Page 11 of Things Good Girls Don't Do (Rock Canyon, Idaho 1)

Or just make things worse, sharing my humiliation with a virtual stranger.

But what could be more humiliating than him reading every stupid thing she’d never done and always been too scared to do?

Trying to take her mind off her tender back and said, “I got dumped about eight months ago. We’d been together almost seven years.”

“So why the list now?”

“I just got his wedding invitation in the mail yesterday.”

The bzzzz-ing stopped and Chase slid round on his wheelie stool to look at her face. “Is it the same girl he cheated with?”

“How did you know he . . .”

He waved his hand. “Because he’s an obvious douche bag. Only a giant douche sends his ex-girlfriend a wedding invitation, unless they were friends for a long time before or after. Is that the case?”

Katie smiled for the first time since yesterday. “No, we haven’t talked since he left. And yeah, he was pretty much a douche during our whole relationship. I was just the only one who didn’t notice.”

“Then I’m really glad I shared my whiskey with you. Sounds like you needed something stronger than a sissy girly drink.” He slid back behind her and said, “That’s how it usually is. You don’t see how fucked up a relationship is until you’re out.”

“It wasn’t all bad. We really were happy, most of the time.” She didn’t know why she was defending Jimmy, but the whole situation made her feel stupid. How had she not realized how broken their relationship was? How had she not seen that he had one foot out the door and his boots under someone else’s bed?

Chase interrupted her descent into self-loathing when he said, “Any guy who doesn’t marry you after three years isn’t going to. My mom taught me that.”

She took another gulp of whiskey and it no longer burned, just increased the warm sensation in her tummy. “Gee, I’ve never heard of the three-year rule; please teach it to me.”

“After my dad left, my mom had a lot of boyfriends,” he said loudly over the gun. “Some even lasted longer than three years, but once she brought up the word marriage, they were gone. Then she’d lie in her bed for a week or two, crying, and start all over again. By three years you should know everything there is to know about a person, or close to it. And if you know everything and you still can’t take the leap, then you need to get out.”

“What about love at first sight? Or people who fall in love and get married after six months? Do you really think they’re going to last?” she asked, starting to feel a little tipsy.

“As long as they go into it with their eyes open, knowing the other person’s flaws and loving them anyway, who am I to judge?”

Katie, feeling loose, asked, “What are your flaws?”

“Why? You want to know if I’m your perfect match?” he asked, and Katie could hear the humor in his voice.

She scoffed. “No, I was just curious.” Taking another gulp, she marveled as pain-free warmth spread through her limbs, and prodded, “So what are they?”

More whirring behind her until he finally stopped and said, “I’m stubborn as hell.”

Katie rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see her. “Most people are stubborn.”

“You’re not. You give in to everybody.”

His words stung. If he hadn’t been jabbing a needle in and out of her back, she would have gotten up and let him have it. Instead she snapped, “I do not! I just pick my battles.”

“I’ve been here less than six months and I haven’t seen you really hold your ground on anything.”

She turned her head enough to look over her shoulder and said, “I’ll have you know, I told Mrs. Andrews we were keeping your booth where it was, next to the kissing booth, and that was that.”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Where did she want me moved?”

The angle was hurting her neck, so she turned her head forward again. “She didn’t want you to have one at all. Thinks tattoo parlors bring around a bad element.”

Chase was quiet after that, only the sound of the tattoo gun echoing in the parlor. When the gun finally went silent, she felt him dabbing at her back. “All done.” Handing her a small mirror, he helped her stand up. “Here, can you see it?”

Katie looked at her spanking new tattoo, and part of her was excited and exhilarated that she had done it. But the small, sober part of her brain screamed, What did you do, you idiot?

“Just keep a piece of plastic wrap over it for the next three days until it heals,” he said.

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