Page 2 of Three Reasons

I want to honour my father with a memorial tattoo, but I have yet to figure out a design. So, here we fucking are…. some tattoo shop with a woman looking sexy as sin.

I see the look in Eli’s eyes, as well. He’s giddy for the woman behind the counter. Hell, so am I. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to the opposite sex before.

When we began sharing women in college, it wasn’t a shock to our families. They always knew we were close. It wasn’t long after that we realized it was what we wanted for the future.

One woman to share forever.

In the years since, we’ve been searching for the right one.

Staring at the tattooed goddess before us, I think this might be an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored.

“Fucking stunning,” I mutter after telling Eli to shut it.

“Have a seat, guys, and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Her voice makes my heart pound. I want to hear more of it.

Eli nudges me over to the bright pink sofa that runs along the storefront window, then we sit, silently watching her as she attends to the customer at the counter. Her eye rolls are fucking adorable as she tries to rush the woman out.

“Think she’d go for it?” Eli whispers next to me. Meaning a date.

“Turn on your charm, and maybe.” We both know I’m an asshole. Everyone assumes I’m sweet and cuddly because of my slightly unkempt blond hair, light-blue eyes, and clean-shaven face. Until I open my mouth and start telling off everyone around me. I don’t deal in bullshit, and most already know that.

Eli shakes his head next to me. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, man.” I shrug, knowing he’s wrong but not wanting the argument right now.

The woman at the counter spins around to head out but stops when she notices us. As she’s about to open her mouth, I place my hand on Eli’s upper thigh to give the impression thatwe aren’t interested in women. She huffs and mutters, “What a waste,” as she leaves.

I don’t need to look at Eli to know he’s grinning like a fool. “I had no idea you felt that way, man.” Dropping his hand over mine, he squeezes and drags it higher to tease me. His shouted, “Fuck,” when I pinch his thigh makes me grin as well.

The girl glances up at us, a smirk on her dark red lips. “You guys got a five-minute wait in you?”

“Babe, we’ve got all the time you need.” She rolls her eyes when Eli winks at her. We spot a slight blush glide up her cheeks as she turns away and heads into the back.

“She looks like she could fuck you up, my friend.” Standing, I peruse the artwork hanging on the wall. The person drawing these is skilled. “Who am I here to see?” I don’t look back to Eli.

“Gray Ryhan. Supposed to be the best in the province.” Recognizing that signature on most of the wall art, I can agree with the statement.

“Alright, fellas, how can I help you?” I turn at the smoky voice to see she’s wearing a crop top with short sleeves, cutoff denim shorts, hot pink suspenders, and biker boots. Her smooth legs covered in vine tattoos get my mouth watering for a taste of her.

She wears confidence like a protective shield, and I can’t help but admire that in a woman. She’s stunning with her cobalt-blue eyes and the dark red lip stain that has me staring at their plumpness too long, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I loved her cherry-red hair.

I was attracted from far away without seeing beyond her face because she’s petite, and the counter is high, but up close, she’s perfection wrapped in a stunning canvas of artwork.

“Got an appointment with Mr. Ryhan,” Eli replies, his eyes eating her up just as much as my own.

“You got her.” She grins, enjoying our surprise.

Gray

Ifucking hate Christmas.Most holidays involving family, if I’m honest. After dealing with Little Miss Sunshine here for the last four hours, I’m ready to close up shop, grab a pizza and some cookies, and head home to hibernate until spring.

Listening to Missy blabber on about her family and their upcoming ski trip to Whistler, I’d like to just pop in some headphones and kick her out.

You’re almost finished, Gray. Just smile.

I’ve been telling myself that for a few hours now, and I’m over it. Thankfully, her session is finished, and she’s ready to leave. I’m so done listening to her talk about her perfect, happy family.

Family…What a joke.

At least, mine is.

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