Page 48 of Ink Me Three Times
By the timethe cornhole chaos dies down and we’ve officially earned our dubious victory as Team CornHub, yes, that’s still happening, the whole crew migrates to the patio behind The Hollow like it’s some kind of afterparty for beanbag gladiators.
The sun’s doing that warm, glowy, golden hour thing like it thinks it can trick me into having emotions. It’s mostly working.
I’m a little sun drunk, a little seltzer drunk, and more than a little dazed from the fact that I didn’t humiliate myself in front of half the town. Or maybe I did, but nobody’s telling me yet. That’s always a possibility in Coyote Glen.
Penny’s off chasing Karl’s Popsicle hyped chaos, Jesse’s disappeared into the sunset with Vanessa again,shock, and the crowd is slowly peeling off… some heading home, some loitering for gossip, some chasing toddlers who’ve gone feral on lemonade and pure spite.
And somehow… I end up at a table with Timothy.
Not on purpose, exactly. It’s just that we both sat down and didn’t get back up. Which isn’t suspicious until you realize you’re the last ones left and you’re halfway through a conversationabout accidental tattoo typos and oh wow, now you’re laughing too hard to stand.
"And the guy still tipped you?" I manage between gasps. "Even after you inked ‘belive’ on his arm forever?"
Timothy just shrugs, that damn grin tugging at the corner of his mouth like it’s not fair how easy it comes to him. "He said it made him look deep. Like he was trying to tell people to be livin’ in themselves."
I nearly snort my drink. "I hate that."
"I know," he says, pretending to be serious. "Me too. But I let him leave happy and I got burrito money out of it, so really, who’s the real loser?"
"Oh wow." I wipe tears from the corner of my eye and sink back into my chair, letting the last of the sun hit my face. "This town is going to kill me. Slowly. With weirdness and carbs."
"I mean, there are worse ways to go."
I’m laughing harder than I should be. My cheeks hurt. My thighs are warm from the sun and his knee just brushed mine under the table. Once. Twice. Probably an accident.
Probably.
But I don’t move.
Neither does he.
He leans back in his chair, stretches and I get a full view of sun kissed forearms, that tantalizing little dip where his biceps meet his T shirt sleeve, and the neck of his shirt sliding just enough to tease the edge of a collarbone tattoo I haven’t seen before.
My mouth goes dry.
"I have questions," I say, trying to sound normal. "Like… how many people in this town are walking around with tragic spelling mistakes thanks to you?"
"Only a few," he says, eyes sparking. "And they all love me for it. I’m charming. Irresistible, really."
"Mm, I don’t know." I tilt my head. "I’ve resisted you so far."
His smile slips into something lower, slower. "Have you?"
And okay. That? That hits low. Somewhere just under my ribs.
I hold his gaze. "Mostly."
"Guess I’ll have to try harder."
Oh no.
There’s a pause.
A long one.
It crackles. He’s still smiling, but it’s not light anymore. It’s heavy. Charged. His eyes drop to my mouth like he’s thinking about how it would taste, and my whole body reacts before my brain can catch up.
And it’s not just lust. Not just attraction. It’shim.
