Page 14 of Under My Skin
Pulling my feet underneath me, I sit cross-legged on his tattoo chair. “I—but I’m here now.”
He nods. “And you’ll be here all weekend. If you still want the tattoo, come back tomorrow.”
I glower at him. “You know this is bullshit, right?”
He smiles, and I hate the warming effect it has on me. “I know, but this way makes me feel like I’m doing a good deed.”
Getting to my feet, I tuck my phone in my back pocket. “I don’t need you to save me from myself. I’ve thought about this.”
He stays seated on his stool, the same look of amusement shaping his features. “I’m sure you have.”
“This isn’t fair. You wouldn’t turn me away if you didn’t know me.” I may have only come up with this tattoo idea when I sawCopper Ridge Tattoo Co.out front, but now that I’ve come to terms with it, I don’t want to leave here without one. I don’t want to see my parents without having something to shock them just as much.
He tilts his head. “Sure, I would.”
I lift a dubious brow before taking a step closer to him. “I’m sure you’ve given plenty of girls worse tattoos than this.” I gesture toward the sleeping cat on my ankle even though it’s hidden under my pants at this point.
He lets out a laugh and nods. “I definitely have.”
The fact that I’m practically standing over him should give me some sense of having the upper hand in this conversation, but even with him sitting and looking up at me, his unwavering attention is unnerving in a way that has me tempted to take a step back.
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Then what’s the problem?”
Everett smiles a little at the question before getting to his feet. Now I’m the one who has to look up at him, and fighting the urge to take a step back has turned into fighting the urge to run out the door. We’re toe to toe, and the warmth practically radiates from his body.
Just when I don’t think it’s possible for us to be closer, he leansforward, and my breath catches in my throat. “The problem?” he says with an arch to his brow that might be considered playful if being this close to him wasn’t making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. His lips pull upward, and as if he were letting me in on a secret, he says, “We don’t take walk-ins.”
Chapter Eight
EVERETT
Without waiting for a response,I turn and pick up the cat carrier on the bottom step. Pudge lets out a tiny meow, probably in protest of being picked up by a stranger, but he settles as soon as he’s back in familiar arms.
Lucy gapes at me. “You don’t take walk-ins,” she says quietly, like the thought had never occurred to her.
“Nope.” I cross my arms. “Never have. I’m surprised you didn’t stumble across that while you were making this carefully thought-out plan.”
She blinks, her eyes refocusing on me. “I’m sorry . . . I—” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
It’s mildly off-putting to see the fight drain from her so quickly. She looks like she’s been snapped out of a trance, and like I’m the one who poured the bucket of ice water on her head.
“Look, if you like the tattoo, I’ll do it for you tomorrow night. Saturdays are busy here, but I don’t mind staying late. Just let me know.”
She frowns seconds before forcing a small smile, and for the first time tonight, I can see how much she’s struggling. “Hey,” I say when she starts to look lost in her thoughts again. Her blue eyesclear, and I add, “I’m sorry about your parents. Just know everything will work out. It will be different, but different doesn’t have to mean bad.”
She nods, swallowing down whatever had her attention a moment ago. Looking down at Pudge in the carrier, she sticks one of her fingers through a gap in the zipper to scratch him behind the ears. “Yeah, different doesn’t have to mean bad.” She flicks her eyes up to mine with a small smile, and I’m relieved it looks more genuine than the last. “Sometimes I just wish change came with more of a warning.”
“Don’t we all.”
I’m tempted to ask if her parents have told her about their split yet, but it feels too personal. I might know Lucy, but I don’tknowLucy, and if there’s any chance that question would unravel the string barely holding her together, I don’t want to be the one to send her spinning.
“So, tomorrow.” She nods with conviction.
Mirroring her movement, I echo, “Tomorrow.”
With that, she grins and heads toward the exit. She picks up the bag she left up front and swings it over her shoulder. And when she presses her back against the door to push it open with her arms full, my eyes are still on her.
We lock gazes, but only long enough for one more weak lift of her lips. Then, she’s out the door and onto the busy street. It isn’t until she walks out of view that I blink back to reality. And only then do I realize Toni, petite and unsuspecting, stands at my side and stares in the same direction.
