Page 35 of After All This Time

I wipe away excess ink, revealing the clean lines taking shape beneath.

"You think?" Her voice wavers as I get back to tattooing the floral design winding around her calf. A lily and a rose bloom side by side, surrounded by delicate bluebells—an unlikely mix of flowers somehow working perfectly together, each petal adding its own beauty to the piece.

"Trust me, I've had people crying in this chair more times than I'd like to admit." I grin, keeping my hands steady as I work. "And that includes guys."

"I can believe it." She inhales sharply as I hit a more sensitive spot, quickly trying to mask it with a smile. "You probably don'tmind the pain, though, considering…" Her eyes drift to the ink peeking from under my sleeves.

"I don't mind the pain so much now, but I was addicted after my first one."

"What was it?"

"A butterfly on my ribs. It hurt like hell, but I love it. Still my favorite, even now." I shift my focus back to her calf, leaning in to bring the last lines to life. "Ribs are brutal for a first piece though. I don't recommend it unless you've got a thing for feeling like someone's taking a hot knife to your bones."

Twenty minutes later, I grab the roll of wrap, moving carefully as I wind it around Chloe's leg, making sure it's snug but not too tight.

"All done."

"Thank you. Seriously, this is amazing." She's still caught in that first-tattoo trance, where the pain fades and all that's left is the artwork claiming space on your body.

"Happy to hear it." I peel off my gloves, the snap of latex marking the end of another session, and watch her drift toward the counter where Lola's waiting.

As I'm cleaning up my station, tidying up stray ink bottles and wiping down surfaces, I feel someone hovering nearby.

"Tobias?" I glance up to find Chloe standing there, clutching her phone in her hand.

"You good?" I ask, tossing the last ink-stained paper towel into the trash and turning toward her.

"Yeah, I was just… wondering." She hesitates, her cheeks pinkening slightly. "And you can totally say no if you want to—I don't usually do this kind of thing." She tries to laugh it off, but I hear the nerves in her voice. "But I thought… maybe you'd like to exchange numbers?"

My eyes drift past her shoulder, catching Lola's death glare from behind the counter. The "no-dating-clients" rule she laiddown my first day here comes rushing back. Hell, she practically stamped it onto my balls.

It's Lola's one nonnegotiable, and the look she's giving me from across the room says it all.

Let's just say it's not a look that screams, "You do you." No, it's more like, "Go ahead, I dare you—and wave goodbye to any future kids while you're at it."

I'm as straightforward as they come, but I've learned a different kind of honesty when it comes to turning women down. If I want you, you'll know it—no games, no guessing. But if I don't, or if I can't have you, I'm not the kind of guy who's gonna make you feel shitty about it. There's a way to say no without leaving someone crushed, and there's nothing worse than watching someone's confidence shatter just because you're not feeling it, or in this case, because your boss would literally murder you in your sleep.

"You're beautiful, and I'm flattered, honestly, but I'm not in a position to date right now."

"Not a problem at all. Thanks again. The tattoo is everything I wanted it to be."

"You're welcome," I reply, watching as she slips out.

I turn back to finish cleaning up, but I can feel Lola's eyes on me even before she opens her mouth. She saunters over, arms crossed, a smirk already tugging at her lips.

"Well, you didn't even look sad about it that time. What's the matter? Long legs and a killer rack suddenly not doing it for you?"

Amelia's face flashes in my mind, and I shut that shit down fast.

Not going there. Not today.

"Just respecting your rules, boss."

"Please. Normally, you look like you're one rejection away from crying when you give them the 'I'm not in a position to date' lie."

"Fucking cry?" I raise a brow, laughing as I toss my gloves in the trash.

"Yes, cry. I've seen it."

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