Page 29 of Brittle Heart

My head turns so fast in her direction. “What do you mean?”

“You smiled at me earlier too. It’s not him. It’s the day. Today is not a good day for your resting bitch face,” she says.

I huff. “I don’t have a resting bitch face. I’m just a bitch that needs some rest,” I snark, starting to massage my temple but wincing as I touch the cut.

I had forgotten about it.

Clay looks at me critically while Josh chuckles. “I can’t even tell if you’re trying to be funny or not.” I shoot him a glare. “Maybe not,” he grins.

“Do you need to get that checked?” Clay asks, pointing at my temple.

“Not that again, Clay. It’s nothing. Let it go.” I sigh.

“You have a headache and a cut. If the cut comes from a hit on your head, it could be a mild concussion,” he ponders.

“You wouldn’t know the difference between a headache and an idea.” I huff, hoping to deflect his watchful stare.

“Ready to go eat?” Josh asks Sophia, effectively defusing our bickering. But when she nods, he turns his gaze back to me, raising an eyebrow.

“Can’t. I have—” I begin before being interrupted.

“Another hot date today? By the way, how was the one yesterday?” Clay asks, looking amused. “You still owe me all the tea.”

“Yes, another hot date. And the one yesterday ended with him in bed, so I’d say it worked out exactly as planned,” I quip, my tone dry.

Clay’s eyes widen in surprise. “Damn, I don’t know if you’re fucking with me.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” I say. I swiftly pack my backpack and stand. “I have to go to make it in time.”

“Have a nice weekend,” Sophia says.

* * *

The door dings as I enter Darkened Dermis, and my pulse races. Xander stands behind the register, bent over his tablet, looking like the Viking god he is. He’s dressed in all black, but this time, there is no beanie, and I can see his long, dark blond hair swiped up into a man bun.

My breath catches when he looks up, and his gray eyes meet mine. “Hey, Carolina. Good to see you,” he says, straightening and emphasizing our dramatic height difference.

“Hey,” I say, trying to contain the nerves threatening to shake me.

He hands his tablet to me and says, “Please fill out this form real quick before we get started.”

I do so, the task helping me calm down a bit. By the time I’m done, my hand is less shaky than when I started.

“Ready?” he asks when I hand the tablet back to him, and I nod.

He gestures for me to come around the register and leads me to the back, where the tattoo stool is located. On a short metal table, various sizes of stencils of my tattoo design are laid out.

I look them over, then back up at Xander, my eyes wide. “Oh my God,” I say, looking back down again. “It’s amazing. Wow.”

“Happy you like it. Let me see which size fits best,” he says, and I pull up my sleeve, baring my forearm. He holds the different sizes against the designated spot before deciding on one.

Xander puts the design just below the fold of my arm. “That will look pretty good,” he remarks as he removes the paper. “Take a look in the mirror. I think the placement is perfect, but we can adjust it if you disagree.”

I stand in front of the mirror and examine my arm. It’s exactly how I imagined it, and I nod. “It’s perfect.”

He points to the tattoo chair, and I sit, struggling a bit because it’s so high.

He prepares the black ink and the tattoo needle. “Your first tattoo?” I nod. “It’s interesting. I’ve tattooed a few of these before, but never with this wording.”

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