Stripped Love (Guys Next Door #1) - Baylin Crow Page 0,60
about getting a piercing! Again!"
My uncle's chair rolled back from behind the wall, gloves on and holding the equipment. His gaze flicked between us and he smirked. "How about a tattoo? We could always do a little gear piece to match your boyfriend’s. Or maybe a swallow to match the ones I did on his arms?"
My lips flattened. "I'm really not sure why I thought you'd help. Forget it." He chuckled before he disappeared behind the wall. I pointed at Dylan, whose dark blue eyes danced with amusement. "You, stop trying to find a reason to stab me."
He rolled his eyes. "I can't believe Isaac told you that shit. I don't get off of stabbing people. I just like it a little."
Truthfully, Dylan spent the majority of his time holding a tattoo machine, but he did seem to get a sick thrill from sticking metal through any body part asked of him.
I sighed, and he winked before strolling away, whistling a song conveniently titled Pain.
Dylan loved giving me a hard time in an attempt to ruffle my feathers.
With nothing left to keep me busy, my thoughts turned to Phoenix. The date he'd taken me on had been amazing, even if it hadn't sparked the inspiration intended for my book. He couldn't have chosen anything more perfect. I'd accidentally smiled enough times over the last two days to earn knowing looks from my uncle and the guys at work. They'd been brought up to speed on my relationship with Phoenix because my uncle had a big mouth.
Boyfriend. My lips hooked up on one side. I really liked the way it sounded.
As I often did when thinking about Phoenix, I fished one of the folded pieces of paper I carried everywhere from my pocket. At some point I'd have to break the new habit because the stack was growing thick.
The words that filled the sheet were written last night after he'd made me come twice and then held me. The lyrics told our story up to that point and tugged at my heart.
With no one watching, I smoothed the creased paper over the counter and read it—maybe for the fiftieth time—even though I had the entire song memorized already. But I liked seeing them in his scratchy, cursive handwriting.
"What's that?" Dylan's voice startled me, and I jerked upright. I scrambled for the paper, but it was in his hands before I could put it away.
"Give it back," I demanded and popped my hands on my hips. "Why are you always so nosy?"
Instead of listening to me, he turned his back, dodging my attempts to retrieve it. He began reading out loud, laughter in his voice, but trailed off after the first verse, finishing silently.
"What is this?" he finally asked with a curious expression as he held the song over my head. "I wouldn't have pegged Phoenix as a poet. But this is actually really good."
"It's not poetry. Well, I guess it sort of is." I jumped to grab it, but he only lifted it higher out of my reach. "But that was private, Dylan. Give it back."
"Tell me what it is and I will." He continued to hold the page hostage.
My shoulders tensed and I swiped my hair away from my forehead. The idea of telling Dylan pricked at my conscience as if I was betraying Phoenix. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but it was too late now. I wanted my song back in my pocket where it belonged. "It's lyrics, okay?"
"Wait? Phoenix is a songwriter?" His brows lifted. "Interesting. Why doesn't he submit his stuff? This"—he shook the page—"is the kind of shit that makes it in that business."
"He tried for a while, but things happened." I shrugged as I recalled the conversation about Phoenix's mom. There were some things Dylan couldn't pry out of me, even with his impressively annoying persistence.
He hummed as he lowered his arm, and his gaze skimmed the page again. "I know someone that might be interested in taking a look at this. It would be a long shot…but who knows."
Just before I darted forward to seize my property back, his words penetrated my frustration. I froze. "What do you mean?"
"You know we have high profile clients. You've met some of them. But one of my guys is sort of a big deal," he bragged and flashed a cocky grin.
Curious, I tilted my head. "Who?"
"Have you heard of Drake Avery?" When I only blinked, he sighed. "Courting Echoes?"