Page 113 of Bad Influence
“What if I run away?” I ask in a low voice.
The corner of his mouth tilts up, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Try it. Let’s see how far you get before I find you.”
“You’re obsessed with me,” I tease.
His grin is wolfish. “Now you’re getting it.”
My heart feels like it’s about to explode out of my chest. Suffice it to say, I’ve never thought anyone, let alone Killian York, will be obsessed with me. Sweet old Caroline Sinclair who does everything that’s expected of her. Except that’s not me anymore, is it? I broke that cycle when I left, and now I’m in charge of my decisions.
“Why do you call me butterfly?” I ask, my eyes dropping to the sketch between us. It’s odd that he drew so many butterflies for me.
“It’s chaos theory,” Killian says.
I tilt my head in confusion. I’ve heard of the chaos theory. I’m not sure how that connects here.
“The butterfly effect is a known concept of the chaos theory,” Killian explains. “The idea that something as simple as the flapping of a butterfly’s wings can lead to chaotic disturbances.”
I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.
“I’m not chaotic,” I say.
Killian looks at me with disbelief. “Butterfly. You’re the most chaotic. You flapped your wings and look what happened. This isn’t the first time, either. You’ve caused chaos in my life since we were kids.”
I pout, not liking this at all. I’ve never wanted to cause chaosin his life. Killian tilts his head, sucking my lips into his mouth and biting gently.
“If it makes you feel better, I like you making my life chaotic.”
I sniff, twisting my mouth to the side. “It makes me feel slightly better.”
With a soft laugh, he kisses my cheek before going back to the sketch. I rest my chin on my hand as I watch him work. The design doesn’t look complicated, but Killian is giving it great care. I love watching him work. There’s this intensity behind his eyes when he focuses on the canvas. The same kind of intensity he has when he looks at me, sometimes. Like I’m the sole focus of his attention.
“I’ve never seen you do that before,” I say, nodding toward the translucent paper and the sketch he’s making.
“I never do this,” Killian replies.
“Don’t you have to do it for everyone you tattoo? Isn’t it the same process?”
“I don’t draw for my clients,” Killian says. He straightens when the design is fully sketched.
“I’m so confused,” I say.
Taking my hand, he leads me back to his station. I sit down on the chair while Killian sets up his table. He doesn’t say anything until he sits down on the stool and rolls it close to me. I lay my arm on the raised table between us.
“I don’t put my art on people, Caroline,” he says. “I don’t even sketch the designs they bring me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust people,” he replies simply. “I pick my canvas and I get more or less the same result each time. People are dangerous. You rarely know what you’re going to get. I don’t want them to walk around with a piece of me on their bodies. Nothing original. Nothing I’ve spent time and effort creating.”
He sprays a foaming cleanser onto my arm and scrubs it clean with a paper towel before I can pull it back.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. “I can just have Eve?—”
I break off when Killian looks up with a glare. “If you’re getting a tattoo, I’m the only one who’s going to do it.”
“Eve can sketch something,” I say softly. “You don’t have to do it.”
Killian smiles softly. “Butterfly, I appreciate the offer, but do you think I would’ve sketched so many designs if I didn’t want to do this? You’re mine, and you already have more of me than anyone else can ever have. A piece of art is just my offering to you, my goddess of grace and beauty.”
