“About what?” I placed the helmet on my head and clipped it.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“All of it. You working at an illegal fighting ring, living at a motel by the highway, and now you won’t even introduce yourself to your neighbor. Something’s got you spooked. But I’m patient. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
My heart drummed in trepidation. Savage saw way more than I gave him credit for. “You? Patient? Oh, please. I don’t believe that for a second.”
“I can be patient,” he stated. “For you.”
He got onto his motorcycle, and I climbed on behind him. I pressed against him and wrapped my arms around his muscular body. Savage squeezed my thigh, and we were off.
My brain was buzzing from our kisses and conversation. I wished Savage was exactly as he appeared to be; nothing more than a rough and tough biker who wasn’t capable of seeing beneath the surface.
But he was so much more than that.
He couldn’t know about my past. He couldneverknow about it.
He zagged down a street and eventually pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. I looked at the sign on the building.
“Thanks for the ride. And for breakfast.”
And for the bone-melting kisses.
I swung my leg over his motorcycle and climbed off and then handed him the helmet.
He slid off his bike.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Going inside with you.”
“But why?”
“So I can introduce you to Roman,” he said easily.
“But you already told him about me, didn’t you? You don’t need to tag along. I don’t need an emotional support human.”
“Chill. I have an appointment with Homer—Roman’s brother,” Savage said with a wry grin. “Two birds, one stone. Come on. You don’t want to be late for your interview.”
I hustled after him. He opened the door to the tattoo parlor and allowed me to enter first. I liked the space immediately. There were leather couches and chairs for customers, a coffeetable with magazines to flip through, and the walls were decorated with photographs of finished custom artwork.
I began to relax.
But then two hulking giants appeared from the back hallway and terror filled my throat.
“Savage,” the dark-haired man greeted, holding his hand out to Savage.
Savage clasped his palm and gave it a shake. “Hey, Roman.”
Roman dropped Savage’s hand. He looked at me and flashed a grin. “You must be Evie.”
My voice was trapped in my throat, so I settled for a head nod.
“This is my brother, Homer,” Roman said, gesturing to the blond giant next to him. The man’s face was covered in a scowl, and I instantly took a step back, accidentally bumping into Savage.
“Don’t mind his expression,” Roman stated. “He’s a gentle giant.”