Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Her mouth drops, but she recovers quickly. “You don’t want Boss to do it?”
I shake my head, and she looks down at the book in front of her. “Sure, Gunner’s got time. I’m assuming you’re getting something small so it will be quick. Come on, follow me.”
We go a few steps, and she stops to look at me. “You know Boss is going to lose his shit, right?”
I jut my chin at her. “He’s not the boss of me.”
She just laughs. “Okay, this should be good. Come on.”
She knocks on a door and pushes it open. “Gunner, you have a walk-in.”
I walk in the door, and he points at me, not even trying to hide his surprise. “Virgin, what are you doing here?”
Are you kidding me right now? “My name is Lexi, and I’m here to get a tattoo.”
He crosses his arms over his barrel of a chest. “A tattoo, huh?”
I nod my head.
The man named Gunner looks at the woman standing next to me. “You can go, I got this.”
She laughs and leans against the door frame. “Oh no, there’s no way I’m missing this.”
Gunner shakes his head and stalks toward me. He wraps his massive hand around my arm and tries to pull me to the door. I jerk from his hold. “What are you doing?”
He puts his hands on his hips. “You want a tattoo or what?”
I match his stance. “Why else would I be here?”
He chuckles like he knows something I don’t. “Fine. Follow me.”
He walks out of the room, and I follow him with the woman right behind me.
I know where he’s going before we reach it, and I pull my shoulders back to prepare for whatever I’m about to see.
“What’s up?” I hear Ben say.
I haven’t cut the corner yet, and Gunner says, “I have a walk-in and thought I’d ask you if you want it.”
“Hell, no,” Ben says, and when I walk into his room, he slams his mouth shut and looks between Gunner and me, ignoring the giggling woman behind us. “What the fuck, Gunner?”
He holds his hands up in front of him. “What? I’m not risking you cutting my hands off for touching her.”
Ben grits his teeth. “Get the fuck out. Both of you.”
Alice whines behind me. “Boss, you’re no fun.”
“Out!” he says again, pointing toward the hallway.
Gunner chuckles as he walks past me and squeezes my shoulder. “Good luck!”
A growl comes from Boss, and I move in front of him because he looks like he’s about to kill his friend. “Ben, stop. What’s your problem?”
He shuts his door and turns on me with an angry glare. “Did you come here to get a tattoo from someone else? From Gunner?” he spits out.
“Yes, why do you care?”
He hovers over me, enunciating each word. “I think I told you what would happen if another man touched you.”
I start to laugh and then stop. “Gunner is your best friend, like a brother. I don’t think you’ll kill him.”
He gives me a smirk. “You wanna bet?”
I just shake my head. “So do you have time to give me a tattoo or not?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You really want one?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve had it drawn out for a while but never felt brave enough.”
He holds his hand out, and I pause for a second, unsure.
He searches my eyes and must see the uneasiness I’m feeling. He waits patiently, hand still out, palm up. “It’s okay.”
I nod and pull the paper from my pocket. I take my time opening it and then hand it over to him.
His eyebrows raise, and he holds it up. “This is beautiful. Did you design it?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I lift my head to him. “I did.”
“Where did you learn to draw like this?”
“I’m minoring in art in college.”
He holds the paper in his hands and leans back against the counter. “What are you majoring in?”
“Marketing.”
He nods. “So tell me about this.”
I look at the paper in his hands, and even though I can’t see the drawing, in my mind I can see it plainly, but I press my lips together.
He looks at the drawing, and I shrug my shoulders. “Do you always interrogate people before you tattoo them?”
He steps toward me. “Don’t do that. Talk to me.”
I blurt out a laugh. “Right, talk to you. Like you’ve done for me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, making sure not to crumple the paper in his hand. “Hit me. What do you want to talk about?”
“I want to know about you.”
“Why?” he asks, completely perplexed by the idea that I’m asking about him.
But I just smirk at him. “Humor me.”
“I work here. I’m a member of the Exiled Guardians—”
I interrupt him with a roll of my eye. “I’m not asking you what you do. Tell me about you. How did you get into tattooing? Tell me about your family. Why Whiskey Run?”