Page 6 of Crave Me

Sawyer laughs. “Atta girl. Ivy will text you the details.”

“Sounds great. See you all tomorrow.”

We all go our separate ways and head back out into the winter chill. I’m lost in looking at the holiday displays and don’t notice when I run into a hard wall of a human leaving Book Bound, the indie bookstore. I bounce backward, lucky not to spill any of my coffee.

“I’m so sorry about that!”

“For fuck’s sake. Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

Dallas. Because of course it would be Dallas.

“What part of sorry did you not hear?”

“You wouldn’t need to say sorry if you were watching where you were going.”

“You would think that wouldn’t you? Because you never make mistakes. Speaking of, I’m sure the innocent girl you were going to corrupt last night is thankful you weren’t another notch on her bedpost.”

“Cheeky as always, princess.”

He leans down into my space, his head next to mine as he whispers in my ear, making my pulse race and sending chills down my spine.

“Trust me, nothing about what I would have done to her would have been considered a mistake. She’d be left more than satisfied and come back begging for more.”

My eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as thoughts of all the things Dallas could do behind closed doors flash before them, then I shake clear of the spell he has over me.

“You tell yourself that all you want, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Refusing to let Dallas get under my skin today, knowing that he’ll get a rude awakening at dinner tomorrow, I walk away, deciding to head into Rogue to check on Reid before going upstairs to my apartment. Especially because I don’t need Dallas seeing where I live. Lucky for me, he’s not currently tattooing any clients.

“Hey, you,” I greet him. He looks up from his workstation, his iPad displaying a gorgeous design he’s working on. The artist in me wants to look at the details, but I don’t ask. He takes off his glasses, which are such an enigma because the man is the size of an extra-angry Hulk, covered in tattoos from the neck down, and has shoulder-length hair. His occupation checks out.

“Hey there. What, no coffee for me?”

I pale, realizing the rudeness of my behavior.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Last minute decision to swing in to say hi,” I say sheepishly. He reaches down by his feet, picking up a Bean Haven to-go mug that matches my own, and smirks at me as he takes a long pull from it.

“Dick,” I tease while taking a seat across from him. “So, guess where I was just invited.”

“Hayes Sunday dinner.”

“What the hell? How’d you know?”

“’Cause you just came from Bean Haven. Which means Liam was probably there, and since Ivy can’t get enough of those damn apple cinnamon muffins, there’s a good chance she was there with Sawyer. Plus, they’re always trying to extend that invitation.”

“Smarty pants. They said you have a standing invitation but you don’t ever go. What’s up? Is there something I’m missing? There’s not some weird cult thing happening over there, is there? My roommate in college got sucked into one of those.”

He laughs at that.

“Nah, they’re good people. The best, actually. I just can’t bring myself to go. Got something else going on Sundays and don’t do family stuff like that.”

There’s something in his tone that brings me pause, taking a moment to decide whether I should press or not.

“I can see your brain working overtime, B. Just spill it.”

“Why can’t you go? From what I’ve seen and heard, you and Sawyer are best friends, you seem close with all of them, actually.”

He sighs before leaning back on his stool, resting his large, tattooed arms across his station behind him.

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