"If you don't love it, that's cool, too," he said.
She was silent for a moment, then she took a deep breath. "I'm just not sure I'm into this idea anymore, you know?" she said.
"Hey, it's your back," he said lightly. "We can work up something else, incorporate or repurpose that L into a new design. Whatever you want."
They'd both done plenty of tattoo cover-ups over the years, inking a new design over an older, unwanted image.
"Let me think about it for a bit. See if anything comes to me," Blue said. She slid the sketchbook toward him and gave him a little punch on the bicep. "Thanks for thinking of me, though. This would have been an awesome solution if I was still into it."
He was disappointed. Surprisingly so. He'd really wanted to do this for her, but he forced a smile and stood.
"Better start on the food or you'll be hassling me soon," he said.
"I live to hassle you. You know that. It's my calling in life."
He risked another punch by ruffling her hair, giving in to the urge to touch her.
"Never mess with my hair, Oliveira," she said, and he had to dodge as she tried to cuff his shoulder.
"Too slow, Sullivan. Way too slow."
He shook off his disappointment as he headed for the kitchen. He would have plenty of opportunities to give Blue something beautiful she'd have forever. There was no urgency, no need for him to feel rebuffed.
No reason at all.
Five weeks later, Blue finished shading the last line of the tattoo she'd been working on all day and wiped the excess ink from her client's shoulder. A truck driver by trade, Billy had requested a steampunk tattoo that gave the illusion that the flesh on his shoulder and upper arm had been stripped back to reveal bio-mechanical underpinnings.
"Okay. We're done," she said, and his body relaxed beneath her hand.
No matter how big and strong a guy was - and Billy was both those things - no one liked having a needle jabbed into his skin up to three thousand times per minute. She patted his shoulder reassuringly.
"You did great."
"Can I see?"
"There's a mirror on the wall," she said. "Sit up slowly."
Guys in particular didn't like to admit when they felt a little woozy after a long session. Blue backed up a couple of steps and rolled her shoulders as Billy crossed to the mirror to inspect his new body art.
"Dude. That is freaking awesome," he said, the tentative smile on his face quickly turning into an outright grin.
Blue loved seeing that look on her clients' faces. It meant she'd done her job, and then some.
"Okay. Wound care," she said. "I'm going to put some antiseptic cream on it and a dressing … "
Blue talked him through his post-tattoo wound care as she covered his shoulder with a surgical dressing, making sure Billy was paying attention and not simply nodding along. Then she escorted him to reception, where the first thing she registered was Eddie talking to a client at one of the display cases, the two of them pouring over a series of sketches Eddie had made.
She allowed herself one look at his lean, muscular body clad in dark denim and a black tank top before handing Billy over to Hans and heading to the staff room to recharge before going home. The image of Eddie's hard ass outlined in indigo denim stayed with her every step of the way.
She'd been on strict Eddie rations ever since the afternoon of the soccer game. Every time she thought about that day, she got a little freaked out about how easily, how effortlessly she'd crossed a line she'd always held sacred. At the time, it hadn't felt as though there was any other option than to take the edge off the burning need she'd felt for him - and that scared the crap out of her. Which was why she'd kept a very tight leash on herself for the past month.
If Eddie was in the room, she kept her eyes to herself. If she could avoid touching him, she did. Somehow, though, keeping such a tight rein on her desires only seemed to amplify them. A wonderful, torturous irony. She figured it was a bit like telling herself not to think about something - naturally, the first thing she did was think about the taboo subject or object.
Or person.
Policing her behavior where Eddie was concerned meant she was constantly thinking about him. Would he be in the staff room during her break, and therefore should she go in there? Was it smart to accept his invitation to hit the gym after work? Should she say yes to going to the movies with him, Raf, and Maggie? Before the accident, she wouldn't have thought twice about the answer to any of those questions. Spending time with Eddie had made her happy, therefore she'd done it.
These days, everything felt a lot more complicated, and her life had become an obstacle course, a snakes and ladders game of self-control and self-indulgence that inevitably left her feeling both thwarted and guilty.
Renarto and Corey were hanging in the staff room when she entered, and Blue helped herself to a can of Red Bull from the fridge before sitting at the kitchen table with the other guys.
"How'd your sleeve go?" Corey asked, running a hand over his buzz-cut black hair.
In his mid-twenties, he was a relative newcomer to the Ink family in that he'd been on board only three months.
"Client is happy, therefore I am happy," she said before taking a big swig of Red Bull.
"How many hours in the chair?" Renarto asked.
"Seven."
"Oh, man," Renarto said, rubbing the back of his neck in sympathy.
"Yeah. Got to admit, I'm feeling it," Blue said.
She would never have admitted as much if Eddie had been in the room - he was too damned solicitous as it was - but she was amongst friends here.
"I had a guy last week who would have kept going if I hadn't cramped up," Corey said. "Took my girlfriend an hour to get the knot out of my shoulder."
Blue gave a low groan as she imagined how good it would be to have someone working on the knots in her shoulders right at this moment.
"You're a bastard, Corey," she said.
He laughed. "Sorry. Perks of co-habitation, man. You should try it some time."
"But I don't want to live with you," Blue said, poker-faced.
"Hey, the invitation is open, any time," Corey said, a cheeky grin on his face. "My girlfriend thinks you're hot." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Blue swigged the last of the Red Bull and crushed the can. "It's a tempting offer. But I couldn't possibly take you up on it without sampling the wares first." She rolled her shoulders suggestively. "I'm pretty sure ten minutes of solid massage would do the trick."
Corey's laugh boomed out in the room. Renarto shook his head.
"You have no shame," he said.
"Shame is for pussies." She gave Corey her best lost-puppy-dog eyes. "I would totally return the favor the next time you were crippled with pain."
"Sure you would," Corey said.
"How's this - I'll buy you lunch on Monday in exchange for five minutes on just my left shoulder," Blue said.
Corey was about to respond when she felt the warm weight of someone's hands land on her shoulders. She didn't need to look to know it was Eddie - her body went from zero to a hundred in the space between one heartbeat and the next, every inch of her skin coming to life.
This was what she got for sitting with her back to the door.
"You're a massage mooch, you know that?" Eddie said, amusement rich in his voice.
"It's not mooching if it's part of a barter," she said.
His thumbs pressed into her trapezius muscles, digging into the taut flesh. She had to bite her lip to hold back a groan of pure pleasure. The combination of Eddie's touch and the release of tension was nothing short of climax-inducing.
Which meant she had no business letting him touch her like this. She should call a halt to this little exercise in masochism right this second.
"That the spot?" he asked, his left thumb zeroing in on a knot that made her twitch and squirm beneath his hands.
"God. Yes." Her hands clamped onto the edge of the table as her head dropped forward to allow him greater access to her neck and shoulders.
Eddie's laugh was so low she felt it more than heard it, the sound rumbling along her nerve endings as he dug into her muscles with his clever hands.
"I've got a client in five," he warned her. "Don't get too comfortable."
There wasn't much chance of that happening. Frankly, she was having trouble controlling her breathing, his touch was so distracting, so compelling. Heat rushed south, pooling between her thighs as he worked his way along her shoulders to her neck. The press of his thumbs into the hollow at the base of her skull was so erotic she could feel her nipples hardening against the soft fabric of her bra.
This was why she'd said no to his offer to finish the tattoo on her back - being this close to him, having his hands on her was nothing short of torture. There was literally no way she could endure the many hours of physical intimacy required for Eddie to complete the design he'd sketched for her. Far better, she'd figured, to say no to a truly beautiful design than to sentence herself to endless sensual torment. Even though rejecting Eddie had hurt, too. She'd hated seeing the disappointment in his eyes when he'd clearly put so much time and effort into the sketch.