Page 20 of Ink Me Three Times
My pencil stills.
He clocked it.
Of course he did.
Timothy doesn’t miss anything when it comes to me.
He was there this morning. Saw her standing in Freddie’s kitchen, hands wrapped around a mug like she was steady.
Like seeing me hadn’t shaken her.
But it had.
Timothy’s voice is still too casual to be innocent. "You know, she’s pretty cute, right? Legs for days. That messy bun? Killer. Got that sexy babysitter vibe going."
I shoot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. "What the hell do you want, Tim?"
He just shrugs, smile widening. "Nothing. Just seems like you two… recognized each other."
Shit.
My jaw tightens.
He knows.
Orthinkshe does.
Doesn’t matter.
He’s fishing. I’m not biting.
"Drop it," I say.
I go back to my sketch like the conversation’s over.
But Timothy doesn’t care.
Instead, he slides off the counter, strolls over with the rest of his sandwich in hand like he’s got nothing better to do.
"You’re gonna tell me you’re not weird about this?"
I don’t answer. Just keep my pencil moving.
He whistles low under his breath. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."
"I said drop it."
"Come on, man." His tone’s still casual, but I hear the edge underneath. "You don’t get rattled. Not like this. Not unless somebody dies or you run out of gloves."
The lead snaps in my grip.
Tim holds up a hand. "Okay. Damn. Touchy."
I toss the broken pencil aside and grab another.
"When’s the last time you went out with someone?" he asks. "And I don’t mean a hookup. I mean someone you actually let in."
"Not your business."
