And those lace-up boots—
It flits through my head, an image of her in nothing but the boots.
Her legs hooked around my waist, boots crossed over each other.
The heels—chunky black things—digging into my back.
“Seems like you have time,” Holden says. “He needs to go relieve himself.”
Shit. Either I’m obvious or Holden—
No, it’s Holden being an idiot. He’s always like this.
And Skye is always a curvy goddess. A goth princess. A—
Shit. Not going there.
“Matcha?” Her eyes light up. Then it’s her entire face. When she loves something, she does it at a hundred percent. “The place with the Hulk on the wall?”
“You want to walk there in those shoes?” It’s close to our sister shop, Inked Hearts, but it’s a twenty-minute walk from here.
“How do you think I got here?” She motions to the door. Let’s go.
“On one of those scooters, skirt blowing in the wind?” Holden winks at her.
She ignores him.
“You know I’m gonna get some coffee. That place on Ocean,” Holden says.
“No, you aren’t.” I shoot him a stern look. One that means stay where you are.
He plays coy for a minute, but he does nod. “I’ll stay here. Do another one of these.” He flashes the pinup. “But naked.”
The sun bounces off the nearby shop windows, the shiny aluminum cars, the patent leather of Skye’s boots.
Those damn boots.
I want to feel the weight of them against my back.
To pin her thighs to the bed as she—
Fuck.
What’s wrong with my head today? Sure, Skye is gorgeous. And sexy as hell. She’s always posting ridiculously hot pics on her Instagram.
Supposedly, they’re for other women. To show off clothes.
But fuck if I can remember a single piece of attire.
The pics show off her curvy body.
The clothes are in the way. Not the focus.
There’s way too much fabric—
Shit.
I try to push my thoughts to less dirty place. They refuse.
It’s weird. I don’t usually struggle to draw a firm line between friends and lovers. Yeah, I picture Skye naked from time to time. Think about her when I fuck myself even. But that’s all it is. Me noticing a hot chick.
She’s an attractive woman.
I haven’t fucked anyone in the better part of two years.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe I need to get laid. Maybe that’s what will make it possible to look at Skye without picturing her naked.
Her eyes flit to me. She slips on her cat-eye sunglasses. Turns to Inked Love. Watches Holden spy. “You have to admire the balls.”
“Do I?”
Her laugh is soft. Light. “If it was his ex, he would have told her to go fuck herself, then sent her a picture of him fucking another woman.”
Probably, yeah. “Is that your plan?”
Her cheeks flush.
I think. With the makeup she wears, it’s hard to tell. Not that I’m complaining.
The loud makeup, the blunt haircut, the black dresses—that’s Skye. It suits her. It is her. It’s impossible to imagine anything else.
“I don’t know.” She moves forward. So she’s in front of the boutique next door. And out of Holden’s eye line. “Do you have pictures with anyone who could pass as me?”
“I’ve never been into pictures.”
Her teeth sink into her lip. “Never?”
I shake my head.
“Too bad. That only leaves my plan.”
“Skye—”
“Seriously, Forest. Don’t tell me I did my makeup for nothing.”
“You posted a selfie on Instagram.”
“So?”
“You did your makeup for that.”
She clears her throat. “You know what I mean.”
“You do your makeup first thing in the morning.”
“Sometimes.”
I raise a brow.
She nods it’s true.
Maybe, but I need to look her in the eyes. I reach for her sunglasses. Peel them off her face. “I can’t talk to you like this.”
She shudders as my fingers skim her temples. “I, uh…” Her eyes meet mine. “So… uh…”
“It looks good. Your makeup.”
“I know.”
“Your dress too.”
“Are you going to spend the afternoon telling me things I know?” Her lips curl into a half-smile.
It warms me everywhere.
Right now, this seems like a good idea.
Whatever it takes to keep her smiling.
To protect her.
Help her.
“You’re sure you’re going to convince me,” I say.
She nods. “I am.”
“How?”
“It’s simple.” She pulls out her cell. Opens the camera app. “We take a few pictures. Post them on social media.” She rests her head on my shoulder. Smiles at the camera. “When she gets jealous, you’ll know I’m right.”
Sure, there’s a part of me that wants to make Mack jealous. That wants to make her beg for forgiveness. But it’s not a part I like. “Skye—”
“You don’t want her jealous? Really?”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
“To protect you.”
Her expression softens. “Be more selfish.”
“I’ll try.”
She laughs. “Thanks.” She motions to the camera let’s go. “Just try it. You’ll like it. I promise.”
“I’ll like it.”
“Yeah.”
“And you?” I ask.
“Will also like it.” Her fingers brush my navy t-shirt. “Or we could go all in. You take this off. I unbutton your jeans. We imply we’re fucking in the Inked Love bathroom.”
“Get arrested and spend the summer in jail?”