Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(38)

He eyed me, the bright gold and gray flecks reflected in the black. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

Wringing my hands, I looked warily toward the shop. “We’re getting tattoos?”

Smiling, he tugged at my hand and walked backward in some kind of excitement as he edged toward the shop. “Figured it’d be fitting, right?”

I hesitated.

“Come on, Red.” A razzing tease coated his tone. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little needle.”

He let his gaze travel my body that was not nearly as inked as his, but still, it was blatantly clear I was no stranger to the gun.

“No…I’m just…” I blinked as I searched for the right description. God. This was stupid. What was I supposed to say?

“I’m happy,” I settled on, hoping that would pacify him.

He quirked a brow, his words slowed as if he couldn’t possibly keep up with my craziness. “And you…don’t get tattooed…when…you’re…happy?”

I’d always gotten tattooed for one reason and one reason only.

I did it to cover up what Cameron Lucan left behind.

That feeling stirred through me.

Fight or flight.

Funny how I’d thought I’d been fighting all along. Standing tall. An impenetrable fortress that could never be knocked down.

Really, all I’d been doing was running.

For far too long.

I sucked in a deep breath, hiked up on my toes, and pressed a kiss to his flirty mouth. “Let’s do this.”

Grinning, his excitement reappeared. He turned to pull the door open and gestured for me to go ahead of him. He stopped me just as I was passing the threshold, and he dipped down so he could whisper in my ear. “What are you going to get?”

What was I going to get?

Lyrik was smiling. This complex, complicated, infuriating man who I wanted to dig inside of until I discovered all there was to find. Until the only thing I knew was him.

Or maybe until he turned my reflection back on me.

Yeah. I was going to get something I should have gotten a long time ago.

“How about instead of telling you, I let you see it later?”

His smile curved into a smirk. “Ah, Red, I like the way you think.”

Neither of us had showed the other our new tattoos, the art covered and taped up throughout the rest of our first date. If that’s what you wanted to call it. But it felt like one. Like we were just beginning even though we’d put an expiration date on whatever this was.

Dinner had been easy. The two of us had joked around the entire time, never traversing into the serious topics that seemed to hover unanswered around us.

The truth was, I couldn’t help but feel this niggle of pride at what I’d gotten permanently etched on myself. It was so different than what I typically used to conceal the damage. So different from what I wore as armor.

It was hope.

Because for the first time in a long time, I felt it. Because for the first time in a very long time, someone had taken the time to break that armor down. To really step back and look at me.

Now I held tight to his beautiful body as we rode the streets. Heat comforted like a familiar caress as the wind whipped against our faces.

Lyrik made a few quick turns back in the direction of our apartment building, his movements fluid and skilled. When we neared, he slowed, and his feet came out to balance us as he eased into his spot.

He killed the engine.

Silence swallowed us whole and a hushed anticipation trembled in the heavens.

Or maybe it was my hands and the butterflies that wouldn’t sit still in my belly.

God, this wasn’t me. A bundle of anxious nerves. Not until Lyrik West rode in and changed all the rules.

I hugged him tight one last time, as if I needed to give myself a buoy of reassurance. Slowly, he swiveled a fraction on the seat. Those dark eyes were appraising. As if he could see right through me to every fear I had hiding inside.

Slowly, he unwound my hands that were clamped around his waist and guided me to stand. Never releasing me, he swung his leg over the bike and stood.

Rising to his full height.

Stealing my breath. My thoughts. Overtaking my mind.

I was on such dangerous ground. I could feel it shaking underneath.

He brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. His potency both sweet and severe. “You say the word, and this night ends right here.”

I gazed up at him. My heart rate sped in fear and adrenaline and want. And again, I didn’t want to be afraid. “I don’t want it to end.”

Not at all.

Thoughtful eyes gauged, before he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead where he murmured his promise. “Slow.”

Slow.

Overwhelming gratitude welled in my chest. It was crazy how this intimidating boy could so easily set me at ease.

Giving me time when I’d had no idea until two nights ago just how desperately I was going to need it.

He glanced back as he led me up the stairs. “My place or yours?”

“Yours.”

He turned the key in the lock and led us into the waiting darkness of his apartment. Muted lights from the Savannah street outside his French doors trickled in from below, the living room cast in dancing shadows.

He moved aside. “It’s all yours.”