Page 31 of Lilah
"So, do you work here?" I question, just to get a conversation going while I try to fix my nose.
"I own it."
Woah, what a big boy he is.
"You didn't seem like the bartender type," I ramble, "I figured you were like security or something because hello, your arms areas big as me. Then I was like, well, maybe he's not. Maybe he's a janitor. But, you didn't seem like a janitor either. Do bars have janitors?"
"Close your mouth," he grumbles and I give him a pretty darn good glare.
"How old are you anyway? Please don't tell me you're fifty. You look young to be fifty but nowadays, who knows. Wait, don't say it," I hold my hand up.
"Let me guess," I look up at him as he stares down at me. I let my eyes fall over all of his features. No gray hairs, that's a good sign. No wrinkles, that's also a good sign. Strong build, that's a wonderful sign.
"Seventy-four."
"Nope, just kidding. I'm gonna say," I pull on my lip, fully noticing how his eyes fall down to my mouth, "twenty-three."
"Twenty-four," he clears his throat. He's in his prime of many years to come, I can see it right in front of me. Hot dang.
"Let me have the moonshine," I stress, "please, it's all I want. I'll give you whatever you want."
He glances at me, his eyes swirling in mischievousness.
"I have this blanket at home, it's really, really soft. It's gray, it reminds me of you. I'll give it to you if you give me the jar of peach moonshine," I admit.
He doesn't look as open to the idea of the blanket as I am.
"What about...oh! What about I give you a free book at Mr. Terrip's store? You forgot to get a book when you went there," I smile brightly up at him.
I'll give you a free lap dance.
Where theheckdid that come from?!
I sigh and lean back up against the sink.
Grey's wonderful scent envelops my nose but that hardly does anything at the moment. I keep my eyes locked on his tattooed arm, not looking anywhere else.
Up close, the tattoos are absolutely amazing. His entire arm, as far as I can see, is covered with ink. Just under the bottom of his shirt sleeve, scary, dark figures sit. Grim reaper-like figures are the closest thing I can think of.
They're just dark and deadly. It gives me the shivers.
In the background, it's covered with shading and dark colors that accentuate the figures.
Did Pablo Picasso do these tattoos? Goodness. That tattoo artist should win awards or something.
There's smoke that travels from one of the figures and it wraps all throughout the rest of the tattoos on his arm.
A tree goes up and dead branches spread out along his arm, and the back of it, although I can't see it, I wish I could. Around the tree, crows fly in the air.
The bottom of the tree stops at his wrist where there are roots sticking up and no greenery or bushes at all. Everything'sdead.
In the background of the tree, words fill up the rest of his skin. Except for the symbol-like tattoo beside the tree.
I try to read what it says but his arm moves behind me before I can. That brings me back to reality.
With both his arms on either side of me, my heart speeds up.
"Tell me why you want it," he says lowly and I gulp as he stands so close to me.
