Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,69
He wasn’t wrong, though. I did get a haircut, and Christian had loaned me one of his nicer suits. Since putting on muscle at school, we were much closer to the same build, and it fit like it was tailored to me.
I had to admit that it felt good, powerful even, to have a three-piece on and my hair styled into elegant curls.
“You’re great with people, Channing,” Christian said, his mouth quirked at Dane’s relentless teasing. “These are just people. Clothes don’t make them less human or more powerful. If you saw some of the weird-ass things wealthy people come to the emergency room with, you wouldn’t be nervous at all.”
Dane clapped behind me. “Please, please tell me we can hear some ‘what did people shove up their ass’ stories? Those are seriously like crack for me.”
Even though I was still nervous, their banter was grounding and Christian’s reminder helped enough that I managed, “Do you really want to think about things going up assholes right before Reagan picks me up?”
That did it. Dane started running around the foyer like he was on fire, his hands over his ears and singing ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ by Journey as loud as he could. Christian managed to turn a legitimate shade of green and made puking noises convincing enough he might actually have been dry heaving.
With brilliant timing, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and Reagan looked very confused, the noise coming from inside the house blasting behind me. I didn’t notice, though. All I saw was him. Oh, my heart.
His suit was black, the material hinting at shine. The lapels were thin and the buttoned jacket showed off his strong trunk of abs and massive chest. I was practically drooling at how his arms looked like they might bust out of the sleeves of the jacket if he flexed too much.
Reagan’s hair was combed back and his beard looked extra groomed, trimmed and oiled so that the red and silver stood out. God, he was so sexy and my ass clenched at the memory of him inside me, of how good it felt, of how he stretched my body and mind to its limits and then held me as I came back to myself.
I groaned because there were now some pretty immediate things I’d much rather be doing than going to an art show.
“Are Christian and Dane okay?” Reagan asked.
I shook my head. “Dane has never been okay. He will never be okay. But Christian might get it together eventually.”
His low chuckle had my hairs standing on end. Just being near him, hearing his low voice and feeling the strength and warmth of him cause a reaction in me. Like I was attuned to Reagan. I loved it.
“You look incredible,” I managed, trying to sound cool.
He beamed at me and did a slow down-and-up of my body. “You do, too.”
I toed the floor. “I’m borrowing the suit from Christian.”
“It looks as if it were made for you.”
“Oh my god, please go away or I’ll have to blind and deafen myself to escape the grossness!” Dane’s shout came from inside. It was often hard to remember he was in his mid-thirties when he acted and sounded like a perpetual twelve-year-old.
Reagan grabbed my hand and we walked to his truck. It was early—the exhibit was at 8:00 p.m. and it was only 5:30. The summer sun was still strong in the sky and the heat was a blast that made my suit suddenly weigh about ten extra pounds. But his strong hand squeezed mine after we got inside and buckled up.
“I didn’t want to spring this on you like this, but my old professor invited us out for dinner and drinks with him and some of his friends. I just found out a little while ago. Would that be okay? If not, we can stick to a quiet dinner date with just the two of us.”
Of course I wanted it to be the two of us. I had no interest in meeting one of Reagan’s exes—especially since he’d been half the reason Reagan had been so worried and reluctant to date me. But I also didn’t want to look like an insecure kid who couldn’t handle meeting an ex. Besides, it was free food and drinks and I was beginning to think I’d need several drinks to get through the night. “Sure, we can go.”
Reagan’s giant smile helped smooth out some of my irritation.
The restaurant was posh and exactly the