Page 85 of Out of the Shadows
She patted my back as I sputtered and waved a hand dismissively.
“Don’t pretend, I know you want one too. I’ve seen all the shit you’ve pinned on Pinterest.”
I glared at her with pursed lips. She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t sure I could handle the spur-of-the-moment nature of the situation.
“You only live once,” she said with a wicked smile.
I snorted. “Really, Ella? You’reyolo-ingme?”
“If you prefer, I also have Live, Laugh, Love on offer?”
“Oh my God,pleaseshut up.” I put my hand to my forehead, thinking, but maddeningly, I couldn’t come up with any real reason not to do it.
“So, are you in?” She sipped her water again and looked atme, lips parted in anticipation.
“Yeah, I guess.” I relented, perhaps not quite as reluctantly as I might have pretended.
She rolled her eyes. “I know deep down you want to. You just need a little push, and I love being the one to do the pushing. Adds a nice thrill to my life when I can force someone into their own happiness.”
“You’re horrible,” I grumbled.
“You love me.” She waved me off.
“Unfortunately.” Then I pointed at her. “You’re buying me a white Monster for springing this on me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I want to celebrate my victory with some ink. I think it’ll elevate me to an eight out of ten, don’t you think?”
I snorted, trying to keep up with her long strides as she suddenly seemed charged with new energy. “Ella, you’re smoking hot as is. Legit a ten out of ten.”
“Ten out of ten, my ass. Tens don’t get ditched constantly.” Deep creases lined her forehead, and her mouth turned downward. The forlorn expression was gone in an instant, though, replaced by a thoughtful wrinkle of her nose and her puckered lips pulled to one side. “Well, maybe a little body decor will finally get me laid.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” I deadpanned. “So, what are you getting inked?”
***
I wanted so much to stroke the area covered by the foil that the tattoo artist had called second skin, but the skin underneath was sore and sensitive.
The talent and skill that went into creating this work of art on my body was truly incredible. I was tempted to praise Ellafor her great idea and impeccable choice of tattoo shop, but that would probably go to her head.
It felt like an act of rebellion, even if that was bullshit. I was old enough to make my own decisions, after all. I sipped the white Monster as I drove the now familiar route to Colt’s house.
I was dying to see the look on his face when he got his first glimpse of my new ink. The possibility of him thinking it was too much made me a little anxious, though. I’d had my motive in mind for quite some time, but the last few weeks with Colt had only cemented it.
I parked in front of the house, walked along the path to the door, and was not surprised to find it unlocked. For some fucking reason, they had a problem with locking the door; I always found it open.
Shaking my head, I stepped through. Those idiots. Even two football players over six and a half feet tall could be victims of a home invasion.
The downstairs seemed empty, and normally, I would have announced my presence by calling out loudly, but deep, raised voices from upstairs, as well as my name being mentioned more than once, deterred me.What was going on here?
The anxiety from before turned into a sinking feeling, growing from a small knot to a huge lump deep in my gut. I paused, trying to figure out what was going on from here, but I couldn’t make out enough.
I tiptoed up the stairs, my heart pounding so hard in my chest I thought I might hear it crashing against my ribs. My insides felt like they were covered in a thin layer of ice that was getting thicker and thicker while my face burned and brought a cold sweat to my forehead. I knew deep in my soulthat something was wrong.
A loud bang sounded from above, as if someone had hit something, and I froze, not daring to move a muscle. I definitely wouldn’t make a good spy, my nerves almost paralyzed me, but my curiosity kept pushing me on. Like so many times before, my curiosity was my weakness and might yet be this cat’s undoing. I wondered how many metaphorical lives I had left before I met my end.
Creeping to the landing, I stopped. Voices were ringing out of Hunter’s room.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it — I’m an idiot for making a sex tape.” That was Colt’s voice. He sounded frustrated, but as his words registered, I stiffened.He seriously told Hunter about this?
