Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,40

wouldn’t just lose a boyfriend. I could lose one of my best artists and friends, too. Dane was like family to me and suddenly I felt a rush of panic.

Dane threw an arm over my shoulder. “Hey, boss?”

“What?” I knew I sounded gruff, but shit, this had the potential to be a major issue.

“You know we’re all adults here, right? And that there is a nice, defined line between work and now? I’ve got a good thing going at Get Ink’d, and I don’t think any of us need to worry about anything but nepotism. Because if Channing gets a financial raise and not just a raise in his pants, I’m going to be pissed.”

Channing’s jaw almost dropped before he flared red, obviously seething. “You are the absolute fucking worst, Dane.”

I managed to stifle my chuckle, though, because that was the Danest way of saying, “We’ll be cool no matter what,” and it was exactly what I’d needed to hear.

“Ready to escape?” I opened the front door.

“God, yes,” Channing said, still glaring. Christian was unsuccessfully trying to hide his laughter behind his hand and Dane flashed us an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Channing was right—Dane was the worst, even when he was the best.

In the truck, I took a moment to look at Channing more closely. He’d left his hair unstyled, flopping in dark curls around his eyes and ears. He was wearing a short-sleeved button-down that was tailored to show off his chest and shoulders, which I very, very much appreciated. And like me, he was in dark denim. I could still smell the fresh scent of his shower gel.

“You look amazing,” I said, hungry gaze taking in all of him.

“Jesus, you too,” Channing replied, rubbing at the nape of his neck. His cheeks were flushed. “Where to?”

“I thought we could see a movie, just to do something that wasn’t related to work, and then I’d take you out for dinner? I haven’t dated in a long time, and the movie-dinner date is pretty much the only approach I know,” I admitted, but now that I was saying it out loud, I was feeling a little nervous about it. “I guess it’s pretty old-fashioned.”

“It’s perfect.” Channing relaxed in his seat. “Don’t mess with the classics.”

Movies were a guilty pleasure of mine. I loved going at least once a week. There were so many things that created a sense of nostalgia for me: the dark of the theater, the smell of buttered popcorn, and the taste of Junior Mints. But I’d also been able to watch and appreciate how movie theaters had changed since I’d been young. The stadium seating had been a huge improvement, and who didn’t love the large recliners over the old, stiff wooden seats?

Channing and I loaded up on snacks, though I had to give him an extra stern glare when he tried to pay for them, and went to our assigned seats. I’d picked an action comedy with over-stylized martial arts. It had felt like a safe pick. We got comfortable and the movie started.

Now, I was normally a dedicated movie watcher. I wanted to throttle people who talk in the movies or have their cellphones out. If I was going to drop that much money to watch a movie, I expected to be able to actually watch it without distractions.

But tonight, just sitting next to my date was a distraction. The best kind. In the flickering light of the movie, I couldn’t help but look over at him every time he laughed. I drank in the sight of his easy smiles and bursts of chuckles. I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to be the man at his side, even if it was just for the night.

In what felt like no time at all, the movie credits ran, and as we headed out of the theater, I let my lower hand brush his back. Channing leaned into my touch and even from such a small gesture, my blood heated. He was so...responsive. There were things I enjoyed in the bedroom that I’d locked away for a long time, not wanting to be like the professor I’d dated all those years ago—domineering in an unhealthy way. But Channing seemed to naturally fit into all the right places in my heart, including this one.

I’m in so much trouble.

“I may have overindulged in movie snacks,” Channing said when we got back in the truck. “I’m not sure I have room for dinner, but I’m not ready to go home,