Page 121 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“In return for answering your questions?” He cocks his head to the side and thinks about it for a second, the lightpost casting shadows along his chiseled face. “Yeah. It’s exactly what I want.”

“You’re joking.”

“And you’re dying to know what piece I submitted.”

Gaze narrowing, I cross my arms. “Is it juicy?”

“The piece?”

“Yes.”

His dimples flicker across his face. “Maybe.”

“And do you already have a tattoo in mind?” I prod.

With a smirk, he looks me up and down. “Yes. Do we have a deal?”

“Fine. What is it?”

“A painting.”

“And?” I press.

“And it’s pretty good.”

“Milo!” I smack his shoulder. “Come on.”

Laughing, he rubs the sore spot on his arm. “Ouch, Mads. Control your temper, will ya?”

“Miloooo,” I drag out his name.

“It’s…hands.”

“Hands?”

“Yeah.”

My eyebrows pinch. “What do you mean, hands?”

“You asked me to tell you what it was.”

“Well, yeah. But you gotta give me more thanhands,” I argue.

He shrugs one shoulder and pulls into Etch 'N Ink’s parking lot. “Sorry, Mads. You didn’t ask me to be specific.”

“You’re an ass, you know.”

Another laugh escapes him. “Yeah, I know.”

Without another word, he gets Penny and her car seat, rounds the back of the car, and opens my door where I’m still sitting, stunned, in the front seat.

“Come on, Beautiful. Let’s go get some ink.”

Lips pursed, I follow Milo inside, more amused than annoyed by his elusive description of the art piece.

When he pulls the front door open, Jos is saying goodbye to the final customer of the night. The rest of the giant room is empty.

“Have a good one, man,” Milo tells the customer as he holds open the door for him.

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