Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)

Staying for a while isn’t just cowardice. It’s smart. I need to pad my savings. To make sure I can actually find enough design work to pay my rent and put food in my fridge.

But it’s a matter of time.

If I really want this to work, I have to devote more hours to it.

I have to say goodbye to the only place where I belong.

I try to focus on my cover, but it’s impossible. There’s a neon sign in my head flashing THIS IS THE END.

Ryan finishes with his client. He stands and shakes the guy’s hand. His t-shirt—he changed in the bathroom after the meeting—pulls up his stomach as he stretches his arms over his head.

He smiles as he catches me staring. Motions my eyes are up here. Runs a hand through his wavy hair.

The client—a tall guy with a nervous smile—whispers something to Ryan.

Ryan nods and motions to the counter.

They cross the room to me. It’s all routine. Flattery, price quote, credit card, receipt, flirting, tip, smile, wave goodbye.

The bell rings as the guy takes his leave.

Ryan plants his palms on the black plastic. Leans over the counter to press his lips to mine.

Mmm. He tastes so good.

I sigh as I pull back. Everyone’s attention is turned toward us. They’re watching. Figuring out what this is.

Ryan ignores them. “You working on a design?”

“Are you asking as my boyfriend or my boss?”

His smile spreads over his cheeks. “I’m your boyfriend?”

“Aren’t you?”

He intertwines his fingers with mine. “Of course.”

“Okay. Good.” I slide off my stool. Press my thighs against the counter. “So who’s asking?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Yeah. I ran out of Inked Hearts stuff.”

“Boss doesn’t care either.”

“Bullshit.”

“No. We have the same agreement. You do your Inked Hearts shit, you can do whatever you want with the rest of your time.”

“Okay.”

“You know how much longer you want to stay?”

“A lot longer.”

He brushes a hair behind my ear. “You’re gonna be great, Leigh. You’re gonna soar. Being here forty hours a week is clipping your wings.”

“I know. But they’re my wings. I’ll leave when I’m ready. You don’t get a say.”