confused him, or worse, that was unwanted.
He placed Freyja on the floor and, apparently satisfied with her daily Shadow fix, she shook out her fur and walked off with her tail high.
“I didn’t have a single drink yesterday,” I told him with a playful tilt of my head. “I hope you’re proud.”
He nodded, but otherwise didn’t tease back like he did at our last session. “Ready?” he asked me with a shy glance.
“Yep.” I forced a smile, shoved down the feeling of rejection, and scooted my chair closer. The heat from his large body seemed to engulf me even though I was still a couple of feet away. Or maybe that was the battery for his tattoo machine.
“I, um, came up with a few more background ideas, if you’d like to see.”
He seemed nervous today, and I wondered if something happened. Did he accidentally say or do something that Jandro had to correct?
I waited until his gaze met mine and gave him my best reassuring smile. “Hell yes, I do. I always want to see your ideas.”
His shoulders softened a little and he opened up his sketchbook to a spread showing variations of my Rod of Asceplius piece.
“Oh, wow.” I scooted closer and leaned over until I was sitting right alongside him. My eyes bounced all over the pages. “I don’t know what to choose.”
“You don’t have to choose any,” Shadow murmured softly. “We can always fill the background in later—um, fuck!”
“What?” I snapped my gaze to look at him, brow pinched and jaw clenched. “Something wrong?”
“No, sorry. I, um…” He sat back, rubbing his forehead and teeth grinding in obvious distress. After a quick breath, his eyes flashed open, focusing on me for the first time that day. “If that’s what you want. Getting the background filled in later, I mean. Only if you want to get tattooed by me again later.”
“I mean, I can probably decide today after a minute to think.” I watched his body language with curiosity. He seemed conflicted about something. “But I definitely want to get tattooed by you again. Why wouldn’t I?” I smiled again, it seemed to make him feel better. “You’re my favorite artist.”
“I’m your only artist so far. You do have other options, you know.”
“Why would I go to anyone else? I like you.”
Three simple words that didn’t hold nearly as much power as I love you, but in this context they felt heavily weighted all the same. My heart sped up and I wondered if Shadow picked up on the multiple meanings of those words. I liked his art, and I liked him.
“This doesn’t bother you?” he asked. “Spending so much time with me?”
The question made me lean back in shock. “Of course not, Shadow. Why—” I stopped myself from demanding an explanation from him, reminding myself how outcast he’d been all his life, and still was.
He wasn’t used to people spending extended time around him, and didn’t need to explain his feelings of otherness to me. I realized he needed to unlearn what he’d always known and start at a new baseline—having a friend who simply enjoyed spending time with him.
“I like just sitting with you. Talking to you,” I said. “I love the tattoos, but honestly, I’d sit and chat with you while doing nothing.”
“You would?”
“Yeah. We can just have coffee and let Freyja climb all over you. We can talk about books, the weather, whatever we want.”
“What would your men think about that?”
I crossed one knee over the other, folding my hands in my lap. “I think they respect me enough to let me talk to, and form friendships with, whoever I damn well please.”
The color deepened in his cheeks. “I just don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Or put strain on your relationships with them because of…”
What we did.
His words trailed off, but I knew exactly what he referred to. My cross-legged position tightened at the memory of him filling and stretching me, the way he watched me as if hypnotized, but otherwise never touched me.
Heat flooded my skin, bringing a rush of sensitivity to the surface. My pulse pounded in my lips, gaze falling to the large hands still wrapped around his tattoo machine.
“See, I’ve made you uncomfortable already,” he said, his voice pained.
“No,” I said in a rush of breath, my throat tightening. “You haven’t. I…” I raked my hand back through my hair, for a moment wondering how truly inappropriate it would be to run over to Reaper, get his approval, then