Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“My woman owns a fancy restaurant.” I roll my eyes.
Should I be checking in on that place? I’m glad my father didn’t request that our dinner be there. That might have made things more awkward. They demanded to meet Eros after the subject of him and me hit the papers. I actually can’t get a feel for what they think of him. He’s not some bum off the street. The man has skills, and I don’t mean only in the bedroom. His art is priceless, if you ask me.
But if I had to guess, my parents want me to be with some banker or someone with a family last name that holds weight. It’s stupid, but I agreed to go to dinner because the little girl inside of me is still always hoping for a bit of their approval.
“So, what are your plans?” he asks, standing beside the kitchen island in a pair of low-riding sweatpants that are covered in old paint. He is really making it hard to leave.
His chest is bare unless you count the love-bite I left on it. I noticed I do that a lot. I think it’s because I want to mark him, and it’s how I can do it without using my ink. Which is something I very badly want to do. I’ve never put ink on a man before, but there is this need inside of me to put it on him. I shouldn’t be surprised.
The man makes me feel things I’ve never felt before with anyone else. Even the love I have for him is different. It’s wrapped all around my heart like ivy that’s gotten out of control and has now slithered its way inside of it. There is no undoing it.
“I’m going to Mick’s shop to finish a tattoo I’ve been working on for Kelsey. Today it should be complete. I’ve been doing it in stages. I only have some coloring left to do. Then I’ll head back home and find something that is suitable to wear for dinner and meet you at the restaurant. That work for you?”
“I’d rather pick you up.”
“It’s out of the way.” I check my phone to see the time. “Plus, if the ink takes longer than I think, which it normally does, I’ll be running behind, and I’m not sure if Grams is coming.”
“All right,” he agrees, but I know he doesn’t want to. “Who’s Mick?”
“She owns a tattoo shop. I use her space sometimes. Getting jealous again?” I smirk. I should not be eating that up, but I am. Every drop of it. It shows me that he’s as into me as I am him. And that he’s not growing bored of me.
“Always.” He gives me the same answer he usually does when I tease him with the question.
“Here.” I open my phone and share my location with him. His whole face lights up when his phone goes off and he sees what I’ve done. It’s a bigger deal than most might realize, but Eros gets it. I’m a runner, and now I’ve given him a way to always find me.
“All right, I’ll see you tonight.” He leans down and kisses me. His fingers sink into my hair to deepen the kiss. I really hope my parents don’t ruin this for me. They really are the final test. Sometimes I can barely tolerate them, and I love them. I don’t know how Eros will do. His mom is a sweetheart. The kind of mom you dream about having.
I’m not sure he really knows what he’s getting himself into.
CHAPTER 21
EROS
“A painter,” Helena Hoffman says in a very unimpressed tone.
“Yup.” I push the chair in for Morgan and take a seat beside her. Dinner is at the Fourteen Hundred Club situated on the 114th floor of the city’s biggest high-rise. I took the chair with my back to the windows, and I think Helena is fantasizing about pushing me through the plate glass. “Started when I was in high school, studied it in college—”
“—But you did not get your degree,” Helena interrupts. “You dropped out after what? Six semesters?”
“It wasn’t for me.”
“I learned nothing in college,” Morgan chimes in for support. Her hand finds mine under the tablecloth. I don’t know if she’s squeezing me for reassurance or support. Maybe a bit of both.
“That’s because you got a ridiculous degree in fine arts,” her dad counters. “Now all you can do to support yourself is that tawdry tattooing.”
Morgan’s mom shudders. No wonder she lives with Violette. Even Alfred, who has never smiled a day in his life, exudes more warmth. I flip my hand over and cradle hers. No matter what her parents say to me tonight, it amounts to nothing compared to what she’s apparently had to endure for years. Commitment to another person would be scary if this is the kind of environment you grew up in.