Page 69 of Broken

“You okay?”

The sound of his voice so near makes me jump. He lifts his brows in question.

“For someone so big, you move really quietly,” I remark.

“I’ve heard that before,” he mutters.

It sounds like there is more to that statement, but I don’t know how to phrase it into a question that doesn’t come across as invasive.

“I was admiring the windows.”

I’m still touching the glass, and pull my hand back. Garrett takes a few long gulps of his water before setting the glass down on a low table beside the window. Touching my elbow, he encourages me over to the couch. He sits in the corner and watches as I join him at the other end. I pull my legs up and tug the T-shirt over my knees.

It’ll be stretched to hell, but if he’s concerned, he doesn’t say anything.

“People rarely take an interest in my windows when they come up here.”

“I’m not your average hook-up,” I joke. Partially. I mean, this is another hook-up. Don’t go getting any silly ideas.

“It’s an architecture thing?” he asks.

“Yeah. They’re a good brand.”

He smirks with a slight shake of his head. “About that,” he says after a moment. “Sorry we got interrupted the other night. You said some things that were difficult for you, and I got distracted by a phone call and Lucky’s big mouth.”

“It’s okay.” I look into my glass. “I’m not expecting deep conversations.”

“I am capable of them,” he says.

“Never would have guessed.” I smile at him before looking away again.

“It’s shitty what happened. Especially to someone so talented. Is there no way you’ll get back into it here, in a new city?”

“You’d be surprised by how small the industry is.” I shrug one shoulder, enough that the neck of the T-shirt slips slightly, bearing my skin.

Garrett studies it for a moment. Given how hard he was sucking and nibbling there earlier, I’m sure there is a mark.

It was stupid not to think he’d look me up. I guess, given he shrugged me off so quickly that night, I didn’t think he cared. Which means he knows about Jared.

“Did you look at my work?” I ask, instead of dwelling on that elephant between us.

If he researched me, he’ll know we’re divorced. I paid a lot of money, what little I had left, to get that rushed through.

“I did. It’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” I try to keep the sadness out of my voice, but it’s difficult. “People told me to pick a style. I guess, I like alldifferent architecture and never wanted to be known for one particular style. Plus, I listened to what my clients wanted.”

“Wouldn’t that mean it was harder for people to recognize your work?”

“That’s what I liked about it,” I half grin. “I didn’t conform to the usual standards.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Garrett watches me sip my drink, a slight frown marring his brow. “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t tattoo anymore.”

“Well, you have a talent too. You could use it in other ways.”

His finger taps against his bare knee. God, he’s sitting there, barely covered. Unconsciously, I lick my lips, my mouth dry. He’s taken me to heights I’ve never felt before. Pleasured me so much I couldn’t take any more. It’s strange sitting here, wearing his shirt and chatting.

“It’s hard making a living out of being an artist. Besides, if I couldn’t tattoo anymore, it would be because my hands no longer worked. And,” he holds them up and looks at them. “I couldn’t draw or paint without them either.”

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