Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 123825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“I like the way he’s got his elbow on his knee and his head down like that. It’s like he’s thinkin’,” he said, studying Dev’s work. The whole design was amazing. The angel’s body fit in the center of his back. The angel was on one knee, his elbow resting on the other with his forehead leaning on his fist. He was cool as shit on his own, but it was the angel’s wingspan that truly made this design remarkable. Dev seriously knew how to work an ink gun. The wings encompassed older tattoos, which he couldn’t tell were ever there, and spanned from one shoulder to the other. The whole tattoo took up the upper half of his back.
“We gotta wash it,” Dev said, getting to his feet. For some reason, that was always the suckiest part for him. He stayed still, letting Dev do his thing. “So, gettin' a dog means y’all are what? Like together, together?”
Keyes kept his head bent, studying the lines on the linoleum at his feet. “I don’t know. He’s pushin’ for that.”
“When am I gonna meet him?” Dev asked, and he had to concentrate on the words not the sting coming from his back.
“I don’t know. I can’t see how it’s gonna work.”
“It’s worked for a while,” Dev said, bending around to look him in the face.
“Yeah, but he wants more. That’s the part I don’t see happenin’.”
“More’s not always bad, buddy.”
Keyes looked over his shoulder as Dev gently applied an ointment over the design.
“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. We’re young, but we’ve been club our whole life. I get that at some point life’s gotta open up—especially for you. You’re never gonna be able to mix business with pleasure even with your fuckin’ old man dead.”
“I wish they were more like you,” he said quietly, talking about his brothers as he turned back to the front. Honestly, it was beginning to feel like his heart was being ripped apart every time he had to leave Alec and keep their relationship hidden from everyone else in his life.
Hell, he spent more time with Alec than he’d spent with anyone, including Dev, in his whole life. Keyes was proud that a guy like Alec wanted to spend time with him. He had even started catching glimpses of the future Alec kept rambling on about. He resented the idea of club business picking back up and taking more of his time, the time he spent with Alec.
On the other hand, if he wanted to be what Alec needed, he had to start putting some serious time in at the tire shop. He had to recover financially, which meant he had to be there to make it all happen. Between the club and his business, he didn’t see how he’d have any free time ever again.
“Man, this is gonna be the shit. Keep it covered through the night,” Dev instructed. Keyes sucked in a breath when the cool clear wrapping hit his skin.
“I thought it was like an hour,” he said when Dev pushed back again to reach for Keyes’s T-shirt.
“Changed it. Had a client get a badass infection.”
Keyes rose, picking up the mirror again, getting a good look at the tattoo one last time. It really was already perfect. He placed the mirror on the chair and took the T-shirt. Slowly and carefully, he pulled it on then reached for his wallet. He dropped five hundred dollars on the seat.
Dev looked down at the cash then back at him as if he were flat ass crazy. “What’s that for? I ain’t takin’ that.”
“Sure you are. You were here all day,” he replied, tucking the wallet back in his back pocket. “It ain’t anywhere close to how much it’s worth and you know it.”
“Not takin’ your money,” Dev argued, picking up the cash as he circled around the chair coming toward him. “Mom wants to know if you’re comin’ over for Thanksgiving.”
“I’m gonna say probably not. We cook a lot,” he said, grinning as he backed out of the office. Dev thrusted the folded bills and a box titled Ink Oil into his chest.
“You ain’t a cook,” Dev countered incredulously, letting the items tumble from his hands, leaving Keyes to scramble to grab the box as he let the cash hit the floor.
“Yeah, he cooks and I clean,” he replied, twisting around, grabbing his coat off the rack in the front lobby. At the front door of Fox’s shop, he was suddenly hauled backward by his shirt. Dev shoved the money into the waistband of his underwear. The tenderness of his back held him captive, allowing Dev to win the battle of the money.
“Not takin’ your money. Let that heal, then we’ll keep goin’. I want to shade it in,” Dev said and shoved him out the door with a boot to his ass.