Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,75

massive joke on me.

Where was the candid camera?

But despite my misgivings and the sheer ludicrousness of their suggestion, was I going to do it for Aiden?

Hell, yes, I was.

22

Aiden

I should be having the time of my life. I’d managed to get several of my comics autographed by my favorite writers and artists. The panels were interesting and well moderated. And the costumes?

They were out of this world.

And yet I found myself slumping through the hotel hosting the convention. I struggled to enjoy things and a few times I’d been forced to run to the bathroom and wipe tears from my eyes before anyone saw them.

I was supposed to be experiencing this with Bryce.

Sitting near the lobby where a lot of cosplayers and groups were congregating, I checked my phone again. My thumb hovered above the keypad, wanting to reply to Bryce. I knew I should talk to him. I was angry and I was hurt, but I also knew I’d been wallowing, and that what had gone down between us really wasn’t the end of the world as it had felt like in the moment.

Poor Bryan probably thought I was going to lock myself in my apartment for the rest of time. Which had been a tempting option at first. But Bryce...I missed him. He’d been hurting and he’d been mean and that wasn’t okay. But how many times had I used claws to keep others away instead of cuddles? If anyone could understand, it was me.

Before I could let myself wallow some more, I noticed an expectant rustling through the groups of people around me. Giggles and hushed squeals of excitement. Pulling myself out of my pity party, I looked for what was causing the ruckus. Hopefully a badass costume to lift my spirits.

And holy shit, it was. Moving across the lobby was a figure who towered over most of the other convention attendees.

Long, blond hair fell in waves around a golden-stubbled jaw. My mouth went dry at the bright blues scanning the crowd. A red cape fell from leather spaulders. The chest piece clung to a well-muscled torso. A hammer swung from one hand.

It was Thor, my absolute favorite.

And then—holy shit—I realized it was Bryce, and my heart seized in wonder.

He spotted me in the same moment, and the smile came out, so brilliant I heard several people near me sigh. Hell, I was close to joining them. Bryce walked over to me, a question on his face. He waited a foot away from me, eyes pleading.

When I didn’t say anything, Bryce groaned. “Ugh. I should have prepared something to say. I was relying too heavily on the costume, you know?”

“Always have a backup plan,” I said before I could stop myself.

His cheeks bloomed pink. “Um...want to be the Loki to my Thor?”

“Gross!” I made a face like I was going to barf. “You know they’re brothers, right?”

Blanching, Bryce hid his eyes behind his hand. “I am completely bombing this.”

There was the obvious itch of a bunch of eyes watching us.

“You’re not,” I managed, my voice threatening to crack. “This is...this is amazing. What are you doing here?”

“Ah.” Bryce pulled his shoulders back again and, in the absolute worst impression of Chris Hemsworth’s Thor, started monologuing. “I was wrong and a fool to act as I did. I was shortsighted and selfish and said many unkind and untrue things.”

Oof, I was so embarrassed for him. The kind thing to do would be to stop him. But I was enjoying his terrible, wonderful attempt way too much to do that.

He grabbed my hand and pressed it against the leather-armor over his heart. “A good Asgardian would have put his love’s interest before his own. The first thing I should’ve said was how proud I am of you. You’re wicked smart and a genius at the keyboard. You’re going to do amazing things with the FBI.”

Now I wished I’d stopped him before he made me cry in front of a room filled with nerds. I mean, they were my kind of nerds, but I was in danger of dissolving into tears, and no one needed to see that. My throat ached and I blinked hard.

“Thank you,” I said, speaking past a lump in my throat. “I needed to hear that.”

He nodded. He looked so much like Thor that my heart was pounding. He was Bryce, my Bryce, and my soul was burning with the need to be closer to him.

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need,” he said.