The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos #3)(56)

Dred laughed. “If only I had that much control over my schedule. Was meant to fly straight back to Toronto but did a trade with the guys so I could fly through here today.”

“What was the trade?’ Trent asked as he turned the black baseball cap on his head around so it faced the right way.

“We were meant to pitch in to have the garden landscaped this summer at the group home we grew up in, now I’m footing the bill while they work on a new arrangement for one of our songs.”

“Was it worth it?” Trent asked seriously.

Dred looked over to where Pixie was laughing with a group of women at the desk. “Yeah,” he said. “Worth every nickel.”

“We’re friends now, right? So I can say shit that pisses you off and you’ll get over it, right?”

Dred had been waiting for this moment and knew what was coming. Pixie smiled at him from across the room and suddenly it didn’t matter what Trent needed to say. “Sure,” he replied.

“Be careful with her. It’s not my place to tell you what I know. But, well . . . it took her a long time to get over whatever happened before Cujo and I found her in that doorway one morning.”

Dred was momentarily confused. With the tilt of Trent’s head, he could have sworn Trent meant the doorway to Second Circle. “When you say found her? Like she was waiting for a tattoo one morning, or sleeping there?”

Trent’s easy demeanor changed. “Forget I said anything. It’s her story, not mine. Just don’t . . . don’t be that guy. She’s my kid sister in every way that counts. Everything about you is—f*ck—up until meeting Harper—shit. Don’t hurt her.” Trent took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair before placing it back on.

Dred understood what Trent was saying and, more importantly, why he was saying it. He got what it meant to redefine family. He only had to look at his own living situation. “I hear you. If I could make you promises about where this is going, I would. But I can’t.”

The idea of Pixie sleeping not ten feet from where he was sitting rubbed up against his own memories. Nights he’d spent sleeping in friend’s garages or living rooms while his mom worked the streets and took strange men back to the tiny apartment they lived in. Why hadn’t Pixie told him any of that? In fact, he realized, she hadn’t shared much of her previous life with him beyond her real first name.

He looked at Trent who was eying him coolly. “Look,” he said, choosing his words carefully, because he could feel the weight of their importance, “I want this. And I think she does too. We’ve got to figure out how to be in a relationship with each other.”

Trent frowned for another moment before smiling again. “Fine. Go. We’ll manage. But next time we’re in L.A., you can take me to that sushi place again. Your treat.”

Dred walked to Pixie to pay. He handed her his credit card. “When you’ve run this through, we’re leaving.”

“We are?” She cocked her head and smiled flirtatiously.

“Yes, Snowflake. And you and I are going to take the fastest route between here and naked.”

Cujo groaned beside him. “Oh my God. You made my f*cking ears bleed.”

Pixie laughed and settled Dred’s bill, and, with the help of a taxi, made that happen in what felt like no time at all.

*

Pixie placed her key in the door to the apartment, but it swung open, ripping the key from her fingers. She tripped forward, but Dred caught her before she crashed into Lia who looked as shocked as she felt.

Pixie felt the laughter bubble up inside her. “Oh my gosh, Lia. I’m sorry.”

Lia looked over Pixie’s shoulder and obviously seeing Dred there, grinned at her. “No worries, Pix. I popped home to change. I’m going to the studio to help them catch up. Hey, Dred.”

“I shouldn’t have bailed.” She turned to Dred. “I should go back.”

“No,” Lia said gently. “We got this . . . and you got this.” She gave Dred a playful look up and down. “I think you got the better end of the bargain. I won’t be back for hours. Toodles.”

Dred laughed. “Well, that was subtle.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and nuzzled her neck. They stepped into the apartment and Dred closed the door. “I have an idea, want to play a game?”

As playful as he sounded, self-preservation stopped her from jumping in with a resounding yes. “What kind of game?” she asked, turning in his arms.

His lips descended on hers, taking the breath from her body as they teased hers. She opened for him and swallowed his groan.

Dred pulled away from her, dropped the bag he’d been carrying, and took his leather jacket off. “For every article of clothing we take off each other, we get to ask a question.”

Pixie’s stomach sank a little. There was so much about her past she didn’t want to revisit because doing that with him would destroy her. She could feel the blood leave her face.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her into his arms, “I didn’t mean to freak you out. We don’t have to play.”

Pixie stood for a moment looking out beyond the glass panels of the balcony. Sunlight rippled across the water. She was safe here. With him. In her own home.

“No. Let’s try it,” she said resolutely. “But if I hate it, can we stop?”