Page 12 of Falling for the Bad Boy
I tried to imagine what kind of tattoo she might have and where. “Let me guess. A tramp stamp on your lower back? A dolphin?”
“No. Not even close.” She turned around, lifting the edge of her shirt and exposing a sliver of bronzed skin, unadorned by ink.
My gut flipped at the sight. How did we go from talking about her fake plastic body parts to playing show and tell with her real ones? “I believe you. Where is it then?”
She let her shirt fall then turned to face me. “Maybe someday I’ll show you. Maybe not.”
I grinned. She was obviously taunting me, but two could play at that game. Hell, I’d invented it. “Maybe someday I’d be interested in seeing it. Maybe not.”
“Touche.” Her finger poked me in the chest.
Before she could snatch it away, I wrapped my hand around hers and squeezed. “You’re pretty sassy for so early in the morning.”
She glanced up at me through thick, long lashes. “How do you know this isn’t just my typical disposition?”
I let her hand fall away. “Now that you mention it, I think you’re onto something there.”
“Hey”—she slid the mannequin parts away from the elevator with her feet—“as much as I’d love to sit here and chat with you about body adornments, I have things I need to do.”
“Such as?” I widened my stance, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Top priority, coffee.”
“Oh, I’ve got you covered there.”
She quirked a brow. “Really? An elevator rescue and a coffee coup all in the same morning?”
“I brought you a travel mug, but I left it downstairs.”
“Well then what are we waiting for?” She reached up to grab the grate of the elevator and pulled it down before shutting the metal outer doors. “Show me the way.”
I pushed through the door to the stairwell, and we traipsed down the metal steps. When we reached the first floor, I retrieved my travel mug and handed it to her, only realizing then that I’d grabbed the one my sister had given me.
“Sorry I can’t, I have plans with my sheep?” Trinity asked as she read the front of the mug. She held it out in front of her, like it might contaminate her if she dared to take a sip.
My cheeks heated. “It’s a joke. My little sister gave it to me.”
“Because your social life revolves around your sheep? You weren’t kidding when we talked about pretending I was a lamb the other day, huh?”
Somehow, my face flamed even hotter. What seemed like a humorous holiday prank now made me look like some sheep-loving pervert. Desperate to explain myself, I tried not to stutter. “It’s a nickname. She calls me the black sheep of the family since she’s blonde and so are my parents.” I ran my hand through my dark brown, almost black hair. “Get it? Black sheep?”
She smiled as she lifted the mug to her mouth. “Oh, I get it. I just like seeing you blush.”
Damn, this woman always seemed to get the better of me. How did she do it? I’d only known her a few days and, in that time, I’d probably blushed more than I had in my entire adult life.
Her throat moved up and down as she took a sip. She sputtered, forcing down a swallow. The coffee. I’d probably not put enough sugar or cream in it.
“Sorry, I didn’t know how you take it,” I said. “It’s the coffee, isn’t it?”
“It’s all right. I appreciate the gesture.” She set the cup down on top of a ledge that stuck out from the wall. “Come on, let’s go grab some real coffee. My treat for saving me from the elevator.”
Coffee. With Trinity. I had time before my eleven o’clock class. Why not? It would give me a chance to get to know her better and continue my quest to try to figure out her plans.
“Sounds good,” I agreed. “You want to take my bike, or…”
“I’ve got Macy’s car, I’ll drive.” She linked her arm through mine. Her hand drifted down my arm, catching my fingers in hers. “Black.”
“What?” I’d been distracted by the way her soft skin felt against mine. “Black what?”
