Page 15 of Patchwork
“Glad to hear it.” He slides his hands up my thighs and under my shorts, then smiles only an inch away from my lips. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I kiss the tip of his nose and ease my hold on him, but he stays right where he is between my thighs.
“With you crashing here for a few months, I’m wondering what you want me to tell the guys. They’re nosy as hell, they’re going to be crowing about it like a bunch of gossiping hens.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Just that I know they don’t buy the ‘just friends’ thing, but with only seeing each other a few times a year and you giving me a shout out as your tattoo artist in that magazine article last year and everything, there’s plausible deniability. But when I tell them you’re staying at my place for three months, they’re going to know we’re… you know, whatever. And I guess I just wanted to know how you want me to handle that. I can stick to telling them to mind their business, but I don’t want them to make you uncomfortable with their teasing either.” He rambles a little, digging his fingers harder into my thighs, and I slowly put the puzzle together from the pieces he’s giving me.
“Wait, you’ve been telling them you’re just my tattoo artist for the last four years?” It seems like that’s what he’s saying, but that can’t be right, can it? Who the hell fucks a rockstar anddoesn’t run around bragging about it to every person they’ve ever met? That’s half the point of hooking up with a celebrity, isn’t it?
He shrugs. “Well, yeah. Like I said, I know they don’t actually buy it, but I figured as long as I stick to the story, they can’t prove anything. I’m sure you get enough people sticking their nose into your private business, the last thing you need is me running my mouth about the filthy things we get up to.”
I tangle my fingers in his beard and stare at him for a second. Is he for real?
“You’ve been lying straight to your best friends’ faces for four years to protect my privacy?”
Hero shrugs again. I tighten my legs around him and pull him closer to me until there isn’t an inch of space between us.
“You are too fucking sweet.” I kiss his lips and then bump my nose against his.
He rumbles a laugh. “I don’t know about that. So, what do you think? Should I just stick to the party line or what?”
I shake my head, the tips of our noses brushing again.
“Tell them I’m obsessed with you and as soon as they let me off the tour bus, I got in my car and drove straight here to break into your house, and now I’m refusing to leave,” I murmur, kissing him again.
“That’s even less believable than you crashing at my house for three months just for free tattoos.”
“Alright, then tell them I’m here to convince you to marry me and let me stay in Fall Crosse forever, drinking coffee and writing wonderfully peaceful songs about lazy mornings and delicious frittatas.”
Hero chuckles again. “You’re ridiculous. It sounds like you’re cool with me telling them the truth though?”
“Tell them whatever you want, sweetness.” I smack one last kiss to his lips, and he rumbles a happy sound in his throat.
I can tell he’s still not fully convinced that I’m actually planning to stay for three months. I guess it’s probably a good thing I haven’t told him the truth—that part of me is thinking about staying a hell of a lot longer than that. I don’t want to get his hopes up before I decide for sure.
Chapter 8
HERO
SinceIleftmybike at Ink Slingers last night, Onyx gives me a ride to work. With the windows rolled down and his fingers drumming on the steering wheel in time to the music on the radio, there’s a lightness in my chest that brings a smile to my face.
He pulls right into the same parking spot he used last night. There’s something so sweet and domestic about getting a ride to work from him, even if it was mostly practical. He turns towards me in his seat and my heart jumps. I glance at the large window at the front of the shop. There’s no way those nosy assholes aren’t going to notice me getting out of Onyx’s car. He said he didn’t care what I told them about us, but I haven’t gotten around to deciding whetherIcare what they know.
If I tell them Onyx and I are hooking up or whatever this is, they’re going to be looking at me with sad puppy eyes when he leaves, whether that’s next week or in three months. Do I want to deal with all that? I only have a few seconds to decide with Onyx looking at me with a soft kind of expectation in his eyes and theguys no doubt already craning their necks inside to see what’s going on out here.
Fuck it.
I lean across the center console and brush a kiss to his lips. They curl into a smile against mine and I kiss him just a little deeper, savoring the quiet moan he feeds me when I slip my tongue into his mouth.
“Come back around four and I should be able to get started on a new tattoo for you if you want,” I offer.
He nods, his forehead bumping against mine. “Count on it.”
I slide out of the car, then stop as a realization hits me. I pat my pockets and pull out my keys, fiddling with the keyring for a second before ducking back inside the car.
“Here.” I hand him my house key.
