“But why?” I prod, inching my hand closer to her legs.

  “Because we all deserve happiness.” She smiles, her entire face lighting up.

  “I’m happy.”

  She burrows her fingers into my hair, and I do everything in my power to not close my eyes and bask in her touch. “I know you are, but what if your happiness is only a small fraction of what you’re missing?” she asks.

  I stare at her, thinking about her words. “Can’t miss what I don’t know, babe.”

  “What would you be doing if you weren’t sitting here with me right now?”

  “I’d be at the bar, a club, or with some woman I plan on never seeing again.”

  She frowns. “That’s sad.”

  “But I’m having a better time sitting here with you, talking and barely touching, than I would’ve had doing any of those things,” I admit, without even thinking about what I’m saying. “You still haven’t told me why you agreed to this yourself. It can’t be only because you believe in happily ever afters and all that mumbo jumbo.”

  She drops her hands from my body, and I instantly miss her heat. “I’ve never been great at dating. I’ve always been too nervous about impressing the other person. I thought this would be great practice for me, too, without all the expectations.”

  “Babe.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not great at dating?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “I’m awkward and have the worst taste in picking the right men.”

  “I haven’t noticed you being awkward.”

  She smiles down at me. “I feel comfortable with you.”

  “You do?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

  She laughs, moving her hand back to my hair, ruffling it between her fingers. “Yeah. We’re just hanging out, pretending to be something so I can help you move toward your forever. I don’t have to worry about you judging me for my lack of putting out. We have a history together, although short.”

  “Can I ask you about…”

  “About my lack of sex?”

  “Have you done anything with a man? Sorry. That’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Her cheeks turn pink as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, Mello, I’ve done things.”

  “So, you’ve kissed someone?”

  She nods. “A little bit more than that.”

  Her words make me proud and sad at the same time. Proud of her for sticking to her guns, which isn’t easy in today’s society. And sad because I know I am never going to experience her completely.

  “In our fake relationship…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we kiss? I mean, maybe I can give you some pointers. We can help each other out instead of it being a one-way street.”

  She laughs softly. “You’d do that to help me out?”

  I nod quickly. “I could be your coach in all things physical, and you can be mine in all the ways of love.”

  It doesn’t hurt to ask, and I fully expect her to tell me to fuck off, but I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t.

  “Maybe… Can I think about it?”

  “Sure. Totally. No pressure. I feel like I’m the only one taking, and I’m a giver.”

  She smirks, running her finger along the side of my face, sending chills down my spine. “I’m sure you are.”

  My dick twitches, and I know we’re entering dangerous territory. “How about those ribs? We should get them cleaned so you’re all set for the night.”

  I need to change the subject and stop thinking about planting my lips on hers. It’s been the only thing on my mind since she walked out of the shop two days ago, which is insane. I’ve never put this much thought into kissing a woman because it’s kissing. Something I’ve done with at least a hundred different people or more. There’d been women I’d been with whom I didn’t even kiss. I wouldn’t allow it because I wasn’t sure where their mouth had been last. The condom kept my dick safe, but there was nothing to keep my mouth protected from whoever’s dick they’d had their mouth wrapped around recently.

  “You don’t have to do it,” she tells me. “I can do it after you leave.”

  “I want to take a look and make sure it’s healing well.”

  “If you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

  She’s acting like it’s a hardship to look at her body, which it’s not. This is the closest I’m going to get to any type of action with Arlo tonight, and I am surprisingly okay and excited about it too.

  “I just need to get some stuff to clean your skin.”

  “Grab a bowl in the kitchen, and soap and towels are in the bathroom, first door down the hall.”

  “On it,” I tell her, brushing my hand against her knee as I rise from the floor. “Don’t move.”

  I go into the kitchen first, grabbing a bowl she had on a towel, drying on the countertop. When I turn around to head to the bathroom, I stop dead.

  Arlo’s lifting her tank top over her head. My breath hitches like I’ve never seen a half-naked woman before, or even Arlo, because I have. With the bra she wore to the shop, there hadn’t been much that was covered.

  My feet finally come unstuck, and I head toward the bathroom, moving faster than before.

  Arlo’s topless.

  Topless.

  Putting a few pumps of soap into the bowl, I add warm water and grab the soap dispenser and a washcloth and towel from the shelf next to the shower.

  I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, wondering who the person is staring back at me. I’ve never hauled ass for a shot at seeing breasts. I don’t even go to strip clubs with my friends because I can get the real thing in person without spending a ton of cash, and with an orgasm at the end.

  By the time I make it back to the living room, Arlo’s on her back, arm over her breasts, cupping one in her hand. “Is this okay?” she asks, looking up at me with such innocence.

  “If you’re comfortable, I’m okay with it,” I tell her, sitting next to her hip on the couch.

  “Nudity doesn’t bother me,” she says softly, staring at me with those green eyes that call to me.

  “Clearly you’re not shy.”

  “Modeling made it impossible for me to be shy or worried about someone seeing my body. When you have to get naked in a room filled with twenty people, you get used to being comfortable in your own skin really fast.”

  My stomach knots at the thought of all those people looking at her, seeing the beauty I see lying before me. “I wouldn’t like that.”

  “Really? You seem really comfortable in your skin too.”

  “No, babe. I wouldn’t like other men looking at your naked body—or women, for that matter.”

  Arlo smiles, blinking slowly. “That’s kind of sweet, but that was my life when I was younger.”

  “I don’t think I could deal.”

  “It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t date much. Men were only after me for my body, having seen the photos online, or they were in the industry. I wanted to find someone who loved me for me before I gave them all of me.”

  “Makes sense. Sit up, baby,” I tell her, holding the towel. “I don’t want to ruin your couch.”

  She does so without question as I fold the towel in half, placing it between her back and the couch. This is going to be messy, and I plan on taking my time when doing it too.

  “Be right back. I need to wash my hands, or else it’s all for nothing.”

  She nods, her eyes following me as I walk back into the kitchen like my ass is on fire. I make quick work of washing my hands, careful to clean them thoroughly before I dare get near her ink.

  I take a few deep breaths, have a short but important conversation with my dick about the importance of the fucker behaving while I’m so close to her. The last thing I need is a boner, especially when I have Arlo being sweet and opening up to me.

  “Do not ruin this for me,” I tell my dick as I scrub my hands together, cleaning between each finger. “I’ll make you pay.”

  “What?” Arlo says from the couch.

  “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Great,” I lie, drying my hands with some paper towels.

  I walk back slower, concentrating on my breathing. Why in the hell did I do this to myself? She could’ve just as easily cleaned it herself. But no. My dumb ass had to offer my own hands, sliding them over her ribs near her breasts. Fucking moron.

  Arlo hasn’t moved. Her hand and arm still cover her breasts, with her stomach and ribs exposed. “Is this okay? Should I lie different?”

  “No. You’re perfect. Just relax and I’ll be gentle.”

  “I know you will,” she whispers, staring up at me with nothing but trust in those green eyes.

  I dip my fingers in the water and hold my hand above her ribs, letting the drops fall onto her battered skin. She stirs when they land on her flesh, but she quickly stills. Her eyes never leave me, always watching as I grab the soap, pumping a few drops on my hands.

  She bites down on her lip, unsure of what I’m going to do.

  I touch her softly, barely letting the tips of my fingers graze over her flesh.

  She sighs and closes her eyes. “That feels so good.”

  “I can do this as long as you want,” I tell her, hating myself for it, too.

  I’m fucking cock-teasing myself. What in the hell has gotten into me? I’ve never been this tender, sweet guy I am right now. It’s like Arlo put some magic spell on me, making me into a man I’ve never been. Making me want to be a man I never thought I could be.

  Get ahold of yourself, fool. You’re a wild beast. A pussy connoisseur. Slayer of bitches. The man every man wants to be and the one every woman wants to be in her.

  “Thank you for this,” Arlo whispers.

  My eyes follow my fingers as I trace the ink, making small circles, carefully coating her skin with soap. “It’s no bother. It looks like it’s healing great. A few more days and it won’t even hurt anymore.”

  “Thank God,” she says. “I haven’t been able to sleep on my side since. I didn’t think this out well enough.”

  “Can’t you sleep on your other side?”

  “My body just rolls that way. I can’t stop myself.”

  “I completely understand. I’m a back sleeper, so the back tattoo was a son of a bitch. I was a miserable prick.”

  “I can only imagine how grumpy you were.”

  I gaze up, my eyes meeting hers. “It wasn’t pretty.”

  She smiles and it meets her eyes, making my chest ache. “You’re really good with your hands.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “Careful, Arlo. I only have so much control, and it’s taking everything in me not to kiss you right now.”

  She pulls her lip between her teeth, holding the corner.

  “Let me finish this, and no more talking.”

  She nods, not letting go of her lip, but she keeps those eyes on me.

  I tear my gaze away, moving my eyes back to her skin, keeping my touch light.

  After adding a little more soap and water, I slow my movements, deciding I’ll enjoy the last time I’ll probably be able to touch her skin. My fingertips glide over every inch, tracing the lines I created and marked her with forever.

  “Carmello,” Arlo whispers as I slow, knowing I’m stealing time.

  “Yeah, babe?” I ask, not looking up.

  “Want to watch a movie with me? Maybe we can cuddle up on the couch and put on anything you want.”

  Cuddle?

  “I’ve had a shit day,” she explains. “I could really use some company tonight.”

  I’d never been a cuddler.

  I’d fucked chicks and very nicely and quickly escorted her or myself to the door, or wherever we were parting ways.

  Cuddling has never been my style.

  But right now, with Arlo’s big, hopeful eyes staring at me and my fingers floating across her skin, I say, “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever will make you happy.” She smiles, and my chest aches, in that same unfamiliar way it did earlier.

  I am fucked.

  11

  My eyes pop open and my heart races, finding a woman wrapped around me, leg thrown over my middle, and arm slung across my chest.

  For a second, I lie there perfectly still, too scared to move and confused about where I am.

  Then it hits me.

  Arlo.

  The movie.

  The cuddling.

  The way she fit perfectly around my body, clinging to me during the scary bits and mindlessly running her fingers across my chest during the rest.

  I liked it.

  I liked it way too much.

  We fell asleep like this, my eyes drifting closed before the movie ended. She’s settled in on her side, tattoo side up, nuzzled between the back of the couch and my body.

  It felt right and as if we’d done this forever. The very fake relationship has started to feel more real than anything I’ve ever experienced before, and in all honesty, it scares the ever-living shit out of me.

  “Mello,” Arlo whispers, her arm tightening across my upper body.

  “Go back to sleep,” I whisper back, squeezing her hip, the place my hand feels most at home.

  “Want me to move?”

  “No, babe, not unless you want to.”

  “I’m so comfy,” she says in a sleepy voice, her arm going limp along with the rest of her. “So very comfy.”

  I turn my head, soaking in her pretty face, studying her features as she lies with her head on my shoulder, eyes closed. I stay like that, watching her until her breathing changes, each inhale growing longer as she slips into a deeper sleep.

  An hour passes while I stare at her in the soft glow of the television, wondering what the fuck I’m doing here, snuggling with a woman I just met and have no hope of ever sinking into.

  It’s as if Arlo has cast some secret voodoo spell over me, and somehow, I allowed it to happen. I’ve been sucked in by the mysterious woman my cousin set me up with, and I’ve gone along for the ride, with my arms up, screaming into the wind at the top of my lungs, letting myself leap before I looked where I was going.

  Leaning forward, I kiss Arlo’s forehead, whispering a few words to her. I smell her skin, memorize the softness of her flesh against my lips, and slide out from under her.

  I’ve already broken my rules. I stayed the night. I cuddled. We most certainly did not have sex. We didn’t even kiss, but for some reason, guilt eats at my insides as I pull on my boots and slip out the front door.

  “Fuck,” I hiss into the early morning air, catching sight of the moon as it starts to set near the tree-filled horizon. Without looking back, I’m on my bike, heading toward home.

  Lily’s waiting for me at the front desk when I arrive at Inked. Her head comes up from studying the appointment book, but there’s no smile on her face. “How did last night go?”

  “Fine. Great.” I smile, stalking into the front of the shop as the door closes behind me. “Nothing interesting to report.”

  Her blue eyes study me as she bites down on the pencil in her hands. “You sure about that?” she asks, the words garbled.

  “Yep,” I reply, keeping any type of tone out of my answer.

  She reaches out, grabbing my forearm as I start to walk by her, and stops me from moving to the back. “And Arlo?”

  I glance down to where our bodies are connected. “Still in one piece and just as I left her last night, I’d assume.”

  “You assume?” She raises an eyebrow. “And how did you leave her last night?”

  “Ask Arlo,” I tell her, yanking my arm free of her grip, and keep moving.

  Lily’s right behind me, her heels clicking away against the tile floor. The shop is still empty except for the two of us.

  This is my week to open, but Lily has taken it upon herself to be here too, probably wanting to bust my balls and question me before the rest of the crew gets here. There is no probably about it—this is her only purpose for being here.

  “I don’t know why you’re so grouchy. You asked me to do this. You asked for my help. You asked for me to set you up with a nerdy girl so you could broaden your horizons beyond your usual barflies.”

  I spin around, stopping in the middle of the workroom, and Lily practically runs into me. “I know I asked for your help, but Arlo and I have history, Lily,” I groan, shaking my head. “She’s almost perfect, and you did this shit on purpose to drive me fucking crazy.”

  Lily tips her head back, a smirk on her face. “Did you sleep with her last night?”

  “Of course not. I’m not going to push her to do something that she doesn’t want or isn’t ready for.”

  “You kiss her?”

  “No, Lily.” I glance at the ceiling and sigh. “Not even a kiss.”

  Lily places her hands on my chest, looking at me like I’m sweet. “You’re a good man, Mello. There’s hope for you yet.”

  “What have you done to me?”

  She giggles and pats my chest. “Nothing. You asked, and I delivered.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re setting me up.”

  She lifts her hands in the air and takes a step back. “I’m doing no such thing. You asked for help, and I’m helping.”

  “You’re ruining me,” I grumble.

  “Nah, cousin. I’m fixing you. We’re rewiring your brain.”

  “My brain worked just fine before Arlo.”

  “Did it, though?” she asks, her voice filled with sarcasm.

  I tilt my head, crossing my arms and continuing to stare at my cousin as she smiles.

  “Hey,” Gigi says, walking into the shop, and she stops dead when she sees us. “Oh boy. What happened?”

  “Mello is falling for Arlo,” Lily tells her, not breaking eye contact with me.

  “Am not,” I argue.

  “He so is,” Lily returns. “Head over heels.”

  “Like fuck, I am.” I growl those words.