Page 19 of Sing For Me

“You were young too,” he says softly. “Eighteen. I can’t imagine.”

I had felt young at the time. Young and terrified. But I had to grow up real quick. Kat was barely into high school. She needed someone to step up and there was no one else to do it.

“Anyhow.” I give myself a little shake, not wanting to dwell on this during what had been a surprisingly nice conversation. “Kat and I ended up closer than ever, so I guess that’s a silver lining.”

“Does she live around here?”

“She’s at school in New York. Columbia.” A familiar pang of pride throbs in my chest, mixed with the sting of being far away. “I miss her like crazy.”

Will’s eyes sweep my face, and I shift, feeling vulnerable. I realize it’s been several minutes since I felt the sting of the tattoo gun.

“How’s it looking down there?”

“Oh.” He blinks as if surprised before focusing on my ankle again. “We’re just about finished, actually. Just need to get you cleaned up and wrapped.”

“Wow, really?” That didn’t seem to take very long at all.

I can’t help thinking the way time flew might have to do with the company.

“You want to see?”

Will must sense that twisting my leg in this position is going to be difficult because he pulls out a small hand mirror and holds it up for me. There, just above my foot, curving slightly below the ankle bone, is a perfect sprig of lavender.

I have a tattoo. The one thing I’ve always been told is off limits in my line of work. Sure, it’s small, but it’s there and it’s permanent.

A rush of satisfaction hits me. I had no idea being rebellious could be this fun.

“I love it,” I tell him, breaking into a smile.

“Yeah?” he looks pleased to hear it.

I hold out my phone. “Take a picture for me?”

“Sure.” He lines up the phone and takes a few shots. Then he meets my eyes quickly, his gaze appraising, before he bends over my phone, taping on the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m being completely unprofessional.” Before I can ask what he’s talking about, he shoots me a wolfish grin that has my knees feeling suddenly weak, even sitting down. “Now you have my number.”

He presses another button on the screen and another phone dings in response. His phone. He texted himself. “And now I have yours, too.”

I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face, my heart fluttering. “You should definitely use it.”

Even as I say the words, there’s a part of my brain that can’t believe this is really happening. Am I seriously flirting with this guy? A complete stranger? Not to mention that it couldn’t be more obvious that Will has no idea who I am.

But maybe that’s why this feels so good.

He applies lotion then wraps the tattoo with a clear bandage, explaining the aftercare instructions while he works. I find myself staring at the side of his face, his strong jaw under the scruffy beard, the surprisingly soft bow of his upper lip. Will is a perfect combination of beautiful and badass, and I find it incredibly attractive.

“Hey, girlie.”

I snap my gaze away from his to see Marissa standing in the doorway, Luke and Geoff behind her. “You finished?”

“Um, yeah.”

Will hands my phone back, attracting the attention of all three of my friends. Marissa and Luke wear identical expressions—curiosity—while Geoff looks almost giddy.

I am definitely going to be hearing about this. But when Will takes my hand in his much bigger one to help me down from the table, I find I don’t really care if my friends tease me. Those few flirty moments with Will were worth it.