“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Simon shook his head. “Half the time I can’t understand a f**king thing coming out of your mouth.”
Tony grinned wickedly at him. “It has its uses, though, yes?”
While his boyfriend threw his head back in laughter, Rae yelled, “No! No, no! No sex talk tonight.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She frowned. “Really, what?”
“You have a problem with them discussing their sex life. You,” I emphasized. “The squealer?”
Simon, Tony, and Cole burst out laughing. I hadn’t even realized Cole was listening to our conversation. Rae fought a grin as she stared at me.
Tony raised his glass to me. “I knew we were going to get along.”
Rae pretended to huff but then stood up. “My round.” She pointed at me. “Use those f**king earplugs.”
“They only muffle the squealing.”
This set the boys off again.
She shook her head at me, eyes glittering with amusement. “I guess I can try to be quieter.”
I smiled. “That would be appreciated.”
“You’re lucky you’re f**king cute,” she said, and strode off to get us more drinks.
“Told you you could handle her,” Cole said.
I threw a tight smile in his direction, successfully avoiding his eyes.
The guys and Rae pulled me into hilarious conversation, each little tidbit from Tony proving that despite his intimidating sense of confidence and style, he was down-to-earth. But I was hyperaware of Cole. He was just that guy—he exuded charisma. There was this aura about him and I imagined I was not alone in being drawn in by it.
I did my best to fight it, though, winning the battle every time I looked over and saw him flirting with Tamara. Player. Player. Player, I reminded myself.
After a few drinks and lots of conversation, I excused myself to use the ladies’. The bar was near closing and many of its customers had cleared out. Glad there was no line into the ladies’, I took my time, and as I washed my hands I stared into the mirror above the sink. I looked less tired, less stressed. The pinched, tight lines around the corners of my mouth had disappeared. My hair tumbled down my back in thick waves and ringlets, and my violet eyes were bright with alcohol. I wasn’t drunk, but I was definitely tipsy. That mixed with the good company meant I was in the best mood I’d been in in forever.
That mood plummeted as soon as I stepped out of the ladies’ and was confronted by Cole coming out of the men’s.
Before I could say a word, he came at me, crowding me against the wall as he had crowded me against the reception desk the other day. He put his hands on the wall just above my head, his eyes searing down into me. “Tamara is just a friend.”
I jerked my head back in surprise, whacking it on the wall. “And I would care why?”
This close I could see the frown lines between his eyebrows and the hint of darkness in his beautiful green eyes, a gloom that not even the mesmerizing flecks of gold striations around the edges of his irises could counter. “You’ve been quiet with me, Shortcake.”
I tensed against the wall. “I’ve been talking to Simon and Tony. And Shortcake?”
“Mmm. I’m a fan of strawberry shortcake. You remind me of it.”
“I remind you of strawberry shortcake?” I asked, completely befuddled.
“Sweet strawberries, whipped cream, and sugary biscuit. That’s definitely you.” He frowned now. “You’re telling me you’re not icing me out because of Tamara.”
“Why would I?”
He leaned closer and I sucked in my breath as his citrusy cologne hit me in delightful waves. “Because of what’s between us.”
Trembling now, I whispered, “There’s nothing between us.”
The gloom disappeared from Cole’s eyes and the gold seemed to flare as heat entered them. “Nothing but a shitload of chemistry I’ve wanted to explore since we first met. And you can stop pretending you don’t remember that because I know you do.”
Feeling the heat flood into me, I became desperate to get away from him. I reached up and pushed my hands against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. I was tiny as it was. Next to Cole I was an ineffectual . . . wee fairy. I glowered at him. “You should know I find arrogance a real turnoff.”
Cole leaned forward and his lips whispered across my cheek before resting against my ear. “Bullshit.”
A shiver rippled down my spine at his hot breath on my skin, and my ni**les tightened. My chest rose and fell as I lost control of my breathing—the air between us felt much, much too thick.
Cole pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, and whatever he saw there made him turn liquid with triumph. I’d never felt an attraction so powerful before, and although there was a mini version of me screaming from the back of my brain to get the hell out of there, I ignored it. Later I would blame the alcohol for just standing there as Cole leaned down to meet my lips with his.
I waited, breathless with anticipation—
“There you are!”
I slammed back against the wall, the moment ruined. Cole squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched with obvious annoyance. He took a few seconds to gather himself. When he opened his eyes the annoyance was gone, but something else was there. It felt like he was trying to send me a silent message.
Pretending indifference, I stared up at him blankly, only managing to breathe properly when he spun around to speak to Tamara.
I didn’t like her.
But my God, I was grateful she’d interrupted us.
That was it. There would be no more overimbibing when Cole Walker was in the vicinity.
CHAPTER 4
W orking a weekend at INKarnate proved to be manic. The studio was abuzz with noise from the needles, music, and conversation. It was a constant flow of people, and the guys took a shorter lunch break to keep up with their appointments. I thought Sunday might be slightly quieter, but it was one of Simon’s days off, so it worked out to be just as busy, if not more so.
It made avoiding Cole extremely easy, however, and he never got a chance to bring up the charged moment between us at the Voodoo Rooms.
For some reason Monday was busy too, so despite the fact that a busy studio meant a far-too-busy-to-flirt-with-me Cole, I was somewhat relieved when I walked into work on Tuesday morning to a quiet environment. I started up where I’d left off on the digitizing of the files.
Half an hour later the door opened and a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than me, walked slowly over to my desk. I tensed at the darkness behind her eyes and her pale face. “Larissa Jones,” she said, her voice extremely quiet. “I have an appointment for a tattoo removal.”
I checked the appointment book, confirmed it, and disappeared into the back to Rae’s room where she was setting up to let her know her first appointment had arrived. When I returned to tell Larissa that Rae would be five minutes, I was surprised to find the girl sitting in the waiting area crying into her hands.
Alarmed, I hurried to retrieve the tissue box on my desk and made my way over to her. I sat down beside her. “Are you all right?”
She sobbed and lifted her tearstained face to mine. She shook her head. I understood the pain that was etched into her every feature and I felt my heart clench in compassion. Shuffling closer, I slid a comforting arm around her shoulders and held the tissues to her.
“Bad breakup?” I guessed as she took one.
Larissa sucked in a huge breath. “Yes.” Her lips trembled. “It’s his name I’m getting removed.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured softly, rubbing her back.
“He was a shit,” she cried. “I know that. I do. But . . .” She wiped at her face.
“Hey.” I tugged on her hand, and she leaned into my comfort. “I understand. You’re allowed to be sad. You are. But just know . . . no regrets, yeah? You’re doing the right thing. This is a fresh start. A new beginning for you.”
Meeting my eyes, Larissa gave me a tremulous smile. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?”
I snapped my head up, surprised to see Cole there. I hadn’t even heard him approach. His green eyes were on the girl and me. Concern wrinkled his brow.
“Yes.” Larissa nodded, looking embarrassed. “Had a bit of a meltdown.” She smiled sheepishly at me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I reassured her. She should have had a friend come along and help her through this, I thought, sad for her.
“What’s all this, then?” Rae strode toward us. As soon as she saw Larissa’s tear-streaked face, she rounded the coffee table, gently took her hand, and guided her out of her seat. “I’m Rae. Come on, honey, let’s get a start on removing that f**ker’s tattoo from your skin. You’ll feel all better soon.”
I watched my flatmate lead the girl into the back rooms and couldn’t help my smile. I was coming to learn that beneath the bluster and bravado, Rae was a big perceptive softie.
Suddenly the air changed.
I sucked in a breath, feeling Cole’s gaze burning into me.
Not wanting to but needing to nonetheless, I looked at him. I sucked in another breath.
He was staring at me with what appeared to be tenderness.
I didn’t like it. Nope. I really didn’t.
“What?” I said, my tone impatient.
His answer was to give me a small smile, walk casually over to me, place a kiss on my forehead, and then walk away.
My skin tingled where his lips had touched me.
“What the heck?” I muttered.
* * *
That night I had the pleasure of meeting Rae’s boyfriend, Mike, for the first time. At first it wasn’t a pleasure. At first I was a little mortified as Rae introduced him, because all I could think was that I knew the noises this guy made during sex.
Once I worked my way through the embarrassment, I was a little surprised by Mike. For some reason, I’d expected this superedgy, gruff guy with a personality to match or outmatch Rae’s. Mike wasn’t anything like that. He was tall, leanly built, had a nice face, kind dark eyes, and short blond hair. From the band on his T-shirt and from what Rae had told me, Mike liked the same music as his girlfriend. But that seemed to be where the similarities ended.
“We were feeling a bit frisky, shall we say?” Rae continued, telling me a story about the second gig she and Mike had attended together. From the moment we’d sat down in the sitting room to have a beer, Rae had done all the talking for Mike and he seemed okay with that. “So I suggested the ladies’ toilets and lo and behold, the place was empty. I dragged Mike in there, locked the main door, and we started going at it against the tiled walls.” She grinned at her boyfriend and he gave her a small smile, not at all put out that she was divulging details of their sex life. It occurred to me that perhaps this was because it wasn’t the first time she had done so in company.
I waited, not sure what my reply was supposed to be. I’d never had sex in a public place. In all honesty I’d never wanted to. My ex had tried to coerce me into ha**ng s*x with him once in an alley in Glasgow City Center and had been more than pissed off when I told him to take a run and jump off the nearest bridge.
“She thought she’d locked the door,” Mike suddenly murmured, his lips twitching with amusement.
I gasped. “No.”
Rae laughed. “Yup. There we were, my knickers off, skirt around the waist, Mike’s jeans around his ankles as we did it against a cold wall, and all of a sudden we heard, ‘I’m not sure that’s very hygienic, sweetheart.’ We turned and this old lady, with long, hippy-length gray hair—cool-as-fuck old biddy—is standing in the door holding out a cloth handkerchief. ‘You might want to give those tiles a wee clean before you continue,’ she says.”
I laughed. “What did you do?”
Rae’s eyes sparkled at the memory. “Mike took the hanky and I said, ‘I want to be you when I’m older.’ And she replied, ‘Well, you’re going the right way about it.’” Rae chuckled. “Seriously. My freaking heroine.”
“She sounds like a character.”
Rae nodded and then launched into her next story. Although Mike was rarely given a chance to speak, and it appeared Rae could be quite bossy with him, I deduced that from what I could see so far, their relationship was quite balanced. When Mike got up to get himself another beer, Rae shooed him back down in his seat. She stroked his cheek tenderly. “You’ve been working such long hours, baby. I’ll get it for you.”
Every day I discovered new facets to Rae’s personality, and although she could be abrasive and she used the F-word way too much, I was nonetheless charmed by her. For the longest time I’d been surrounded by people who were either negative or fake. With Rae, what you saw you got—and although she teased people often, I knew that it never came from a mean place unless that person was not very nice.
In only a week of acquaintance I knew where I stood with Rae, and I was coming to learn that that was worth its weight in gold.
While Rae got the beers, Mike smiled at me. “How are you and Rae getting on?”
“Good.”
“I know she can be a bit . . . well, everything, but she’s a really good person.”
I smiled reassuringly. “I’m getting that.”
“Talking about me?” Rae sauntered back into the room. “Are you discussing my absolute fabulousness, darlings?” she asked, imitating Tony and doing it so well, I couldn’t help giggling.
“Something like that.” Mike smiled indulgently at her.