses the tattoo he’s working on to swivel his chair towards Jag. “That’s my kid. Why the hell are you trying to get him laid?”

Jag snorts and rolls his eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, babycakes, yourkidis a grown man. If I don’t show him the ropes, who will?” He looks in my direction with a taunting grin. “You wanna wingman him, Piston?”

I grunt in response, curling my fingers into fists at my sides. I can’t start swinging on Jag, no matter how blatantly he’s fucking with me. First, because it would raise too many questions aboutwhyI’m acting so protective of Milo. And, second, because the feisty maniac might be half my size, but he’s also a black belt in jiu jitsu and would hand me my ass on a silver platter.

Milo looks between us, then over at Hero, a little crease between his eyebrows.

“What do you say?” Jag bumps his shoulder against Milo’s. “I’ll take you out to the club Saturday night.”

“Are youtryingto piss me off?” Hero growls.

The crease in Milo’s forehead deepens and he sets his jaw stiffly.

“Excuse me, but as Jag pointed out, I’m not a little kid. I can go out if I want.”

Hero huffs through his nose. “Fine,” he grumbles, then points the tattoo machine clutched in his hand right at Jag in warning. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

The implication is clear.

Don’t put your hands on him.

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