More Than Lies (More Than #1)(128)

“Well, don’t bring my sex life up then.” He turns again. This time he grabs a half-drunk bottle of water, twists the cap off, then takes a long swig. “You’re not getting out of this conversation. Spill your shit. I know you aren’t getting laid for the lack of bitches trying. Who was that one last month? The blonde. She was definitely trying hard to get into your pants.”

“She isn’t a bitch.” I grab the nearly empty bottle of water from his hand, downing the rest.

“I didn’t say she is a bitch. I was just referring to her as a woman.” He looks at me like I’m the stupid one. He’s unbelievable at times.

“Then say, woman or chick or whatever. You don’t have to call every woman a bitch, man. Jesus.” I don’t know how Taralynn deals with his mouth. “Her name is Roxanne. She’s one of the interns that I’m supervising through the end of December, and she is just a friend and neighbor. I have no interest in a relationship with her.”

“She does. Or at least has an interest in your dick.” He laughs, but I don’t find this subject funny at all. Before I’m able to tell him to leave it alone, Taralynn’s voice catches both of our attention causing us to turn our heads in her direction.

“Goddammit, Kenny, this is a workplace, not a fucking playground.” From the look of it, Kenny and another guy—I don’t know—were just tossing a foam football back and forth inside the open space here in the shop. Kenny must have bumped into Taralynn when she was walking through. She shoves at his back, forcing him to stumble forward. He and the other guy look at her with stunned expressions plastered across their faces. “Take that shit outside. No, better yet, take that shit home if you want to play like five-year-olds instead of working.”

I glance at my brother with an eyebrow raised. He equally looks shocked and perhaps even a little scared of his girlfriend’s actions.

“Great, now your colorful mouth has rubbed off on an angel.” I shake my head. Taralynn is not one to cuss. She’s also never one to fly off the handle and go off on anyone either. “Precious,” I call out the pet name I started calling her when she was about five.

She looks over at us. First, at Shawn, then when her eyes land on mine, she forces a smile. This isn’t good. Taralynn isn’t happy. Not even a little bit.

After a beat she heads over, stopping next to me.

She’s dressed in light colored blue jeans and a black sleeveless tank top that is cut low in the front. Taralynn is well-endowed, so it’s impossible—even for me—not to notice all the cleavage she has on show today. Her blonde waves are longer than usual, so the length helps to cover them up somewhat. She is a beautiful woman, and I love her deeply, but in a far opposite way than my brother does. She and Trent came into my life a long time ago. He used to drag her everywhere we went, so somewhere along the way, I started feeling like a protective brother toward her.

She’ll always be a precious, sweet girl to me, and it bugs me that Trent isn’t here to watch her blossom into the strong woman I see her becoming.

“Hey,” she whispers as her features soften.

“You okay?”

“Just fine.” Another forced smile emerges from her lips. She looks over at Shawn. “Can we talk in the office?”

“Uh . . . yeah,” he says, sounding a bit unsure of himself, which is unlike him. Without looking at me, he tells me, “Be back in a minute.” Then he stands following behind his girlfriend.

“What’s up with those two?” I ask Kenny, one of the other tattooist, when they’re out of earshot. He bends down, picking up the soft football from the floor.

“Man, who fucking knows?” He shakes his head as I sit up, reaching for the wrapping material on Shawn’s tray. I’ve watched him do it plenty of times, so it’s no problem to wrap myself. “They tip-toe around everything with each other. With everyone else, they act like they’re pissed off at the world.”

He walks to his station, tossing the ball on the counter as I wrap my leg. When I’m finished, I stand and pull up my jeans.

A loud bang comes from the back of the shop where the office is located at. Seconds later music flows out into the studio from the speakers on the walls. I chuckle, shaking my head. Something tells me their dry spell is officially over. But I don’t stick around to find out. Time for me to head home. And back to an empty apartment.

The pressure in the center of my chest didn’t so much as lift a little bit while I was sitting in Shawn’s chair. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I like to think I’m a strong person, both physically and mentally, but this, these feeling inside me, will start to seep out, will start to affect my job if I don’t find another method soon to take the edge off.

MORE THAN MEMORIES is now available and is a standalone romance.