Page 14 of Inked Heart
My cheeks burn.“Damien isn’t like that.”
Emette glances at him again, this time with open disdain.“The accountant?”
“Yes.”
He snorts.“Please.”
The sound is small but sharp enough to make my stomach twist.“What’s that supposed to mean?”I ask.
“It means,” he says slowly, “you’re hanging around a bunch of guys who peaked in high school.”
The irony of that statement is so overwhelming I almost laugh.Instead, I grip the cart handle tighter.“They run a successful business.”
“It’s a tattoo shop.”
“Your point?”
“My point,” he says, voice rising slightly, “is that you’re smarter than this.”
I stare at him.“Smarter than what?”
“Hanging out with people like that.”
People like that.Something cold settles in my chest.“They’re good people.”
“Yeah?”he says.“Then why does the whole town think that place is trashy?”
“That’s not true,” I reply honestly.I know lots of people that love the parlor and the people who work there.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I glance toward Damien.He’s standing there quietly, expression neutral.But his jaw is tight and suddenly I hate that he’s hearing this.
“Emette,” I say quietly.“Stop.”
“What?”
“You’re being rude,” I hiss.
“I’m being honest.”
“No,” I say, voice trembling slightly.“You’re being mean.”
He rolls his eyes.“Oh, my God, Quinn.”
“What?”
“You’re acting like a child.”
My heart stutters painfully.“I’m defending my friends.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
That one lands like a punch and for a moment I can’t even speak.The grocery store suddenly feels too bright, too loud, and too full of people who might be listening.
Emette shakes his head like he’s dealing with something incredibly inconvenient.
“Come on,” he says.“Let’s go.”
