Inked: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World), стр. 26
A few doors down there’s a bar. The temptation to go and get a drink to give me a little courage is strong. That’s exactly what the old me would have done.
I tell myself that I’m stronger, that all I’m going to do is go in and ask about the possibility of getting an appointment.
As I get closer, a pink Open sign glows, putting an end to any chance I had of not being able to go inside.
Sucking in a huge breath, I push the heavy door open. A bell chimes, alerting whoever is here that I’ve joined them.
As nerves assault me, I glance around the space. There are huge black couches in the center of the room with an elaborate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the light casting unique shadows around the walls that are covered in ink designs. But they’re not like the ones I’ve seen before. There are no simple love hearts, or images of Tigger. It’s artwork. I take a step toward one of the walls, my eyes not knowing which bit to focus on first as a heavy pair of footsteps approaches me.
When I turn around, I find a middle-aged man with close-cropped hair and quite possibly the biggest beard I’ve ever seen.
“Afternoon, how can I help you?” There’s something in his voice that relaxes me immediately.
“Um… I’d like to see about getting a tattoo.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” He winks at me, and the twinkle in his eye makes me smile.
“I’ve got a little time now if you’d like to discuss your plans.”
I start to believe that I can do this, that he’ll be able to keep me relaxed enough to go through with something I’ve spent years dreaming about.
But then everything changes.
“Don’t even think about taking her back to your room, Sledge.” I can’t see him, but that doesn’t mean that my body doesn’t immediately know who the voice belongs to.
I back away from the desk, my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest.
Of all the fucking places for him to be. Why does it have to be here?
Just when I thought I was going to take control of just a small part of my life, there he is turning it upside down again.
Sledge’s chin drops as I move toward the door, but the second Corey steps out from the shadows, my body freezes.
“I’ve got this.”
Sledge looks between the two of us, concern written all over his face, and for a moment, he refuses to move.
“Sledge,” Corey barks, effectively forcing him to leave. “Well, well, well, look who it is.”
Dread fills my stomach, thinking that he’s angry with me for leaving like I did. I don’t know why I care, and that pisses me off more than anything.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
“What? No, that’s not what…” He rounds the desk, his eyes running the length of my body. I can read his thoughts as if they’re my own. He’s imagining last night.
Fuck. This was a massive fucking mistake.
“I… I…” I stutter, wishing I was closer to the door so I could escape.
Sadly, Corey has other ideas.
“I think we should go and discuss that tattoo you want.”
“N-No, it’s okay. I just stopped in on a whim aaaand—” I squeal as his fingers wrap around my wrist and he pulls me into him.
He stares at me for a beat before his head moves closer. For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he moves to the side so his lips brush my ear.
“I’m not letting you run so easily this time, Vixen.”
I try to swallow, but there’s something clogging my throat.
“Come on.” He doesn’t allow me to argue. Instead he tugs me toward his room. I’ve no choice but to follow.
He shuts the door behind him, and I find myself in almost an identical room to the reception, only instead of a couch there’s a tattoo chair. Artwork still covers the walls, and in my need to look away from him, to break what’s crackling between us, I focus on it.
My eyes flick over the incredible work before landing on something very familiar. I remember tracing this heart engulfed in flames last night. It’s on his chest. I reach out to run my finger over it, but his words stop me.
“I thought I was going to have to work harder to find you again. You really are making it easy for me.”
“I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Really?” he asks, his voice accusatory, making me turn to look at him.
His eyes are wide with suspicion, but they’re also full of heat. As he stares at me, he’s remembering everything that happened between us last night. I can almost see it playing out in his mind.
My cheeks flush, my temperature soaring, but that’s not the most noticeable thing. That’s the desire that races through me, begging me to give him another shot.
My hands tremble as my head and body war over what I should do. My head says leave, but my legs refuse, and I stay exactly where I am.
“W-why would I know you were here?” I ask, confused. Clearly last night’s whisky is still having an effect, because it should be obvious, really.
“My job isn’t a secret, Harlow. Most people here know what I do.”
The image of Bailey so helpfully giving me this address pops into my mind.
She fucking knew.
“I’ve been set up, haven’t I?”
“I’ve no idea, Vixen. But I’m glad to see you.”
“Really? Why?”
He takes a step toward me and doesn’t stop until I bump up against the wall and he’s right in my personal space. His woodsy scent fills my nose, and the heat from his wide chest burns into me.
“Because we have unfinished business.”
“D-do we?”