Page 27 of Under the Ink

When Naomi rolled her eyes, it made her look less tough for all but a second. The woman projected a rough and tumbledon’t-fuck-with-mevibe, but how much of that was just a wall meant to keep people back?

His mind quickly flashed back to how she’d jerked her arm away from Andy’s finger earlier as if he were a venomous snake. Maybe it wasn’t a front. Maybe that was who she really was.

“And type. What exactly is your type?” Each word dripped with contempt as if he’d personally affronted her.

“Are you really offended by all this?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I can see on the surface why it might upset you—but I kinda feel like you’re coming from a place of slut-shaming these women who just want to spend some time with one of their favorite rock stars.”

“Really? You think I’m slut shaming these women you take advantage of?”

“Hold on a fucking second. I do not ever take advantage of these women. They are fully consenting and willing—and, if they weren’t, I wouldn’t do shit.”

“Have they been drinking or doing drugs before theyhook upwith you?”

“I told you we party together—so what do you think?”

She was fighting internally—that much was clear. The way the muscles on her face contorted under her lovely skin said it all. Still, she managed to keep her voice calm. “Maybe, under the influence, they’re not as consenting as they seem to be.”

“How would—” This was a futile argument, one he knew now he wasn’t going to win, but it was clear that this was a huge sticking point for her.

That’s all right. It’s just till September.

So he was simply going to re-steer the conversation. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t ask you to scope out chicks for me. It’s not a job requirement.”

“That’s a huge relief.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm…but Sage found it hilarious.

“I’ll ask Bobby to add that to the job description next time, though.”

“Are you—” No, he wasn’t serious. And as soon as she realized it, her face softened.

“You can relax. I’m not partying right now anyway.” His eyes drifted down to the bottle in her hand. Maybe abstaining from all the fun on the road had been a shitty idea—but it had seemed respectful somehow. “It just doesn’t seem right without Jimmy.”

When Naomi nodded her head, her face once more neutral and calm, Sage could almost see past that huge fucking wall she’d erected.

But he couldn’t help himself. “You gonna drink that or what?”

At first, she looked confused, but then it was like the weight of the bottle started pulling on her arm. “This?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably not. Why? Did you want it?”

“No sense it going to waste.”

Raising her dark eyebrows, she lifted the bottle to hand it to Sage, but her expression said it all—like she was handing poison to a willing victim. So when she opened her mouth, Sage expected another ass chewing. “When are we leaving?”

The unexpected question helped him chill. Until then, he hadn’t noticed how tense he’d been feeling.

Holding that beer in his hands didn’t hurt.

“Not sure. Probably in another hour or so.”

“Albuquerque, right?”

“Yeah. You ever been there?”

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