Hating You, Loving You (Inked Hearts 4)

And he's still not a fan of me teaching Chloe.

I can't blame him. It took us a long time to figure it out. For a while, we completely failed at keeping work and play separate. Brought fights and flirting to work. Brought work home. Made use of the back room when we were supposed to be doing mock-ups.

But we did figure it out eventually.

We don't talk work at home.

Don't tear our clothes off at the shop.

All right. If I'm being honest, my love of watching Chloe bloom as an artist is as much boyfriend as it is teacher.

I don't let my affection hold me back. I criticize her when she needs it. Push her when she needs that.

We both push each other to be better.

At work. At home. At everything.

A few weeks ago, Chloe started taking on clients. She's still doing free designs. Simple stuff like hearts, spades, words. She has another year before she's ready to fly solo, but she's well on her way.

"Ryan's gonna have to get over it." I press my lips to hers. Fuck, it feels so good kissing her. It warms me everywhere. "You think I'm going to wait until you're finished with your apprenticeship for that?"

"You think I'm going to say yes before that?"

"Only four hours to Vegas."

"I'll miss you too much if Gia murders you."

"Plus, you might be collateral damage."

She laughs. "Yeah. But we can still go. Put it all on black."

I shake my head. "I want lucky number thirteen."

"Is that black or red?"

"You're the expert."

"Uh… Black. Totally."

My smile spreads wider. She wants this too. But we really can't. Not with how much Gia and Chloe have been fighting over wedding planning. This shit is a stress factory.

And with their mom gone…

I know it's on Chloe's mind.

She's not over her doubts.

But she's getting there.

She handled her two-year scan with grace. She was nervous, but it was nothing compared to last year.

I was more of a wreck than she was.

Fuck, I was terrified.

I get it now, why Ryan was such a miserable wreck of himself.

I loved Chloe a year ago. But after twelve months of waking up next to her, eating breakfast with her, fighting over the remote, trading barbs, watching her grow as an artist…