Page 24 of London Inked Boys: The Complete Trilogy
“No! I inherited this place. I’m allowed to live here if I want to. I might have done things differently if I’d known you were already staying here.”
“Would you? You didn’t even know me. Would you really have just said, ‘hey, that’s fine, stay a few more weeks’ rent free? No problem.’”
I remember my reaction when I first met him, how he appeared rough and dangerous, with that London accent and almost permanent scowl. If I’d found he’d been living rent-free in the place I not only owned but was also moving into, I’d have been furious and unforgiving. I hadn’t known him back then, not like I do now.
My lips twist as I admit it. “Okay, you’re right. I wouldn’t have been happy.”
His arms fold across his chest, and I try not to be distracted by those annoyingly perfect muscles in his forearms.
“But,” I continue, “I still don’t understand why you weren’t able to just find someplace else. You have your own business and I’ve seen how busy the shop always is. It’s filled with customers. Surely you could have taken some money out of the business to find your own place?”
“There isn’t any extra money in the business. Your increase in rent didn’t help that.”
“You didn’t know about the increase in rent a few months ago.” I frown. “I don’t get it. Why isn’t there any money from the shop? There are always clients waiting to get work done—the place is packed. Aren’t you booked up for weeks? I’m sure I overheard Rocco saying that to someone on the phone the other day.”
“Yeah, we have plenty of clients,” he says, not meeting my eye.
“So why aren’t you making enough money to put a roof over your head?”
His cobalt blue gaze snaps to mine. “Is that all you care about, making money?”
His sudden anger confuses me. “No, of course not! I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you.”
“Nothing’s going on with me. I was doing just fine until you showed up. You’re the one who came along and messed everything up.”
Tears of anger and frustration fill my eyes. I don’t know why he’s being like this. “I’m sorry, I just felt bad that you didn’t have anywhere to stay.”
“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”
He turns and storms away, leaving me standing there, doing my best not to cry, and failing.
The following day, I linger at the doorway of my flat, watching down the stairs. Only, it isn’t Art I’m looking out for.
Finally, one of the other men who work in the shop emerges, crossing the bottom of the stairs. I recognise the shaved head and scruff of beard.
I lean out of my door and hiss at him. “Hey, Rocco! Have you got a minute?”
He turns to me with a smile. “Sure, Tess. What’s up?”
I jerk my head back into my apartment. “Up here.”
He frowns slightly, but doesn’t question me, instead climbing the stairs to join me.
I shut the door, enclosing us both inside the apartment. I turn to Rocco. “I might be completely out of line here, but I’m worried about Art.”
His frown deepens. “Art? Why? Art can look after himself.”
“Yeah, I know, but I hate the idea of him being homeless, and I kind of feel responsible, even though I had no idea he wasliving here. But now I’ve moved in and basically thrown him out, even though I didn’t know...”
I’m rambling and Rocco lifts a hand to stop me.
“Just wind back a minute. What do you mean he’s homeless?”
“Oh, shit. You didn’t know?”
He rubs his hand over his scruff. “No, of course not.”
“He says he’s broke and can’t afford to rent anywhere, but how can that be when the shop is packed and he’s booking up clients months in advance?” I hate myself a little for telling him this. Art won’t be happy about me giving away his secrets—he’s too proud for his own good—but I need the truth.
