Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,25

was heavy in my hand. He was seeing someone. Channing was seeing someone. All the flirtatious glances he’d tossed my way the last couple weeks and his casual teasing had me hiding away in my office, willing my boners away like I was a teen again and repeating to myself the mantra of can’t have.

Because I wanted to protect Channing from the kind of destruction a relationship with a much older man could create. Yet here he was, dating. My mouth soured. Not just dating, but seeing someone who clearly had the money to send something like a fucking Rolex to a kid on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m getting out there a bit,” Channing said, sounding for all the world like we were talking baseball instead of boyfriends. “He’s a really nice guy. A lawyer downtown.”

My hackles rose at that. Worse, I wasn’t just feeling protective, but also possessive. How dare whoever this fucking guy was buy Channing this kind of gift? When he didn’t know Channing like I did?

Even though I didn’t have any claim on him whatsoever.

“Huh.” I set the watch on the counter, not able to touch it any longer. It was impossible to look at Channing—I was too afraid he’d see the torrent of jealousy and frustration I felt. Him seeing someone else hurt, even though I had no right to be hurt. Or angry. Or jealous. Because I’d made my position clear, hadn’t I? Now I was reaping what I’d sowed. “Well… be careful.”

Unable to bear the weight of his gaze, I turned and quickly retreated to my office, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

I tried to lose myself in paperwork while the final tattoos of the day were finished up. At some point Christian and Dane had popped in to let me know Channing was out for dinner and they were going to start decorating for Channing’s real party, and it was all I could manage to grunt at them.

It wasn’t fair, but I was fucking pissed at myself. So a man had bought Channing a watch. It shouldn’t worry me so much. But that watch was nice. Far too expensive for anyone Channing’s age to have bought it for him. And Channing had said the man was a lawyer, too. In my experience, older men in jobs like that enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and rarely actually cared about their prey.

I kicked at one of the legs of my desk. I wasn’t allowed to be this consumed about it. Channing was twenty-one now. An adult in every sense of the word, and he was allowed to see whoever the hell he wanted, even if I didn’t think his choice of partner was an appropriate one. I’d made my bed and now he was proving I had to sleep in it alone.

Being upset made time pass slowly, but it passed nonetheless, and it was almost time for the party. I needed to shove all my baggage back inside because he deserved a good night to celebrate with his family. And I could still celebrate him even if I couldn’t have him—really, it was the least I could do for him. I opened a drawer and took out a clean t-shirt. There was some deodorant, too, and I freshened up. It wasn’t clear to me why I was trying but it felt like the right thing to do.

Plastering a smile on my face, I left the protective shell of my office.

And entered a goddamn madhouse. Dane and Christian had gone all out—the shop was covered in balloons that hung from the ceiling and crowded the floor like a ball pit. There was not one inch of the shop that wasn’t covered in a technicolor latex.

My whole crew was there, too, with the exception of Trinity, though I knew she’d be there if she could. Everyone was jazzed about helping Channing usher in a new era of his life, laughing and shoving each other playfully in turn. It warmed me, melting some of my irritation at myself, to see my family so excited.

Dane ran to shut off the lights. “He’s coming!”

Everyone ducked down, and I slid into the shadows next to my office. As if Channing was going to be surprised. Dane had been sure the cake this morning would offset Channing’s suspicions that we’d throw a real party, but when you worked at the shop, you knew something bigger was going to go down, especially for something like a twenty-first birthday.

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