Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,17
bit away, trying to look worried as I answered the phone. “Hey, thanks.”
“You know you wouldn't have to do this if you would just get rid of that stupid app.” Bryan sounded both amused and irritated on the other line.
“That's true, but then we wouldn't have these wonderful conversations.” Despite the fact that Bryan and I were having a light-hearted chat, I managed to keep my face looking serious, my brows pinched tight enough I was sure I’d wrinkle early.
“Okay, well, I'm going to duck out now,” I said. “Thanks for the bailout, you’re a lifesaver.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I hung up before Bryan tried to lecture me anymore. Just because he had Mateo now didn't mean he got to forget all the bad decisions he'd made with the app only a year and a half ago.
I walked back to the table and shrugged in apology. “James, I'm so sorry, but it’s an emergency. I have to leave.”
James's eyes narrowed as he looked at me, scanning for signs of the lie. He wouldn’t see any—I was too good. And I did I have to leave before I lost my mind to boredom. But I doubted he was used to people walking away from him, and he wasn’t willing to let me go so easily.
“What kind of an emergency?” he asked.
“I don't know that we know each other well enough for me to divulge all my personal details,” I said, before adding snidely, “besides this is the first time you've asked me about myself this entire evening.”
“If you aren't going to stick around for the entirety of the date,” James said with a trickle of venom in his voice, “then I will send you a Venmo for half of the dinner cost.”
“Go ahead,” I said, making sure to sound as care-free and unconcerned as possible. “That seems fair.”
Ha. I enjoyed the twitch in James's eyes at that. He probably wasn't used to taking out men who could afford a restaurant like this. He'd been hoping to back me into a corner or shame me as punishment for standing him up.
What he didn't know was that he was going to be paying for the full bill and more. Because I'd had enough of his controlling bullshit.
I left the restaurant and didn't bother to call a rideshare. Instead, I took the opportunity to walk the few blocks back to my apartment. The air was crisp and cool, and the dusky purple of the sky couldn't compete with the lights of the city. It smelled like gasoline and fried food and concrete, something I was sure others despised but I found comforting. I loved living in the middle of the city.
My legs had the familiar and welcome burn of exercise, something I tended to not get enough of. I was so caught up in the sights and sounds and relief of my walk that I didn't realize my path was going to take me right by Get Ink’d.
The sign caught my attention first, and then the camera crew moving in and out of the front door held it. Despite knowing that I should keep walking, I found my way to one of the front windows and looked in.
There was no missing Bryce. He was bent over a client, his blond curls pulled back out of his face, a look of intense concentration racing his fine features. His jawline was like a piece of art, sculpted stone that I wanted to run a finger along, just to see if it was as sharp as it looked.
In the shadows and with the distance, I was able to admit that yeah, Bryce was really handsome. Not just generic-handsome, either, but the kind of sunshine beauty that seems to have its own gravity. Sun God meets beach bum. It was like his face was a mirror of his heart, full and honest and welcoming.
Too bad he tended to ruin it as soon as he opened his mouth.
I couldn't see what kind of tattoo he was working on, but I'd looked at plenty of his portfolio online as I’d been running my background check on him. He was a ridiculously talented artist, specializing in traditional Sailor Jerry tattoos. But was most impressive was his ability to mimic other people's styles while adding small changes that made it unique to him.
Something crawled under my skin as I stared. It started as irritation at the base of my spine, but by the time it made its way up to my neck and my scalp,