Page 44 of Broken

“You don’t have to talk about that,” she blurts, another blush creeps up her chest.

She’s wearing a pale blue summer dress. It has capped sleeves, but her arms and legs are bare. She’s paired it with white All Stars that have blue laces to match the dress. Her long hair is braided over one shoulder.

I want to draw her.

That thought gets shoved into the back of my lizard brain right away. I’m not thinking about drawing her, it’s about studying her, touching her to get her the way I want her. My eyes drop to her chest. Despite the delicate pattern on the fabric, I can see the vague outline of her piercings.

In that leather corset, I hadn’t been able to feel them. I clear my throat and lift my eyes to a more respectable area. If her lips could be called that.

“We’d been drinking and…” she trails off.

I wasn’t drunk in the slightest. But if that is what she needs to believe to get past this.

“I want to apologize.”

“For what?” I frown. Getting yourself off on my tattoo table? Kissing me, driving me fucking insane?

“Your work is personal. I overstepped and… That night I didn’t apologize for that. Things got…”

Things did get…something.

“You returned the favor,” I nod to her pad. “They’re good.”

“So are yours.”

Now she is curious. I won’t tell her about Gwen. She’s keeping secrets, I will too. Not that we owe each other anything. I’m about to walk away because this is fucking awkward now, but she speaks again, stopping me.

“And about the other thing. I crossed another line.”

My gaze must be too harsh because she dips her head, fumbling her pad. My lip twitches because I’m pretty sure I knowwhat she is thinking of. And not the kiss. She did naughty things after I left.Verynaughty.

“I don’t want things to be awkward. Knowing I made you uncomfortable is making me crazy.”

“The only uncomfortable thing you made me feel was…” I stop before my fucking mouth takes over my brain. The discomfort was in my jeans, from my cock being so hard I wanted to slam it into her again and again. Not the right thing to say.

“What?” she asks, her chin higher. She wants me to tell her so she can make it better.

Before I open my mouth again, a big drop of water lands on my head. Then more. One second the sun is out, the next the clouds are dumping a month's worth of water in ten seconds.

The rain comes down hard in such a flash we’re soaked in the blink of an eye. Calli lets out a little scream, hugging her pad to her chest. People around us are hurrying to take shelter, or pulling out umbrellas. When the skies open like this, if you’re outside, you’re fucked.

On instinct, I move closer to Calli in some futile attempt to shield her.

“Holy crap,” she shrieks, scrambling to get her things into her satchel.

I help with her bike. The helmet catches my attention. That’s a surprise, a pleasant one. She’s taking her safety seriously.

Standing the bike upright, I turn to face her. She is in the middle of the path, her dress soaked through, hair hanging in wet tendrils around her face, her feet in a puddle of water.

My T-shirt is stuck to me. Is there anything fucking worse than wet denim? Calli draws my attention again, over the roar of the rain her laugh is hard to hear, but she is smiling. When she holds her hands out and tips her head back, I’m fucking mesmerized.

As fantasy inducing as this is, the rain is cold, I’m soaked and a good fifteen minutes away from home. Although my eyes do snag on the piercings, like a fucking pervert.

Grabbing the handlebars of her bike, I hurry toward her. She tilts her head down and her smile turns to a grimace as she shivers. Someone runs past and splashes through a puddle, soaking my already wet legs. I scowl after him, but he’s long gone.

“Oh Jesus,” Calli hurries over and takes hold of the bike. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she looks me up and down. For a moment, she stands there, lost in thought.

“Calli, we gotta get out of this,” I pull on the bike.

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