quieted, not as many cars or people weaving their way through the congested city. As I stared out, I wondered what Presley was doing right that moment. Did she live close? Or did she drive in to the city? How old was she? The article said she’d started tattooing at eighteen and had been doing it professionally for seven years. Did that mean she was twenty-five? Or was there training involved?
Surely there was training. Yeah, I got that the artistic ability had to be there, but…
I turned back around and went to my office, leaning down to peer at the screen.
Different by Design.
I highlighted the link, then did a Google search.
Hmm. Just down the road from me.
Maybe it was time for me to get another tattoo.
Well, not tonight, of course. I was too damn tired for that. Not to mention, I’d have to give some thought as to what I wanted. I had a few tats already, like the backpiece that had taken me nearly a year to have completed due to the intricate detail, as well as the sleeve on my left arm.
At least it was something to think about.
And more importantly, now I knew I would definitely have the opportunity to see Presley Abrams again.
“All right, Cat. Time to call it a night,” I called out as I flipped off the lights in my office, glancing once more at the notebook on my desk before the room went dark. “We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”
Chapter Seventeen
Presley
Lying on my bed, I stared out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars in the sky above. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done in the city thanks to the air pollution, which meant my nighttime view wasn’t as great as the Realtor had promised it would be.
Not that there was anything I could do about that now.
I’d been lying here for at least an hour, doing my best to sleep, but to no avail. I was pretty sure I’d nodded off once, maybe twice, but had woken when I heard the front door open, slamming into the wall.
My first clue that Gil was home had been the not-so-sexy squeal from the unknown woman who was accompanying him. I couldn’t even count how many different versions of, “Oh, Gil,” I had heard over the two years that I’d lived with him.
I cringed, rolling my eyes and mouthing the words the woman had moaned only minutes ago. “Oh, Gil, yes. Keep doing that.”
Why hadn’t I thought to get a condo that was sound-proofed? This was fucking ridiculous. Listening to Gil get his freak on with random women night after night… Not cool at all. I should’ve paid closer attention to that upon inspecting this place.
“Oh, yeah,” the woman moaned, and I realized they’d made it to Gil’s room.
For sure I should’ve at least found a place that had a master bedroom that didn’t share a wall with the second bedroom.
I rolled my eyes when Gil’s headboard hit said wall.
Maybe I could convince Gil and Gavin to switch rooms.
Rolling over, I grabbed my pillow and covered my head.
“Ah, yes!”
“You’re a screamer, aren’t you, baby?” Gil asked her, his words muffled.
Lord, don’t encourage her, you dumb ass.
The headboard continued to knock against the wall and I pretended not to hear it.
Well, I tried to, anyway.
Reaching over, I grabbed my headphones, shoved them in my ears, flipped on my music, then replaced the pillow.
“Oh, Gil! Keep doing that!”
I rolled my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Again.
Turning up the music and closing my eyes, I let my thoughts drift to Jacob Wild.
Tonight, while Gavin had been working away, I had spent some time doing a little research on Jake. Not because I intended to see him again—even if he was my neighbor—but because he’d piqued my curiosity. Especially with his journal. I figured for sure most writers these days used a computer. Apparently that wasn’t always the case. From there, I’d wanted to know what made a famous writer tick.
It looked as though the infamous bad boy author had gone on hiatus for at least a year, causing an influx of wonder and fear from the readers who sang his praises, worshipped at the shrine that was Jacob Wild, crowned king of dirty talk.
From what I could tell, Jake had a huge personal fan base—something like two and a half million Facebook followers, close to a million Twitter followers, and an actual fan club. Seriously. Another thing I noticed was that a lot of