Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(49)

Still, right from the beginning, there was something I didn’t like about his smile.

He grinned at Jared, stepping closer to us. Someone behind us made a loud comment about him cutting into the line, but he pretended not to hear. “Glad you could make it, Diet T.”

Jared stiffened at the nickname.

I raised my brows, instantly curious. These guys and their nicknames…

“What does Diet T mean?” I asked.

Dean turned a rather greasy smile on me. “Have you met his brother? Isn’t Jared like the diet version of Tryst? Skinnier, less handsome, less smart, less talented. So we call him Diet T.”

Jared looked uncomfortable, and just that easily, Dean went right to my shit list.

“And what’s your nickname?” I asked Dean.

“I’m Mean Dean. And who are you, my lovely?”

“I’m Danika. Where does Mean Dean come from? It sounds like they went easy on you in the nickname department.”

“I don’t remember how the nickname started. So you’re Danika… I’ve heard about you. Going out with both of the brothers, huh? I think I just thought up your nickname! We’ll call you Number One, because you’re the band’s first groupie.”

As he spoke, he gripped Jared’s hand, and I saw a small baggie pass from one man to the other.

I was irate, for more than one reason.

“Quit being an ass,” Jared muttered to his friend.

“Oh, relax. I’m only joking,” Dean said.

It was pretty easy to see where the Mean Dean nickname had come from. He was a vicious motherf*cker, but then again, so was I, if provoked. “You’re awfully clever for a drug dealer,” I told him, my smile sweet, my tone, not so much.

His grin only widened. “I’m not a dealer if I’m giving it away. Want some, Number One?”

“No thank you,” I said through my teeth, stifling the urge to make up a rude nickname for him. There’s nothing more immature than name calling, I told myself firmly. “So you’re just a drug pusher, not a dealer? That’s much better…”

Dean looked at Jared, still smiling. “She’s feisty. I like that. When do I get my turn with her?”

“Sorry, I’m not into chicks,” I told him, deadpan.

That killed his grin, and widened mine.

“She’s got a point,” a laughing female voice said from behind me. “Dean is almost pretty enough to interest me.”

I turned to see a petite, black-haired girl with doll-like features. Her makeup was heavy, ran toward goth, and she was covered in tats, but it was obvious that she had a very pretty face, and a pretty smile.

“Finally going to take me up on my offer, Frankie?” Dean asked.

“I said almost, Dean. And almost isn’t enough for me to deal with a penis.”

Frankie held out a hand to me, giving me a very warm look. “Danika. Tristan told me about you. Nice to meet you. I’m Frankie.”

I shook her hand, trying to smile, though I still wanted to punch Dean in the face. “Nice to meet you. Jared was just telling me about your reality show.”

She wiggled her brows at me, her smile self-deprecating. “Hopefully it doesn’t bomb.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” I reassured her. “Especially if it’s at the Cavendish Casino. That place is hot right now.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. You’ve probably seen some of my work. I’ve done almost all of the ink on Tristan’s back, and his arms. And I’ve done quite a bit of Jared’s, too. Whenever he’s done having a private chat with Dean, I’ll show you.”

I glanced over to where the two men had been, and saw that they’d moved several feet away, and were speaking quietly to each other.

“Jared’s great, but Dean can be a pain,” Frankie said, her voice pitched low.

I nodded. I thought that was putting it nicely.

“So do you have any ink?”

I shook my head, reading from her smile where she was going with the question.

“Is there anything you really want? I’d be happy to help you make all of your tattoo dreams come true.”

I chewed on my lip. I had been thinking about that, especially recently. Something about staring at Tristan’s tattoos way too often had made me start to want my own. “I’ve toyed with the idea of getting a little cherry blossom branch on my back.”

Her grin widened. She clearly sensed a victory. “We’ll have to work on that. I’ll show you some of my designs that will blow your mind. You don’t even have to let my camera crew tape it, though I’d love it if you did.”

I blanched. “TV? I don’t know…”

“It’s not as bad as all that. Just think about it.”

My eyes narrowed on her. “You do this all the time, don’t you?”

She shrugged, a very engaging twinkle in her eye. “I love putting my mark on beautiful people. Call it a personal quirk.”

“Tristan’s ink is the best I’ve seen.”

“Why thank you. Have you seen Jared’s?”

“I haven’t gotten a close look at any of it.”

“But you have gotten a close look at Tristan’s? Interesting…”