Page 25 of Grace

“Maybe she wants to be my friend.” He grins as his eyes rake over my body.“Marko,” a rough voice vibrates through the shop. “Behave for once, will you?”

The man—the one who yelled at Marko—stands up from the left corner, into the light. His arms are covered in tattoos, curling under his shirt, and I’m sure there isn’t a place of empty skin on his big, gruff body. His piercings glint in the fluorescent light, and his gray hair is tied at the back of his neck in a small bun.

He snaps his gloves as he takes them off. He nods his head in my direction. “What’s this, Ash?”

“My roommate,” Ashley says, squeezing my hand. “What do you think, Ben?”

“You want a tattoo, honey?” he asks, looking me over slowly. “I’d be happy to put it on you myself, wherever you want.”

His dark eyes glint with excitement, but I don’t feel the same buzz from his gaze as it sweeps over me a second time. I clear my throat. “Maybe I could look at some options?”

I had no intention to get a tattoo, but maybe this is a first step into getting out of my safe bubble and embracing who I want to be until I become that person.

“You’ll have plenty of those. And I’m not shy. I can put a tattoo or piercing on you anywhere and make sure we both enjoy it,” he promises.

Ashley snorts. “Chill out with the flirting, man. You’re going to make her think our shops are scary,” Ashley snaps.

He rolls his eyes. “Youhave an appointment in five. Go get ready.”

Ashley kisses my cheek and hurries away, leaving me with this huge man in front of me. He hands me a book. “These are tattoos I’d like to do. I tattoo a lot of women, and I know how to make it safe, comfortable, and to give you privacy.”

“That’s good to know,” I breathe.

I skim through the book and feel him getting closer, but he doesn’t invade my space. He flirts occasionally, telling me that flowers belong on hips after seeing just a sliver of mine when my shirt inched up. But it doesn’t have the same effect Daniel’s flirting or looks do.

There’s no heat threatening to drag me into a pool of lava. My legs aren’t threatening to give out.

Ben doesn’t make me uncomfortable, either. He’s not pushy. Every flirty line is like an offer that he’s waiting for me to grab. He does actually show me some good tattoos, listens to what I’m interested in, which is nice, and when I don’t respond to his flirting, he puts more space between us.

“You don’t have to make a choice on the spot, Grace. The last thing I want to do is cover up your first tattoo in a few years. It’s a forever decision and one you can take your time on,” he says gently.

Honestly, he should scare me, all buff, inked, and pierced, but there’s something so effortlessly warm and kind about him. I think he’d be a good big brother. I smile. “I’ll have to think more about it, but I’m sure Ashley won’t let me forget.”

He scoffs. “She won’t. She’s going to bug you about it constantly. You don’thaveto be tattooed by her, though. You have options.”

“Options tend to be good,” I agree.

He looks me over again and smirks. “I’d offer to take you out for drinks so I can get to know you better, but I have a feeling you’re going to turn me down.”

I smile at him. “I would. I just got out of a relationship,” I say honestly. “And… I’m figuring things out.”

“Well, the best way to get over a relationship is to be with someone who actually makes you feel something.” Ben scratches the back of his head. “Trust me. I have plenty of experience in that department.”

“Thanks,” I say, then glance around. “Um, do I just sit here or…?”

“She’ll be done in an hour, and then we’ll go to the bar down the street. If you don’t want to come, I can give you a ride home. You ever been on a motorcycle?” he asks.

No. Because Sebastian always said they were death machines and before him, my parents told me that they’d rather I try skydiving than a motorcycle. Which suddenly makes this offer seem twice as tempting. If I’m curious, I should try it, right? It’s not permanent like a tattoo or that dangerous if I’m not the one driving.

I beam. “No, which is clearly something I will let you fix.”

He grins at me and leans back to grab something out of the dark wooden desk. My brows draw together as he lifts a bottle of whisky with two glasses.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drink when I know something so precious will be holding me tightly later tonight,” he taunts and pours me a glass.

A soft laugh falls from my lips as I take the glass. The scent burns my nose and I blink. Cautiously, I take a sip. The harsh taste glides over my tongue, and I quickly swallow.

Ben chuckles as he stares at me. “Not your kind of drink?”

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