Page 62 of Dylan
“I was a bottle girl.”
I try to stifle the frown that comes to my face, but I fail epically. I hate the idea of her working in a nightclub or bar. That’s not happening again.
“Oh my God, look at your face. You have a jealous streak. You can chill. I don’t want to do that again anyway,” she laughs.
“Come work at the gym. You said you ran the one you grew up in.”
“That would be a no. Too much drama. I’m not even sure I want to train there.”
I work my jaw as I think of the reason for that. Cadlha will be gone soon. She doesn’t have to worry about that.
“I want you to reconsider. I’ve been stretching Taegan pretty thin as my assistant due to the need to step in for some family business. I could use you at the gym to take a load off her.
“Try it out. See if you like it. Once I make some necessary changes, there won’t be any more drama. However, in the meantime, we can brainstorm something else.”
“Like what?”
“How about the tatting? Let me see some of your artwork. I’ll tell you if you’re trash and need to find something else. We may need to put your ass in trade school or college.”
She gasps and glares at me. I laugh. She gives me a smile as she sits up and punches me in the arm.
“Ow,” I say as I rub my arm.
The shit really does sting. Damn, she hits hard and I don’t think she put much behind that. She sticks her tongue out at me.
“If I remember correctly, you could only make sad little stick figures when we were younger. I’m already ahead of you.”
I wink at her. “I’ll be the judge of that. My stick figures were the shit. I always made sure you were cute.”
She bursts into laughter that lights up her beautiful face. Shaking her head, she then gets up to head for her drawings. I watch her walk away and bite my lip as my eyes land on her ass in those little shorts.
I’m glad she can take a joke. She’ll have to have thick skin around my family. We’re always teasing and taunting each other and anyone else who enters the line of fire. No one is safe.
I can’t wait for everyone to know I’ve found her. I know Mom will be ecstatic. My heart swells with pride.
My girl is gorgeous and smart. My family already loved her when she was little. I know they will be proud of the woman she’s become too.
She returns and sits down, placing a sketchbook in my lap. I look into her eyes and feign nervousness. She pokes me in my side and leans in to kiss my lips.
I don’t allow her to pull away, grasping the back of her neck and taking over the kiss. She wraps her arms around my neck. I deepen the kiss and groan.
She pulls away, breathless with a smile on her lips. I run one hand over the side of her face, then palm it as I stare into her eyes. The dreamy look on her face echoes how I feel.
She clears her throat. “Don’t judge me too hard,” she says and bites her lip.
I shake my head and release her face to open the sketchbook and flip through. The first page I open to has a drawing of half a young boy’s face. I keep turning and find other images then more of the boy. Each image of him gets more detailed.
My mouth falls open when I realize it’s me. It’s almost as if I’m watching how she remembers me more and more, drawing by drawing.
“Well?” she says a little above a whisper.
“You’re amazing. I’m speechless. These are so far from our little artwork when we were little. Damn, baby, you’re good.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know if that will translate into tatting.”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Okay,” she says, looking up at me with those big, pretty eyes.
