Page 8 of Not Dating Material

I finish the color and check the design over to make sure it doesn’t need any touch-ups, but I nailed it, if I say so myself.

“Wanna see?”

“Fuck yes.” She climbs off the bed, and we cross the room to the full-height mirror on the wall.

Elle turns, and the second she sees it, she cackles. “Oh, this is absolutely perfect, Seven.”

It’s a male pinup model, hairy legs, bulging jock, one nipple peeking over the top of his corset. And wrapped around the pole he’s holding on to are the words You’re about to fuck a feminist, and she’s rich enough to sue. The pinup man is wearing sparkly red heels and standing on a rainbow brick road that leads all the way down over her butt.

“You really didn’t peek?” I ask.

“Oh, no, I totally did. I was curious how making me look like I fart rainbows fit the brief.” She turns to me with a wide smile, septum piercing almost touching her top lip, and pulls me into a hug. “I love it.”

“Amazing.” I shift back. “Now, do you want to put on pants?”

Elle pulls away with an eye roll and grabs her panties. “You never tell Madden to put on clothes.”

“Most of the time, I don’t notice he’s not wearing any.” Once she’s back in her thong, I cover the tattoo and get started on cleaning my workstation.

“You got plans later?” she asks. “I’m free for dinner if you are.”

I hum as I grab my phone to check if I have any messages from Xander. The screen is cluttered with social media mentions and nothing else, which means he’s had a good day. Like it always does, the knot in my chest loosens. “Looks like I’m good.”

“Excellent. You can fill me in on that twink you left with the other night.”

I freeze midway to picking up an ink canister. “Ah …”

“What?”

“Nothing. It … let’s just say it was a bust.”

“Really?” She narrows her heavily lined eyes. “But he was so into you.”

Elle’s not an idiot, even though people try to treat her like one. She’s currently working as a paralegal because she studied law at Cambridge and now has a bunch of hoops to jump through in order to practice here.

It’s obvious she knows something happened, but I’m not sure I want to get into what. It was bad enough that Molly found me so vulnerable, and I’ve spent the last few days waiting to see if anyone in the house was going to bring it up.

So far, it seems like he kept his word.

And yet, I think out of everyone, she’d get it.

“Actually,” I say, keeping my stare pinned on my tattoo machine as I disinfect it. “He wasn’t interested at all. He was there as revenge.”

“What in the hell do you mean?”

“Long story short: his friend was having kittens because he thought we were dating when we weren’t, so twinkity tied me up and took a bunch of photos of me naked. Even after I told him to stop.” Just saying the words makes my throat uncomfortably tight. I hate being weak. I hate even more having to admit that to someone. Like I’ve cut myself open and held up my heart for inspection.

“Excuse me, you’re going to have to repeat that fucked-up story you just told because there’s no way I could have heard you properly.”

Her indignation makes me smile. “Nah, I think you got it.”

“How goddamn dare he?”

I shrug. “He dared, and now it’s done. Not much I can do about it.”

Elle pulls me into a hug again, but this time, the extra oomph she puts into it makes me feel like she’s trying to hold me together.

“Okay, okay,” I say, stepping away and trying not to feel too awkward. “It happened. It’s over.”

---