Chapter 10
The buzzing of my phone cut through the steady hum of the tattoo gun, but I didn’t even need to check the screen. It was her. Again. I ignored it, just like I had the last three times this morning. My client shifted slightly in the chair, trying to peek at their arm.
“Almost done,” I said smiling, dipping the needle to add the last few details. The intricate design was coming together beautifully, the ink settling into the skin just right…
The phone rang again.
1 exhaled sharply through my nose and flipped the damn thing off, still focused on my work. The client didn’t seem to notice, too busy admiring the tattoo in the mirror now that I’d finally pulled away.
“Shit,” she breathed. This is amazing.
1 chuckled, wiping away the excess ink before wrapping it up. “Glad you like it.”
“Like it?” She grinned. “I love it.”
She handed over the cash, still grinning as she studied it in the mirror while I told her how Jexpect, then she left. I leaned back, rolling my shoulders. One client down. Three more to go.
Then Addy walked over, her face already spelling bad news,
She held out her phone. “It’s your mom.”
se care of it till it healed completely and what she was to
1 groaned, grabbing the phone from her and rolling my eyes before pressing it to my ear. “Hello-”
Layla, why the hell aren’t you answering your phone?”
Straight to it, as always.
I sighed. “I’ve been busy, Mom.”
“Busy,” she echoed, her tone cool but firm. “You mean ignoring me.”
I didn’t bother denying it. It had come to my realization years ago that the best thing for my mum and I was distance. Lock us up in
in a room for more than
ten minutes together and all hell would break loose.
“You’re having lunch with us today,” she continued. “It’s important. Be there.”
I frowned “What do you mean, us?”
“It’s for Luke. There’s a journalist doing a feature on him, and we’re all attending the lunch as family. I expect you to be civil.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Civil? Mom, we’re not even a family….”
I started to say
y more, but then it hit me. The words ‘All‘ and ‘Us‘.
My stomach dropped. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“Who else is going?” I hed slowly.
Her pause was brief but telling
Well Adam, of course
Nope. Not happening!
“No, thank you, I’m swamped here. I said flatly. “Bye, Mom.”
ended the call before she could say another word and shoved the phone back into Addy’s hands.
“Ignore her if she calls again,” I told her, my jaw tight. She nodded, but her eyes followed me as I grabbed my station’s disinfectant and furiously started cleaning up.
Chapter 10
Everything okay?” she asked carefully.
I let out a breath, shaking my head.
“Fucking fantastic.”
About three hours later, I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms overhead until I felt that satisfying pop in my spine. Another client done, another solid piece of work, I should probably take a break, grab some food or at least chug some water, but before I could, Xander strolled over, two sketches in hand, the usual cocky smirk tugging at his lips.
Xander was one of those guys who could make anyone look twice. Sharp jawline, dark eyes, tattons crawling up his arms and pecking from under his shim. He had that effortless, brooding, “I might break your heart or your bones” energy that made people either want to sleep with him or run the other way.
I had definitely been in the first category when he was first hired
still remembered the mortifying conversation like it had happened yesterday…..
“You free Friday night?”
“For what?”
“For me.” 1 had smirked, confident, maybe even a little cocky. He was exactly my type, dangerous, tatted, and way too pretty. I figured I was his type too. I’d already pictured us fucking multiple times by then.
“Layla”
The way he had said my name, like he was breaking bad news, was my first clue. Then he had smiled, apologetic but amused.
“You’re gorgeous, babe, but I don’t swing that way, like, at all.”
I had blinked. Processed. Then blurted, Are you fucking kidding me?”
He had laughed. I had groaned. And then we had ordered a round of drinks, and he had become one of my closest friends.
Now, he waggled the sketches at me, dragging me back to the present.
“Alright, hotshot,” he said. “Which one do you like?”
