Page 79 of Ink Me Three Times
I don’t know why I do it, but before I can stop myself, I’m walking toward her.
"Hey," I say, sounding a little rougher than I mean to. But fuck it, I’ve been holding it together for too long.
She looks up, and I swear, the moment her eyes meet mine, everything slows down. She doesn’t look shocked, like she didn’texpect me to be here. No, she just gives me that small, guarded smile, like she’s trying to keep her distance but still feels something too.
"Hey," she replies, voice lighter than I expect. Like maybe she’s relieved I’m not starting some bullshit confrontation.
I look at the mason jar in her hand, trying to focus on anything but how much I want to reach out and pull her closer.
"Pickle’s getting spoiled, huh?" I gesture to the jar. It’s one of those overpriced, artisanal dog treats that only a dog with a better life than mine would need.
She gives me a little shrug. "He deserves it."
Damn it.
I can’t eventhinkstraight when I look at her. She’s been on my mind since the moment she came into town. Since the moment we had that burning hot night together.
"Yeah, I bet."
Pickle sniffs at me, like he’s judging me, and I let out a breath that’s probably too heavy for just a casual run in.
Ivy notices. I can see it in the way her eyebrows furrow slightly.
The silence between us is thick. Not the comfortable kind. The kind that feels like it’s about to snap any second.
"So, uh, how’ve you been?" she asks, but there’s something in her tone that says she’s just trying to make the conversation feel normal. Like nothing’s changed.
I chuckle darkly, because everything’s changed. "Same old. Work, you know."
"Being the same mysterious, broody artist type, right?"
The last time she said that to me…
Well, things got out of hand.
"I’ve been busy," I say, keeping my tone flat. "Real busy."
The silence sits heavy between us. Too heavy. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I don’t know why I’m standing inthe middle of this damn grocery store like an idiot, but I can’t bring myself to walk away.
And then, without even thinking about it, I blurt it out.
"Hey, you wanna go for a walk?" I ask, the words rushing out before I can stop them.
She looks at me, eyebrows knitting together for a second, like she’s not sure what to make of the offer. But then, she just nods, giving me that small, hesitant smile that makes my stomach twist.
"Sure," she says, her voice almost too light.
And just like that, we’re walking. I don’t know why I asked, but here we are, side by side, heading out of the store and into the quiet of the outskirts of town.
Thank God for Pickle, he’s a great distraction, especially now that he’s just stopped, dead.
I glance over just in time to see him standing frozen, his eyes wide, locked onto a poor unsuspecting squirrel that’s darting across the path about five feet away. But instead of chasing it like he usually does, he just stands there, staring at it with the most intense look on his face.
"Pickle, what the hell are you doing?" Ivy mutters under her breath, trying to pull on the leash.
Pickle doesn’t budge.
I raise an eyebrow. "Your dog is in a standoff with a squirrel."
