Cuffs - Cara Lockwood Page 0,33
me!” she declared, grabbing his arm and taking a hard look at Mags’s artwork. Then she glanced up at the signed CD case she kept by her bedside, a gift Gael had gotten her the first time cancer reared its ugly head and the first time she’d faced surgery.
“Not kidding. It’s real.”
She gently slid her finger over the line of the bird’s beak. The skin was still tender, but her touch didn’t hurt. “It looks exactly the same.” She grabbed the CD and held it up to his arm.
“It should. I had Mags McHenry do it. She did the original cover art.”
Ava glanced up at him, eyes wide. “Seriously?”
“She drew it from memory, too.”
Ava gave a low whistle. “That’s insane.”
“I know. She’s really talented.” Gael couldn’t keep the admiration from his voice. Ava didn’t miss it, either.
“You like her,” she said, instantly picking up on his enthusiasm.
“No,” he lied.
“You do.” Ava dropped his arm and clapped her hands together. “You like Mags McHenry.”
Gael adjusted his Oxford and buttoned it up again, almost regretting ever bringing up the tattoo. A brief memory of exploring the soft skin between Mags’s legs made his groin tighten. He more than liked her. That was a fact. But not one Ava needed to know. The girl was relentless when it came to matching him up. His little sister was dying to see him settled down. She kept saying it was because he needed someone else to father besides her. Someone who was actually a son or daughter.
“It’s about time you liked someone. You haven’t in a long time.” Ava’s smile faded a bit. “You need to do more than just hang out in hospitals, unless you’re going to bang a hot doctor.”
“Would you please stop talking about me banging anyone? You’re my little sister.”
Ava sat up straighter in bed, offended. “Who’s technically six months away from being an adult. And who wants her big brother to have a personal life. All you do is work and fret about me. You should be banging some hot chick. A doctor...or a tattoo artist, or...”
Gael tried to keep his face neutral but felt his left eye twitch. Ava trailed off, studying him. “Wait a second...did you sleep with Mags McHenry already?”
“No.” But Gael felt his eye twitch again. “And you know that these are totally inappropriate questions for a seventeen-year-old to be asking.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she covered it with both hands. Then she laughed and slapped at her knees. “You did!”
“Ava!”
“Gael.” She giggled some more. In that moment, she looked like a middle schooler rather than a senior in high school. “You know you cannot lie to me. I can always tell. Your left eye twitches.”
He rubbed his left eye. “It doesn’t.”
“It does.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re banging somebody.”
“Who’s banging someone?” Maeve poked her head into the room and then trotted in.
“Gael is banging the tattoo artist. Her name is Mags. She’s Asian. And she has a blue streak in her hair. I just looked her up on Instagram.” Ava held up her phone.
Maeve looked at Gael, eyebrows raised. “You’re sleeping with her?”
“That’s none of anybody’s business.”
“So, you’re sleeping with her.” Maeve grinned.
“See? I told you!” Ava cried. “Banging!”
“Would you two stop!” Gael stood and paced a bit. The idea of his sister even knowing about sex at all made him squirm. “And please stop staying banging.”
“Would you rather I say boinking? Knocking boots? Fucking?”
“Language,” Gael and Maeve both said at once.
“Whatever.” Ava rolled her eyes, showing her disdain for the request. “I’m just glad you’re doing something for you. Moping around the hospital all the time isn’t healthy.”
“You’re my responsibility. I’m focused on you right now. That’s all I care about.” He turned and crossed his arms across his chest.
“You need to blow off steam sometimes, you know. It’s okay. You should go have fun. Maeve is here, anyway, until at least midnight. What is Mags doing tonight?”
Gael raised his eyebrows. “What are you trying to do? Get me out of your hair?”
Ava pretended to be shocked. “Who? Little old me?”
“Smartass,” he growled.
“Language!” she and Maeve cried, and then they both laughed. Gael couldn’t help but join in. “So, when are you seeing her again?” she asked him.
Gael remembered the not-so-friendly note she’d left. And how she’d sneaked out of her own apartment.
“She’s got to finish the tattoo,” he said.
“That’s the perfect opportunity for you to make your move!”
“What do you know about moves? And I’m focused on you. Your surgery