Page 34 of Coco and the Misfits

He looks adorably baffled. “I thought you said…”

“The other night, at the Alpha Bet…” I want to tell him but my mouth won’t cooperate. I grimace.

“Say no more. You did something you regret and I feel that.” He lifts both hands. “That night I got drunk and ended up with a tattoo.”

Now that gets my attention. Did I mention I love tall, muscular alphas? Well, ink and piercings are hot, too. “You did? Show me.”

Let me confess right here and now that I didn’t expect him to grab the back of his neck and pull the T-shirt right off him. Just my luck that the tattoo is on his chest, right? His glorious, muscular chest, his eight-pack, miles of golden skin stretched over hard muscle honed to perfection.

Oh boy…

I may be traumatized by what happened the other night but I’m not made of stone.

Whereas this man’s chest looks as if it were hewn from rock. Marble. Or maybe granite. Something hard and polished.

He’s saying something. His mouth is moving, so he must be saying something, right?

“What?” I ask with immense intelligence and eloquence.

“I said, what do you think of it?”

Muscular. Powerful. Lickable, definitely. A work of art. Hot as hell. Is that what he’s asking?

“The tattoo,” he clarifies.

“Oh… right. The tattoo.” I lean in to take a closer look at the smudge on one of his hard-rock pecs. “Is that… a bird?”

“A phoenix. Ryder said it suits me.” He laughs, a low, delicious sound. “Suits me. I have almost no memory from that night, except…”

“Except?” My mind is caught on that name, Ryder. June was right. A tattoo artist.

“Except seeing you,” he says more softly. He lifts a hand to my face, to stroke the side of my mouth, and I flinch.

I honest-to-God flinch before my mind fully engages with the gesture, flashing me back to those two guys grabbing me and gagging me and?—

“Coco?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I should get going.” I’m backtracking as I speak, not sure what I’m saying. “It’s late. Got things… to do.”

“Coco.”

“Thanks for… whatever. See you. Bye.”

He follows me as I inch toward the exit. “What happened, Coco?”

“Nothing.”

“Something spooked you.”

“Nothing, Zach.”

“Ezra told me… he told me that the bar owner took you home that night. Why?”

“Why not?” I’m almost out. The cool air from the opening door clears my head a little. “I’m free to hitch rides with whomever I want.”

“Dammit, Coco.”

Hysterical laughter bubbles up my throat. “What did you think happened?” His brows pull together and I can almost read his mind. “That he fucked me afterward as payment for the ride?”

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