Page 30 of Sing For Me

Will

Well, shit.

The minute I saw Eva peering at the silent auction items, all the reasons I’d had for staying away from her fell away. I found myself crossing the ballroom, drawn towards her like some kind of irresistible beacon, abandoning my cousin Fox mid-sentence.

Logically, I knew I should be running in the opposite direction. Getting closer to Eva was the last thing I needed to be doing. But logic didn’t seem to have anything to do with it. Seeing her there, her amazing body clad in tight black satin, red hair swept up to reveal a delicate creamy neck, Ihadto talk to her.

But I also knew that talking to her meant coming clean. I would not only have to tell her why I didn’t call her, but I’d also have to explain what a dumbass tattoo artist would be doing in a place like this.

Which meant telling her about my family.

I hadn’t been looking forward to that conversation. But it would be a hell of a lot better thanthis.

“Did Mom need something?” I ask my dad, thinking maybe if I can get him out of here quickly, I’ll be able to explain it to Eva myself. But from the way she’s staring between us, eyes wide, I can tell she’s already figured it out.

Besides, knowing my dad, there was never much chance he was going to walk away easily.

“A couple people she wants to introduce you to,” Dad says. He reaches out to straighten my tie. “Looking good, kid.”

I grit my teeth. “Thanks, old man.”

He grins at the moniker and then turns to Eva. Becauseof coursehe does. My dad is a meddler and a gossip and it’s way too much to hope that he would see me with a girl and not have something to say about it.

“Who’s your friend?” His voice is full of false innocence and I roll my eyes at him.

“Dad, this is Eva. Eva, my father.”

Dad shoots me a quick glance I can’t read before taking Eva’s hand in his own. “Nice to meet you, Eva. I’m Cash.”

She lets out a little squeak, mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally whispers. “Yes, you are.”

His grin grows—doesn’t matter how old the man gets, nothing pleases him more than rendering a fan speechless. “And how do you know my boy here?” he asks. “Or have the two of you just met?”

Since Eva still doesn’t look to be in any shape to answer, I grit my teeth and grind out the words. “Eva came into the shop for a tattoo a few weeks ago.”

My dad’s face lights up. “Really? That’s wonderful. He’s an amazing artist, isn’t he?” Dad moves to roll up his sleeve. “He did this one for me about a year ago—”

I clamp a hand down on his forearm. “That’s really not necessary.” With my glare, I try to convey the age-old message from every kid to every parent all over the world—stop embarrassing me.

But Eva, at least, seems to have snapped out of her momentary celebrity-induced stupor. “He did a wonderful job,” she tells my dad, voice polite and very nearly steady. “It was my first tattoo and it didn’t even hurt.”

“You’re just a badass,” I tell her, loving the way her cheeks pink up at the compliment. Then I remember that my dad is standing here, staring between the two of us, no doubt overjoyed that I appear to be flirting with someone.

“Will showed me a picture of the sun tattoo he did for you,” Eva says. “It was amazing.”

My dad’s chest is puffed out with pride and even through my annoyance, I can’t help but feel a twinge of affection. The way he’s so unabashedly nuts about his kids, the way he wears his pride for us on his sleeve, is one of the things we all love best about him.

But that doesn’t mean I want him here while I try to talk to Eva. “You can tell Mom I’ll be around to meet whoever in a while,” I tell him, trying to nudge him with my shoulder.Take the hint, Dad.

“Why don’t you both come over to see her with me?” he says. “I’m sure she’d love to meet your new friend.”

I almost laugh out loud at that. Yes, I definitely want to bring Eva over to meetbothmy parents. Knowing my luck, a couple aunts and uncles would probably be there, too. Maybe throw in a few cousins.

Exactly what I need—the whole damn family up in my business.

“Maybe another time,” I say through gritted teeth.

Dad studies me for a second, no doubt taking in the tension I’m throwing out, and his eyes soften. “Okay. I’ll get out of your hair.” He adjusts my tie again, even though I’m certain it’s already straight. “Make sure you find your uncles before you leave tonight. They’ve been asking about you.”