“He what?” Now he sounded livid.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I replied. His hair kept falling in his eyes and he kept blowing it out of the way, puffing out gusts of air. Every time he did, it would flop back in place, covering his left eye. I ran my fingers through the disobedient strands. It was soft. I wanted to do it again.

One of Hayden’s hands was on my hip, holding me steady, while the other was still touching my tattoo. He froze. I dropped my hand, and his hair flipped forward in rebellion.

“Sorry.”

He unfurled out of his crouch with a fierce expression. “Don’t apologize for touching me.”

Hayden was close, invasively so. There was so much raw heat occupying the space around him that it was hard to breathe. I felt enveloped by him. He was always so tightly wound, buzzing with pent-up energy. I imagined when he let it out it was a sight to behold.

“Sorry.”

He gave me a look.

“For apologizing. It won’t happen again.” I bit the inside of my lip to stop from smiling.

We stared at each other, some strange shift taking place. I wasn’t sure what was happening between us, but it felt like whatever our tentative friendship was transforming into, the process wasn’t reversible. Like a chemical reaction, there was no going back once the catalyst had been added.

“I can fix this. I can cover it up.” His thumb moved over the tattoo again, reminding me how close it truly was to places I shouldn’t be fantasizing about Hayden touching.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Fuck that noise. This tattoo is a travesty. If I’m putting more ink on you anyway, we might as well start by covering over this one.” He took a small step back. “And for future reference, this is your hip.” He tapped the spot four inches diagonally to the right, then swept his finger down to the heart. “And this is about an inch shy of your pelvis.”

“Thanks for the anatomy lesson.” I went for sarcasm, but it came out sounding wanton. An anatomy lesson from Hayden would be unforgettable, I was sure.

“For you? Anytime.” He looked dangerously serious. “Now can I fix this shit or what?”

My hesitation was short-lived. Covering over the old tattoo might help erase some of the bad memories associated with it. I wouldn’t have that painful reminder of Connor’s disapproval anymore. “Fine, but you have to do it tonight, because I want to get the back piece under way as soon as possible.”

“Do you really think you can order me around?” He crossed his arms over his chest in a show of dominance.

“I have more cupcakes in my apartment. You can have them if you fix this tonight.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

“Great, let’s do it.” I clapped my hands together with genuine enthusiasm. Even if it was a small tattoo, Hayden would be touching me for an extended period of time.

“What do you want?”

Hayden had mentioned a ladybug last time. Those brought back memories of my mother, not all of which were necessarily good. “Um . . . I don’t know. Maybe I could look at one of your albums.”

“I have a better idea.” He held up a finger and left the room.

When he came back he was holding a file folder with my name artfully scrawled across the front. He slid out a piece of paper; on it were a number of small sketches. There were several blossoms in various shades of pink, all of which were beautiful. But what grabbed my attention was the adaptation of the cupcake drawing he’d gone crazy over when I’d first showed him my design.

“When do I get to see my sketch?” I asked, wanting assurance he wasn’t putting it off indefinitely.

“Right after I fix your botched home brew.”

He was way too complacent. But then he must have planned it this way, coercing me into a small tattoo in order to see the design I wanted.

I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said with contrived innocence.

“I could still talk to Chris about this,” I threatened, moving toward the door. It irked me that he tried to manipulate me, and that part of me enjoyed the manipulation.

That sobered him. “Settle down there, kitten.” Hayden threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me close, the intimacy unexpected. He was such a contradiction–hard one minute, soft to the point of vulnerability the next.

“I need to make sure you’re serious and that you can handle this. You’re asking for a lot of ink. Usually there’s a story behind something so significant, but you don’t seem all that keen to tell it.” When I stayed silent, he gave me a wry smile. “I want to be the one who puts it on you. So if you’ll let me fix the tattoo you have, I’ll feel better about inking your entire back.”

“You’re manipulative.”

My threat to go to Chris was empty. I wanted it to be Hayden as much as he seemed to want the same. Part of the draw came from Hayden’s ability to ease the ache inside with his presence alone. I craved the hours of relief that would come from being near him. I wanted a chance to heal, to transfer what was inside onto my skin.

“And you’re cute when you’re mad. Now drop your pants.” He stepped back and waved his hand in the direction of my crotch.

“Pardon?” I blushed, and then blushed some more.

“Your pants, they’re in the way. I can’t work on you like that.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You’re asking me for a full back tattoo. Which means you’re going to be naked from the waist up, alone with me in a room, for the better part of twenty hours, and you’ve got hang-ups about dropping trou’ for a little one above your pubic bone?”

“Can I leave my underwear on?”

His brow furrowed, and then he laughed. “I don’t need you to take them off, I just need them below your hips so I have enough room to work. Unless you want to take them off. I’m not opposed.”

“Of course you’re not.” Considering how fitted they were, getting my pants over my hips took some effort, even though the button was loose and the zipper was down. My underwear and half my butt were on display. I didn’t think I could be any more embarrassed. I sat down in the tattooing chair, hoping I had given Hayden enough room to work without putting on a show.

He maneuvered around me on a rolling chair. “I’m going to suggest some looser clothes when we start sessions for the back piece. Constrictive clothing tends to make things more difficult.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

He suppressed a smirk while I watched him prepare his station. He donned a pair of latex gloves, then set out a razor, a spray bottle of solution, several small cloths, a new needle in a cellophane package, his tattoo machine, the ink, and finally the design.

“All set?” he asked.

I gripped the armrests. “Good to go.”

Hayden ran a gloved finger over the old ink before he sprayed the solution on my skin. He wiped it down, then removed the plastic guard from the razor.

“Will you have to do that on my back?” I asked as he passed the blade over the area.

“No, this is just perfunctory.” His head was bowed, his brow creased in concentration. “It’s a small tattoo. I’m making sure the area is clean, but you’ve, uh—” He coughed. His tongue ring clicked against his viper bite. “—taken care of that for me.”

A sensual smile appeared as he wiped the site with a cloth. I looked away, unable to handle the flirting when I was so exposed.

“Wait! I didn’t even make a decision,” I said when he picked up the transfer.

“I can make it for you.”

I knew without asking which one he would choose. “Don’t you think it’s kind of juvenile?”

“A cupcake right here?” He traced the old tattoo. “No. I don’t think it’s juvenile. I think it’s sexy.”

When he said it like that, looking at me the way he did, it was hard to find a reason to disagree. It was the tattoo I’d wanted originally. No one could tell me no anymore. He waited for my approval before he sprayed the area again and pressed the stencil to my skin.

He peeled it away slowly and inspected the placement. Satisfied, he handed me a mirror and turned to his workstation. Hayden held up the cellophane-wrapped needle for me before he broke open the package and assembled his machine. He worked with skilled precision, moving from one task to the next with efficiency. The session would be over far more quickly than I liked.

“Ready?” he asked as he swiveled to face me.

“Definitely.” I was all in now. The opportunity to cover over one of the many points of contention between Connor and me presented too much of an allure. Connor’s reaction to the black heart had caused the first fissure in our relationship. The cupcake would hide this reminder that he and I might not have been the match I originally believed us to be.

Hayden turned on music before he started, the beat a complement to the hum of the tattoo machine. He dipped the needle into the ink and pressed lightly against my skin. It didn’t hurt the way it had the first time. Initially it stung, but soon the sensation hovered between mild irritation and pleasure. He was careful as he worked; one hand splayed out over my lower abdomen while he traced the lines of the stencil. His touch was gentle, a soothing counterpart to the bite of the needle.

“Everything okay?” The hot sting was briefly eclipsed by the cool swipe of the cloth as Hayden wiped away the residual ink.

“It’s fine, hardly hurts at all.”

The drone of the tattoo machine started up a few seconds later and Hayden resumed tattooing. He asked me about school, keeping up a steady stream of conversation while he outlined the design and filled it in with color. I told him about my program and the class I was teaching. I avoided his questions about my advisor and the content of my thesis paper. The revisions had been sent to Professor Calder. All I could do was hope he was satisfied. The alternative was too disheartening to consider.