Page 66 of Brittle Heart

“Ready?” I ask, but his gaze is locked on Carolina.

“Hey,” she greets, giving him a smile.

It’s not genuine, more like a courteous customer service façade.

“Hey there,” he replies, resting his elbows on the counter and bending toward her. “And who are you, shorty?”

His tone is a bit too flirty for my taste, so I give him a slap on the bicep. “Definitely not your next lay. Let’s go. We don’t have all day.”

He chuckles and gives her a wink before following me to the back.

We make some small talk before I start the tattoo, and a few minutes in, the phone rings.

“Darkened Dermis, Carolina speaking, how can I help you?”

I smile to myself. My usual response is a simple “Hello,” but I guess that works too.

I eavesdrop on her side of the conversation, and she’s handling it like a pro.

About twenty minutes later, some people walk in looking for an appointment, and Carolina manages it all smoothly. She’s friendlier than I’ve ever seen her. With her in control, I can finally tune out the distractions and focus on the tattoo.

* * *

Hours must have passed, given how my neck feels.

I’ve lost track of time, lost in my work. Setting the tattoo gun aside to stretch and crack my neck, I stand, needing a break.

“Here, you should hydrate,” Carolina says, handing me a water bottle from the refrigerator in my office.

“Your little helper is a godsend, Xander. I need a break,” Jonah says.

“Sure,” I mutter as he gets up to use the restroom, already familiar with the place from previous tattoos.

“This is looking good,” Carolina says, looking at Jonah’s retreating back.

I glance at the clock. It’s already two, and now that I’m out of the zone, I realize how hungry I am.

“Would you mind grabbing us some subs from the place two doors down? You can use the cash in the register,” I ask her as Jonah returns.

“Jonah, what kind of sub?” I ask him.

“Cheese, please.”

“All right, two cheese subs and whatever you want. Thanks,” I tell her.

She nods and grabs her jacket on the way out.

As she leaves, I find my gaze following her perfect round ass. When I look up, I see Jonah doing the same.

“Off-limits,” I warn him, knowing he’s a fucking player.

“Oh, come on, you tapping that?” he asks.

“I’m not, but she’s still off-limits.” I grunt.

“So, youwantto tap that,” he teases.

Sure, I do, but that’s not the point. “No, she’s a friend,” I say, getting agitated.

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