Page 53 of Virgin Skin

My heart beats a little faster, an urgent kind of feeling rising up inside of me. Like if we don’t talk now, before we go into work and see everyone else, before Piston sees Hero again, before the real world fully creeps back in, it’ll be too late.

He sighs. “Mi, there’s nothing—”

The rumble of another engine cuts him off. He looks past me and winces, and I know before I even turn around what I’m going to see. I look over my shoulder anyway, because what other choice do I have? Sure enough, my dad’s truck rolls to a stop at the end of the driveway, and seconds later, he hops out.

“I hope this bullshit hurries up and melts so we can get another few weeks of riding in before winter,” he grumbles, tugging the collar of his leather jacket up and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

His eyes move between Piston and me, and I swear I can feel the shift in the air as Piston tenses. I fight the urge to roll my eyes again. If he’s actually planning to keep this from Hero, he’s going to need to work on his poker face. I’ll admit, a tiny bit of guiltmightseep into my gut as Hero approaches with a sunny smile and opens his arms to pull me in for a quick hug.

“You survived your first Wisconsin blizzard.”

I laugh as he pats my back roughly and then lets me go.

“It wasn’t so bad. I’ve had worse in Colorado.” I wave my hand dismissively. “And when I was ten, my mom got this wild hair up her ass that led to us spending one winter in Alaska.”

“In that case, maybe I should have been charging you with making sure Piston survived the storm instead of the other way around.” He chuckles.

I grin. “Don’t worry, I made sure he stayed nice and warm.”

Piston wheezes out a sound that I think is meant to be a laugh. “With hot chocolate,” he blurts. “Little mini marshmallows.”

Hero tilts his head and looks at Piston like he’s losing his damn mind. Seriously, so much chill is needed.

“Right.” I nod. An awkward silence falls between the three of us for a few beats before I manage to rally. “Did you come to give me a ride to work?” I don’t bother to bring up the fact that he got Jag to give me a car so no one else would have to drive me to work or anywhere else. I’m guessing this is just part of his own guilt he’s working through about not being there for me growing up. “I’m all set, so we can go.”

“Yeah, I figured we’d stop at the diner and grab some breakfast on the way, if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds great.” I make a move towards his truck.

“Coat?” They both say simultaneously. This time I do roll my eyes. When I came looking for my dad, I don’t think I was expecting quite so much…daddying. I guess I shouldn’t complain though; it is kind of nice to have people worrying about me, even if it’s a little bit annoying.

I dart back into the house to grab my jacket and in just a few minutes, I’m basking in the warmth of the cab of Hero’s truck on our way towards Main Street. He chatters away, his voice a soothing drone as he tells me how he spent the past forty-eight hours getting hooked on some gay romance book Jag left at his house months ago.

I’m just glad he doesn’t ask how Piston and I spent the weekend, because as much as I was just rolling my eyes over Piston’s poker face, I’ve never been able to lie when asked direct questions. So I keep the focus on Hero and his apparent smut rabbit hole, and I try to ignore the disappointed pit in my stomach telling me I missed my chance with Piston. He’s goingto spend all day convincing himself that what we did was bad and wrong, and by the time we get home tonight it’ll be too late.

PISTON

There’s a hollow feeling in my chest that’s been there since I climbed out of bed before dawn and left Milo drooling on my pillow. I feel like the world’s biggest scumbag. As soon as Hero looked me in the eye in my driveway, I was sure he was going to see what I did written all over my face. What Istillwant to do.

Milo’s trill of laughter catches my attention over the music. I pause mid-stroke shading the feathers on the raven I’m inking and look over my shoulder at him behind the counter at the front of the shop. He’s leaning over with his elbows on the glass, chatting with a customer about something that’s apparently hilarious. I narrow my eyes at the asshole with the green mohawk and gauged ears who’s smiling right back at Milo.

“Hey, Piston,” Jag calls over the buzzing of needles and the low hum of the nineties grunge I put on as soon as I got to the shop this morning.

I jerk my gaze away from Milo and focus back on my work, grunting to acknowledge Jag but kind of hoping he doesn’t have actual plans to follow up with whatever taunt he was clearly preparing.

“You seem crabby this morning. I thought you’d be in a better mood after finally getting laid this weekend.”

I take my foot off the pedal so my needle stops immediately, and I close my eyes in a silent prayer for patience. The dude in my chair, Blake, chuckles, and I hear the curtain that blocks off Brick’s piercing nook rattle and slide open. Dude is like a groundhog, only bothering to pop his head out of his hidey hole when he thinks something interesting is happening.

“You got laid? Good for you, man. How long has it been?” Tex, dumbass that he is, seems completely oblivious to the factthat Jag is busting my balls. The low chuckle from Arrow’s direction tells me he caught on just fine though, even if he isn’t surewhyJag is busting my balls.

Beads of sweat form on the back of my neck and I resist the urge to look over my shoulder at Milo again. His laughter has died down and I swear someone must have turned down the music, because suddenly the squeak of every shoe and the rumble of every roller chair is loud as fuck.

“My mood is fine.” I go with responding to Jag’s jab rather than answering Tex’s question, because I’m not about to openthatcan of worms.

“I don’t hear you denying the allegation though.” Hero chuckles. “Does that mean Jag is telling the truth? Did you tag along to the club and manage to pull some ass?”

Fucking fuck. I know I need to just be cool and roll with the lie Milo planted back at The Grind, but I feel like I’m going to hurl. I give Blake a tight smile and set down the needle.

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