Page 73 of Bullet
He doesn’t have to tell me who the “someone” is. It’s Bullet.
“But I’m working,” I point out, even though excitement rolls through me.
“We will be fine for an hour without you. You are entitled to a lunch break, you know?” he says as he wipes at the dude’s tattoo.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, well, do you want me to pick you guys up anything before I go?”
“I’ll wait until I’m done, unless he needs a break. Do you want anything, Hendrix, or are you good to keep going?” Midnight asks the guy on his table.
“I’m good,” Hendrix mumbles, making me suck in a breath.
Holy shit.
I recognize that voice.
He’s Hendrix fucking St. James from Three Bad Habits. One of my favorite rock bands.
I knew that Midnight had a famous client today and that everything was supposed to be hush, hush, but damn.
Midnight looks over at me and raises a brow. I bite my lip to stop myself from gushing.
Holy shit. Would it be too much to ask for his autograph?
“You good, Harlee?” Midnight asks, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Yep. Solid. Happy tattooing.” I rush out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
Leaning against it, I cringe, mortification rushing through me.
They say never meet your heroes, and now I know why. Not because Hendrix was rude or anything, but because I just made a fool of myself.
Jerico rounds the corner and stops when he sees me.
“Whatcha doing, Harlee?” he asks in a teasing tone.
“Oh, just getting lunch orders.”
He chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Let me guess. You got a little-tongue tied with the customer in there.”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure it’s happened to all of us when we see him for the first time.”
“For some reason, that makes me feel better.”
“You’re welcome. Now I came back here to get you. There is a guy out front waiting on you.”
I can’t help but smile. “Cool. Thanks.”
I head out front, and my smile grows when I see him.
Mine.
He’s all mine.
