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 fucker’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.
* * *