Page 18 of The Heart Breaker

He’s trying so hard to act unaffected, like he didn’t sit there with his jaw locked and his hands gripping that chair for dear life while his body gave him away anyway.

But I saw him.

Felt him.

I know exactly what kind of effect I had on him, whether he wants to admit it or not.

“Yeah?” I say when he finally looks at me, tilting my head. “That’s funny. Your hard-on seemed to remember me just fine.”

The smirk drops off his face, his mouth flattening as his jaw flexes. “You were grinding your ass on me,” he snaps. “So yeah, I got hard. But don’t flatter yourself. I don’t want you. Not even if you were the last woman on earth.”

Heat climbs my neck so fast it makes me feel light-headed, anger and humiliation filling my veins. “Good,” I shoot back, my face burning. “Because I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

The barista sets his coffee on the counter, sliding it close enough that Cole has to lean in, and for a second, he’s back in my space, close enough for me to catch that cold look in his eyes. “You already did, Prescott.”

He straightens, grabs his coffee, and walks away without looking back.

I stand there for a second, my pulse still hammering in my ears, before I turn back to the table. The second I sit down, I can feel Isabella looking at me.

“Were you just talking to Cole Ellis?” she asks with a laugh. “Has hell finally frozen over?”

“Never,” I assure her. “Just told him to crawl back into whatever hole he came from.”

Maisie lets out a laugh. “Why do you two hate each other so much?”

Isabella rolls her eyes and leans back. “Don’t even bother. I’ve asked her a hundred times. All she ever says is that he ruined her life.”

Maisie’s eyes go wide. “How?”

“By breathing,” I say flatly.

That gets a laugh out of both of them, but I just pick at the corner of my napkin, refusing to let his words keep looping in my head.

No. Fuck that. I will not let Cole Ellis get under my skin.

So what if he’s got something he could use against me now? It’s not like I’m ever setting foot in that club again. If it somehow comes up, I’ll deny the whole thing and let people think whatever they want.

Last night was a mistake. One I’m not interested in replaying or admitting out loud to anyone. I just wanted one night where I was in control for once. One night where I got to decide who I was instead of feeling like everyone else had already decided for me.

Instead, I gave Cole the one thing he’ll never let me live down.

8

COLE

Ilike closing shifts.

By this hour, the shop’s practically empty. The last of the bookings are long gone and everyone else has already left for the night. Flash was out the door the second his last client left, and the others weren’t far behind.

No surprise there. Walk-ins this late are a long shot. Everyone had already wrapped their pieces, and nobody likes hanging around for nothing.

I didn’t grow up thinking this would be my life. Kids talk about becoming cops or detectives or firefighters. Nobody’s out there at ten years old dreaming about tattooing for a living. But the first time I put a pen to my skin and started to doodle, something in me clicked into place in a way nothing else ever had.

When I’m working, there’s no room for distraction. Either I focus, or I mess it up, and if that happens, somebody carries it forever.

That matters to me.

I chew down on my gum as I wipe down the counter, stacking everything back where it belongs before I close up. I can stillremember the first piece I ever did here. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it, too stubborn to let anyone see I was nervous as hell. Spent the whole thing convinced I’d fuck it up so badly they’d never let me touch a needle again. Somehow, it came out clean. Better than I’d hoped. Healed perfect too.