Page 20 of Inked Desires
“You’ve got some strange prejudices about fast food.”
He really is unique. A bit weird too.
“We often underestimate the little things in life,” he says to me.
I can only nod. Today, I haven’t thought much about anything else.
“The next few weeks will be quiet here,” I change the subject after a pause.
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“No, I just meant you might get bored,” I dodge.
I like his presence, even if it’s strange to admit. I’d never say it openly, but I’m aware there’s not much work right now.
“I’ll find something to do,” he mutters.“Inventory probably wouldn’t hurt.”
“Got nothing else? Hobbies? Friends to see?”
“Can’t you tell?” he growls back.
Alright, no point pushing. I hoped he’d open up, but his lips stay shut. The conversation is over, and honestly, my patience has run out.
His closeness eats at me. I need space, or the attraction he stirs in me might break my resistance. Letting this desire linger — and worse, inviting him to move in — is a dangerous game.
Exasperated, I stand and toss the paper bags in the trash before running away from this man who awakens such conflicting emotions in me.
CHAPTER 5
ANDREW
I can’t bring myself to move in with Arès. The idea feels way too risky. Living and working in the same place means exposing myself, making an easy target. Holding down a steady job is a threat in itself... For now, I’m not in any official files, but that won’t last forever.
It’s Sunday, the shop is closed, and I don’t know what to do with my day. So, I end up in a bar. The place is quiet, almost too quiet. A few regulars, clearly too familiar with alcohol, slump over the counter while I take refuge in a shadowed booth.
A glass of whiskey and cola sits before me. It’s been ages since I touched alcohol.
Not since Jace.
He said alcohol made people unpredictable, uncontrollable. That it would make me lose value, dirty me. I was his private jewel. He dressed me as he wanted, picked my clothes, my scent. He liked me flawless, smooth, always ready to please. He wanted a docile toy, a well-behaved doll. My hair had to be a specific shade of black, my eyes the color he preferred. Without that, I wasn’t perfect. Alcohol could have ruined that. Taken me away from the image he built of me.
My hand trembles slightly as I grasp the glass. I bring the drink to my lips, the alcohol sliding slowly down my throat, leaving a diffuse warmth in my belly. Maybe tonight, I’ll just get drunk. The town’s small — I know the way back to the boarding house by heart. Even stumbling, I’d find my way home.
I take another sip, savoring the sudden lightness in my limbs. Yet with it, a familiar shadow resurfaces. Alcohol revives memories I thought buried. Mourning a relationship can be more painful than living it. Even when it broke us, even when it was just a chain of wounds, there remains an invisible thread — that pain that still ties us to what was.
My fingers tighten around the glass. That’s all I have left of Jace: this persistent ache, this diffuse poison.
The bell above the door rings, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up, my stomach tightening slightly as I recognize the man who enters. It’s Arès’client. His black hair, slicked back, shines under the dim light, and his tight t-shirt outlines an athletic figure. I’ve seen him shirtless before. For a moment, I catch myself recalling just how well-built he is... before remembering why I’m here.
His gaze locks with mine and he nods in greeting before briefly motioning to the man beside him. My breath catches. Arès is here.
Of course he is. It had to be him.
His eyes pierce mine — burning, sharp. A needle heated red-hot piercing my skin. Instinctively, my neck tingles where his memory has embedded itself. I don’t understand how he manages to make me react this way, to disarm me so easily. With Jace, I had butterflies in my stomach. With Arès, it’s an uncontrollable blaze. And it terrifies me.
If I give in to this desire, I could lose myself again.
They approach me. My heart races, tension skyrockets. I grip my glass tighter, searching for an anchor.
