“Do you know what it means?” I ask, opening my eyes and then quickly looking away. I’m a doctor, so you’d think that the sight of blood wouldn’t bother me. And it doesn’t, as long as it isn’t my blood.
“I’ve put it on a few other people. Looked it up one time. It’s deep.”
“Yeah”—I take a big breath, holding it in a for a few beats before letting it out—“well ...” My words trail off because I don’t really know what else to say, and I sure as hell don’t want to talk about why this particular tattoo means so much to me.
Connor goes quiet
. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through my head, and I glance up. His eyes catch mine for a brief second before he looks back down, but that brief second was enough to tell me that he had my number.
“So it’s personal, huh?”
“What?” I scoff. “A girl can’t get a tattoo just to get a tattoo?”
“Of course she can, but you’re different. This is personal.” He cocks his head to the side, his hair falling in front of his face. I have to fist my hands together to keep from brushing it away so that I can better see his face.
“Okay, fine, you’re right. It’s personal.”
“I’m always right,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It would be prudent of you to remember that.” I cock my head to the side just as the machine turns off and Connor looks up. He has one hand settled at the base of my waist, the other holding the needle off to the side. His eyes are smoldering, pinning me in my seat.
My tongue darts out, running a slow path along my lower lip, and I watch as his eyes follow along. Oh yeah, this is happening. Not one to beat around the bush, I decide to go for it. It’s obvious we’re attracted to each other, so there’s no reason for this not to happen.
“What are you doing when you get off work?”
Connor’s eyebrows push into his hairline. “Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks.
My heart clenches inside my chest and I take a deep breath, because as much as I’d like to say yes, that just isn’t who I am anymore. “Nope,” I state impassively. “I gave up dating.”
“You don’t date?” he asks incredulously.
“I fuck.”
Lips parted, he nods slowly several times as though he’s processing what I just said—and deciding what he’s going to do about it.
“Well, that’s too bad, because I gave up fucking.”
His cheeks flush, probably because he realized what he just admitted to, and I can’t help but laugh. “So you don’t have sex?”
Connor rolls his eyes, and even though I’m not a fan of the gesture, he makes it look sexy. My guess is that he makes most things look sexy. “Of course I have sex. I just stopped fucking. I gave up the meaningless one-night stands. I want more.”
“Ahhh.” I nod. “Well, good luck with that.” Connor doesn’t say another word. He puts the tattoo gun up and then holds up a mirror so I can check out my new ink. “It’s perfect,” I state, my eyes roaming the beautiful script.
“I’m glad you like it.” Connor puts the mirror down, and slathers some Vaseline on my tattoo. He follows it up with a bandage, all the while rattling off the aftercare instructions.
“Are we done?” I ask, secretly hoping that he’ll tell me no. At least then I’d have a reason to stay.
“We’re done.” I push up from the chair. Connor nods his head toward the front desk and I follow him up there to pay. We seem to have fallen into a comfortable silence, and his presence alone is calming in a way I can’t explain. I wish like hell that he would’ve taken me up on my offer, because I have no doubt that it would’ve been fucking fantastic.
Without a word, Connor swipes my card, then I sign the receipt and shove my wallet back in my purse. When I look up, Connor is watching me intently. “Thank you,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. His blue eyes are two swirling pools of liquid heat, and what I wouldn’t give to dive in and beg him to change his rules for just one night. “Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure.”
We stand there for several more seconds, the air crackling around us, and when my phone beeps in my purse, I decide that’s my cue to leave. “I better go.”
“When will I see you again?” he hollers as I walk toward the door.
Spinning around, I give him my best come-hither look. “When I decide to get another tattoo.”
“Or?” he asks, a grin splitting his ruggedly handsome face.