Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(53)

Matty and Sutton come from the direction of the drawing room, and she sits in his chair, next to Dare’s station. I didn’t even notice that they had gone back there. Matty coats the inside of Sutton’s arm with a mixture of soap and water before applying the stencil to her skin.

“Check it out,” he says, handing her a handheld mirror.

“Perfect,” she beams. “Let’s do this.”

“I want a tattoo,” I declare suddenly.

“As much as I’d love that—and I would fucking love it a lot—no can do.”

“I’ll do it!” Cordell calls from somewhere in the back. I whip my head in his direction, but I still don’t see him. I didn’t even know he was here.

“The fuck you will!” Dare yells over his shoulder before turning his attention back to me. “You’re drunk. I can’t tattoo you tonight.”

“But Sutton’s drunk, too.” Resorting to tattling to get my way. It’s a new low for me.

“Am not! I had one drink! You had like five. Proceed,” she says to Matty with a wave of her hand. Come to think of it, besides the lemon drop, she did nurse the same drink the whole time.

“Come on, Dare Bear.” I stick out my bottom lip, and he lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused. I need to up my game. “I think I want it riiiiight here,” I say, folding the band of my leggings down dangerously low. Dare’s eyes narrow, and I bite my bottom lip at the look in them. He groans before slipping a finger underneath, slowly pulling them back into place. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and he gives me a knowing look. “You’re always so cold.”

Something dark passes over Dare’s features as his eyes lock onto mine, but he shakes it away. “If you’re serious about it and you still want one tomorrow, we’ll talk. Besides the fact that you could change your mind when your buzz wears off, you’ll probably bleed more and delay your healing process. I’m not doing that to you.” The hand that adjusted my pants has curved around my hip, and even that slight touch has my insides feeling floaty, like a balloon full of helium.

“Fine.”

“Do you know what you want?”

I haven’t thought that far ahead. Instead of admitting that, I say, “I want you to choose.”

“What?” His forehead scrunches up, confusion written all over that pretty face.

“You heard me. I want something that represents me. Something beautiful. I trust you.” As I’m saying it, I realize how true it is. Dare is covered in beautiful. I trust his taste. He’s also insanely talented.

“You sure about that?” Dare asks, his voice a little raspier than before. I nod, looking deep into his eyes to convey my sincerity.

The door dings, effectively breaking the moment. Dare excuses himself to greet the customer, who’s a walk-in, and I opt to hang out with Cordell to pass the time.

“Wanna shoot some pool?” Cord asks, handing me a bottle of beer from the fridge.

“Depends on if you can handle being beat by a girl.”

“I’ll try my best,” Cord says, laughing. I might be exaggerating my skills, but I’m decent. I practically grew up in the shithole bars that Crystal dragged us to while she was on the hunt for men, money, drugs, or a combination of the three. Jess was too young to realize what was going on, so I made it fun for him by letting him pick the songs on the free jukebox and playing pool.

Jess actually got so good that he was hustling grown ass men by the age of seven. They were very drunk men who were shit at pool in the first place, but it was impressive nonetheless. Naturally, Crystal saw an opportunity and tried to use him to her advantage. That’s when I started insisting we stay home. We could scheme and hustle all day long, but I wasn’t going to let her benefit. I never understood why we had to go with her in the first place. I was eleven, but I’d been babysitting Jess since the ripe old age of seven. It didn’t occur to me until later that maybe we were unknowingly part of her scheming. People always felt bad for kids and animals. If only she’d had a dog…

I lean forward and break, making my shot. “I call solids.”

Cord’s eyes widen just a little. “Lucky shot.”

“Totally.” I laugh.

I’m rusty and intoxicated, but I end up winning the first game, which prompts Cordell to declare, “Best two out of three.” He wins the second, and then the third, but it was a close game.

“BOOM!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air. Dare must be finished, because he shows up, looking between the two of us. “I won,” he explains to Dare. I roll my eyes.

“Only because I scratched on the eight ball.”

“Aw, don’t be a sore loser.” He throws an arm around my shoulders, turning his attention to Dare. “Your girl here has mad skills.”

“You have no idea.”

His insinuation, along with the fact that he didn’t deny me being “his girl,” has my stomach flipping with anticipation. As if reading the look in my eyes, Dare reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him.

“You have your keys?” he asks Cordell.

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.”

Dare drags me through the shop, and I practically have to run to keep up. I stop to admire Sutton’s tattoo for half a second before she waves me off, telling me she’ll show me tomorrow. We’re almost to the truck when Dare asks me where my coat is.