Page 6 of Three Reasons

“How’s that?” She holds it up for Cal to see, but he doesn’t give two shits about anything but her.

“Looks perfect, sugar.” He’s poking the bear now.

“It’s just Gray.” Her snap makes Cal smirk. I groan.

It’s nice to know she doesn’t like pet names; however, that won’t stop my friend, especially now that he knows it gets under her skin.

“Gray short for anything?” I ask. It’s a bit unusual for a woman to have that name.

“Sure is.” Her tone suggests that we don’t ask as she snaps on a fresh pair of gloves.

Fucking Callan doesn’t take a damn hint. “Feel like sharing with us?” He’s just gotta antagonize her.

I grind my teeth so I don’t cuff him upside the head.

“Nope.” She pops the P with a glare in her eyes.

Studying Cal’s face, I can tell he doesn’t appreciate her attitude, but he’s determined to push her buttons. I try to wave him off—she’s about to dig needles into his flesh any minute, for Pete’s sake—so I mouth,don’t piss her offwhen he finally looks at me.

He flips me off when she turns to grab her gun, dipping it in the ink as she pivots back and decides where to start.

When Callan opens his mouth to say something else, I beat him to it. “How long have you owned this place for?” Seems a safe topic.

“Three years.”Fuck me,he’s really done it now. Her tone is closed off and filled with anger.

“And you’re how old?” She’s young, I can tell, so to own a place like this for so long is a huge accomplishment.

“What the fuck is this, a job interview?” I think I enjoy the bite in her tone, too, because I knew she’d be pissed by my question.

“No, but your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,” Cal finally barks at her, shocking us both.

Shit.

The glare she shoots his way has me leaning as far away from the fire as possible.Nice fucking knowing ya, friend.

I watch Gray closely as she leans back, closes her eyes, and takes a measured breath before ignoring the two of us and starting on the tattoo. Callan doesn’t move a muscle as she works. We both keep our eyes on her, needing to delve inside her head but getting nothing. She’s closed off, and as much as I hate it, it’s our own fault.

Now, we’ve just got to find a way to fix it before we lose her for good.

Gray

The fucking set of balls on these two. I don’t know whether to kick them or lick them. Both are mouth-wateringly gorgeous, and for the first time in my life, I find myself overwhelmingly attracted to the opposite sex. The more they talk, however, the more I want to kick each of them.

Neither seems to have any qualms about putting their foot in their mouths either. I keep allowing them to because it’s a great source of amusement. I’d like to smile or laugh at their reactions to my attitude, but it’s funnier for me if they think I’m pissed.

Theshut the fuck uplooks their eyes keep screaming at each other is adorable. I find men who can speak to each other through glances like that attractive.

After slipping on the latex gloves—something I ordinarily do before touching a client, but I need to feel the warmth of his skin—I dip my ink gun in the liquid and get started.

“Hey there, muscles, turn the radio on, would you?” I nod towards the old-school appliance I keep on the counter in the corner.

“I have a name,” he mumbles while following directions. I can’t help the masked smile because he sounds like he’s pouting.

“Don’t we all.” I raise a brow at Callan because of the whole sugar thing. If he knew I was the furthest thing from sweet, he’d knock it off. He gives me a smug look, which pisses me off more, so instead of asking him if he’s ready, I just go in.

“Shit, woman,” he growls but doesn’t jump, and I hate that it impresses me. From what I understand, this is his first ink piece, and most, even big, strong men, will jump at the initial touch of the needle.

My hand flows from muscle memory as I draw a few lines, wipe the blood and excess ink away with a paper towel, and continue on. Every time I stop, I take a second to admire his gloriously chiselled muscles with that damn ‘V’ that makes anyone with a vagina go stupid. When he took off his shirt, I had to bite the inside of my cheek so I didn’t do or say something foolish.

---