Page 88 of Scrimmage

“It’s Koda. Not Chance.”

“Oh, sorry,” Angel apologizes. I can see her trying to figure out if she heard Ashland wrong.

Ashland looks at me with a devilish grin. “You ruin everything." Fucking brat.

Angel looks between us. “Are you tattooing him or something?”

“No, he’s just stalking me.”

That makes Angel concerned. “Should I get Prince?” she whispers.

A door opens and a man strides out. He looks like a fucking tattoo influencer. He’s got on a tight shirt with some design and black jeans that are rolled up on the bottom with a backwards hat. Tattoos cover his arms, just like Ashland’s. Both of his hands are tatted up, too.

“I thought I heard you.” He smiles at her. Despite how he looks, the guy seems shy. He takes a look at me, then glances at Angel. “Is he here for a tattoo? I have an opening.”

“No,” Angel says, uneasy. “This is Koda.”

The guy just kind of stands there, unsure of what to say. He glances at Ashland, then back at me. “Is he bothering you?”

“Always, but he’s just being annoying right now.”

He looks at her carefully before sticking his hand out. “I’m Prince.”

This is Prince. This guy. This is the tattoo god Alexi said was her situationship, and she denied that. He’s exactly what I would picture Ashland’s dream guy to be. I shake his hand because I don’t have a read on him, yet. He tries to crush mine, but this is my throwing arm so I squeeze until he lets go. It was a fight for dominance, but I’m not sure what kind.

“Nice to meet the guy Ash spends so much time with.” My tone is easy but the guy hears the threat in my voice.

“Cool,” he says dismissively. “So, Sweetheart, I was thinking that maybe we could go through your sketchbook and use one of your designs.”

“Oh, uh, really?”

“Yeah. I liked the one you did with the chains and the hands.”

As he speaks, I take Ashland’s hand and put her phone in it with a charger and her bag. She glances in my direction, deep in thought.

Prince doesn’t even notice. “I want you to come to the convention and tattoo it on me. Put yourself out there. It would be a great opportunity for when you take over my chair. Let’s face it. You’ll probably win.”

“I don’t know,” she mutters to herself.

“Come on." He waves her inside of his room. “I’ll show you what I was thinking.”

She stops herself, glancing at me. “You’re still here?”

“Charge your phone." I nod to the stuff I put into her hand. It’s like she’s seeing it for the first time. “Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come and get you. Eat something.” I shove a power bar in her hands.

“I can walk.”

“You can, but you won’t.”

She rolls her eyes and doesn’t even say goodbye before shutting the door behind her.

“So, are you going to stand there all afternoon?” Angel raises a penciled brow at me.

“When does he usually let her go?”

“Probably never if he could help it.” Her words are suggestive, and I don’t fucking like them. “Maybe eleven,” she continues. “Prince sleeps, but Sweetheart doesn’t. I’m sure you know that, though.”

I don’t know that. Now I do. Cole working at the Roost is looking really convenient.

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