Page 81 of Haunted

I frown. “Why would her being good at drawing make him angry?”

He shrugs then takes a seat on his stool and starts pulling out items and putting them on top of the tool box he uses to store all his supplies. “I don’t know. Maybe because she takes after me, Ella, and our dad, and he can’t draw worth shit. It’s something we all four have in common that he doesn’t.”

“He should be proud of her,” I say heatedly, angry on Aria’s behalf. What kind of father gets jealous over their kids? “That’s why he doesn’t put her pictures on the fridge.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but Luca nods anyway. “It’s also why my, Ella’s, and my parents’ fridges are covered in them. She needs to realize her talent at drawing is a gift that she should be proud of.”

I twist back and forth on my chair and watch as he pulls out a bottle of dark ink and squirts some in a tiny cup. He then pulls out another tattoo machine, opens a package of needles and puts them in the machine. Everything comes so natural to him, I’m sure he could probably do it with his eyes closed.

My gaze slides over his face. He still hasn’t shaved, so the scruff on his face is thicker. I normally don’t care for the rugged look, but on Luca, it’s very appealing. The piercing in his eyebrow is a simple silver ball on both sides. The gauges in his ears aren’t very large, probably the size of a pencil eraser. I’ve also seen a silver ball in his tongue peek out sometimes when he talks. His arms are covered in tattoos, and I know his torso must carry some as well from the color that shows just above the collar of his shirt. Tattoos and piercings also have never been really attractive to me—not that I find them repulsive, I just never went gaga over them like many girls have. On Lucathough, it’s alluring, almost seductive even. I couldn’t imagine him without all the body modifications, and I wouldn’t want to even if I could.

“You know…,” I start. He looks up from what he’s doing when I pause. I clear my throat and continue. “Just from looking at you, I wouldn’t have taken you for being such a nice guy.”

His brows rise, and I realize too late how my statement sounded. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

“I d-didn’t… mean it like that.” My shoulders hunch; I feel like an idiot. “I just meant you give off this vibe that says don’t fuck with me, not the caring guy you apparently are.”

His smirk looks entirely way too good on his face, and I’ve already made a fool of myself, so it’s time for me to leave.

I get up, tossing my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m gonna go back out front.”

His smirk turns into a grin. Before I can turn away, he pats the chair in front of him. “Come sit.”

Unsure of what he’s up to, I walk to him slowly. He pushes his stool back for me to fit between him and the chair. When I sit, he scoots his stool forward again and messes around with his tattoo machine. I’m still facing him with my feet dangling just above the floor.

“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

He looks at me out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not doing anything. You are.”

My brows wrinkle in confusion. He pulls a pair of gloves out of a box and tosses them on my lap.

“There are a couple spots on my arm that I need touched up. You’re going to do it for me.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I practically screech. “I-I-I can’t do that!”

His chuckle is deep and the light in his already bright eyes is striking. I ignore the flutters thelook sends to my stomach.

“It’s only a couple of lines, and I never tattoo myself.”

I warily watch as he slips on a pair of gloves then dips the tip of the tattoo machine in the black ink and presses the pedal to turn the machine on.

“Then get Ella to do it,” I tell him. “I can’t tattoo you, Luca. I’ll totally screw it up.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll help you. Now put the gloves on.”

Hesitantly, I pick the gloves up, looking at the latex guardedly, as if they’ll bite me, then pull them on. Once they’re in place, Luca scoots his chair closer to me until his chest meets my knees. He lifts his eyes, and without him asking, I know what he wants. My heart rate accelerates as I open my legs and he moves forward until my inner thighs meet his sides. His gaze stays on mine, and I know he’s making sure I’m okay with the intimate position.

Once he sees I’m fine, he stretches out his left arm and lays it across my thigh until most of his arm is behind me. The crook of his elbow is on my upper thigh. His other hand is holding the tattoo machine and is resting on my other leg, just above my knee. With him between my legs and his arm resting on my thigh, I feel surrounded by him. It almost makes me dizzy.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whisper. When he takes the meaning behind my words the wrong way and starts to remove his arm, I grab his bicep. “I’m worried I’ll do it wrong or completely mess something up.”

His smile is gentle and warm, but there’s an underlying tenseness in his features. I can feel it where my thighs are pressed against his sides as well.

“Look down,” he says, his voice rougher than normal.

Luca’s eyes darken as he follows the movement when I lick my lips, then rub them together before looking down at his arm. His shirt sleeve is pulled up past his shoulder.

“See the black line that follows along the outside edge of theeagle’s beak?” When I nod, he continues. “All I want you to do is run over that line. It’s faded some and just needs a touch-up. Same thing with the line running along the bottom of the angel wing on the left side.”

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