Page 242 of Breaking the Rules
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hunter
The piece comes together, bit by bit. The thick black words. The deep red petals. The sharp green thorns.
Wes sighs as I turn off the gun.
It's weird, seeing him this vulnerable.
Treating him like any other client.
He's a hell of a lot more bossy and difficult than any of my clients.
I clean him up, give him the standard after care speech, take him to the mirror.
The pretenses fall from his expression. "Fuck, Hunter." He traces the design in the air. "This is good."
"Thanks."
"Seriously. All that time in rehab was good for you."
"You figure?"
He looks up at me and shakes his head. "Fuck, dude, you're so serious now."
"Now?"
"Hell yeah, now. You even remember how you used to act?"
It's farther away every day.
I can't wait until that phase is a distant memory.
At the moment—"I see your point."
He nodshell yeah you do. "I get the whole brooding tattoo artist thing. I'm sure the chicks dig it. But you gotta tone it down."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He shrugs. "Trying to help you, dude."
In his way, he is. "You really working here or you fucking with me?"
"I start next week."
"We’re doomed."
He flashes me that classic Wes Keating smile. "Would you expect anything less?"
I walk him to the register.
He flirts with Emma enough to make her blush.
Insists on paying. And leaving a generous tip.
Tries to high-five me goodbye.
I pull him into a hug instead.
