Page 18 of Devilish Ink

I’d hoped he would stay on his side of the counter, but it seemed Lee had no sense of personal space. He stood right next to me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. Even fully dressed he affected me.

“Are you sure you won’t let me give you the tattoo for free?” I asked as I fiddled with the buttons of the old-fashioned cash register.

He shook his head. “Nope. You did good work.”

I rolled my eyes. “I attacked you then cut you.”

He chuckled. “You’re certainly not someone I will forget any time soon.”

The warmth and heaviness of his words twanged something deep in my chest.

“A discount then,” I insisted. “Asteepdiscount.”

“I’ll accept no such thing,” he said, holding my gaze with a comfortableness that I envied.

I tore my eyes away. “You have to let me do something. I mean, you’re literally bleeding because of me.”

“Drinks then.”

I sucked in a breath, grabbing for the edge of the counter so that my knees wouldn’t give out.

Fuck. It’d be so easy to just…be normal with him.

To go for drinks with this handsome man. To laugh and spillmy secrets and dreams like diamonds over pints of Guinness. To let him pay and walk me home…

But I was not normal. I could never be normal. I could never have a normal life, not anymore.

“I…can’t,” I forced out. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Something like realisation crossed his face, then a flash of guilt. “Right. Of course.”

Of course?Did he see the reason I couldn’t date him?

He couldn’t possibly.

He handed me cash for the full amount and his fingers brushed mine. That single touch was so charged, electricity ran up my arm and I couldn’t fight the shudder that went through me.

I was so close to breaking, so close to giving in and just yellingyesto the drink,yesto the date, andGod, yesto whatever came after.

But he didn’t push. Damn him, he didn’t push.

I didn’t fail to notice how bitter the disappointment tasted on my tongue.

We walked together to the front door, both of us slow, so slow, as if we were trying to squeeze out every last second left. Our arms kept brushing, goosebumps running across my skin and my hair standing on end as if reaching for him.

My gaze kept drawing sideways. Every single time our eyes locked because he was already looking at me.

I tore my eyes away and swore I wouldn’t look again but without fail, a second later I found his green eyes as the centre of my vision.

Finally we reached the door. For a moment he just stood there.

So did I.

Neither of us reaching for the handle.

My fingers itched to reach to straighten his collar, to brush that piece of lint off his shoulder, any fucking excuse to touchhim, but I dug my nails into my palms and pressed them into my sides to stop myself.

“Well,” I said.

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