Serious Ink (9 page)

“That’s great.” At the party, Zoe hadn’t noticed any sign of the injury Sam had sustained to one arm – just the tattoo Abby had inked over it, the dark design masking most of the scar.

“What about you – how did the apartment visit go yesterday?”

Zoe’s stomach knotted instantly. “Not so great.” Briefly, she described the tour she’d been given.

“That’s too bad, but at least you tried. I’m sure your brother and his fiancée will appreciate that.”

“Yeah.” Zoe almost kept talking, thinking not of Paul and Britney, but of Noah. She bit her tongue at the last second, though. There was no need to ask Abby whether she was crazy for considering the offer Noah had made her.

She knew she was.

Noah’s apartment was just like his car: nice. Newish. Not over the top, but better than where she lived. All those facts registered in the nanosecond it took him to answer and open the door after she knocked.

“Hi,” she said, unable to muster more than the single word as she stood at the threshold, clutching her purse.

He was motionless for a moment, eyes locking with hers, before he took a step backward, pulling the door wide open. He wore jeans, a t-shirt and socks; it was the most casual she’d ever seen him dressed, and somehow, his apparel made showing up at his home seem even more intimate. “Come on in.”

She did exactly that, stepping inside and catching her toe on the doorframe because she just couldn’t break eye contact.

At least she didn’t trip. Diverting her gaze from Noah’s, she stared around the living room.

The white walls, beige carpet and moving boxes didn’t provide much fodder for comments. A scruffy orange something peering out at her from behind one of the boxes did, though. “Oh, you have a cat.”

She wouldn’t have guessed, just like she wouldn’t have imagined all the ink his suit had hidden the first time she’d met him. Noah was full of surprises – in this case, a fluffy, kind of ragtag one. As she took a step toward the animal, it became clear that it was missing the tip of one ear, and calling its tail a stump would’ve been generous.

“That’s Schubert,” Noah said. “You’re not allergic, are you? I didn’t think to ask.”

“No.” Crouching, she reached out, half surprised when the cat didn’t flee, blinking up at her instead with yellow eyes and calmly accepting a gentle scratch between his ears – or ear and a half, rather.

“Schubert showed up on my doorstep back in Buffalo one day and just kind of stuck around. My roommate there was a computer programmer and worked a lot of hours. Sometimes he’d get in the zone and I’d barely see him for days. I’m pretty sure he forgot to eat and drink himself sometimes, so I didn’t really trust him to take care of another living creature on his own.”

Zoe smiled down at Schubert, who just blinked.

“So you take in stray cats,” she said, standing when Schubert stalked off, apparently bored with her attentions. “I wonder what that says about you inviting me to live here?”

“I don’t take in just any cat. Schubert is special.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a fighter. I watched him beat up two dogs before I finally broke down and let him live in our apartment.”

“Is that how he wound up with missing body parts?”

“Nah. By the time he started beating up the neighborhood dogs, his tail and the tip of his ear were long gone. I took him in because my neighbors were afraid to let their pets go out to take a piss at night.”

“Hmm. I’m really not sure what
that
says about how you see me.”

“You’re no Schubert,” Noah said. “You’re much prettier. I’m sure you could inflict some damage with those nails, though.” He took one of her hands, holding it lightly in his own, and raised it toward the light. Her freshly-manicured nails glistened a vivid shade of fuchsia. “Schubert would approve. I’m sure that’s why he let you pet him – usually he shuns visitors, you know.”

She couldn’t help but smile, even though her stomach had been tied in knots ever since he’d made his offer earlier that day. Her nails were a point of pride – they were all natural, not acrylic, and she did her own manicures. Nail painting was the only remotely artistic talent she had, so she went all out, making time to keep them perfectly shaped and lacquered.

“Anyway,” he said after holding her hand for a few seemingly endless moments, “let’s get this tour started. We’ve got white walls to stare at and futons to admire.”

As it turned out, there was only one futon – the sole piece of furniture in the living room, which Schubert took to lurking under, his stubby wisp of a tail twitching as he stared out from beneath with topaz eyes. Noah was right about the walls being all white though, and really, the apartment was a series of open spaces with boxes stacked in corners, a blank canvas as far as décor went.

A roomy bed dominated one bedroom. The second was empty and significantly larger than the closet she’d been shown the day before.

“It even has its own window,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.

“I see that. I have to say, I’m impressed with how fit for human habitation this place is. After the madhouse I visited yesterday, this apartment is a breath of fresh air. Literally.” She had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose at the memory of the smoky fog that had filled the other apartment. “That being said, I’m sure this place runs you more than anything else I’d considered.”

She hated to bring up money, but it was utterly necessary.

“The rent’s not too bad, really. I shopped around before signing the lease.” He quoted her a figure for her share of the rent that nearly had her jaw dropping.

“That seems too low. For a place like this? Surely my half would be more.”

“I pay extra every month to have Schubert,” he said, deadpan. “And of course, that cost wouldn’t be passed on to you. So yeah, my share would technically be higher than yours.” He tipped his head toward the short hallway that led to the living room. “Think of it as having two roommates, not one.”

“You’re just being nice. Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me.” She glanced instinctively in the direction of the living room, thinking of Schubert. Noah didn’t see her as another needy stray who’d stumbled into his life, did he?

He stared directly into her eyes, and the look she saw in his gaze wasn’t one of pity. “I hope I’m being nice, because a part of me wonders whether I’m being just the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bad. Selfish. I like the idea of you staying here. I like it a hell of a lot, actually. But yeah, I want to help, too. I keep telling myself that’s why I’m doing this, even though I know part of my motivation is strictly selfish. I want you around, Zoe. I want you here. Sharing this place with you would be far from a burden.”

Her mouth went dry, and she struggled to come up with something to say as his words lit a spark of pleasure inside her. It felt good to be wanted by him – wanted back – and the look in his eyes made a part of her want to lock the deadbolt and never leave. Almost gleefully, she imagined living with Noah.

Seeing him before work. After work. Sleeping with nothing but a few inches of drywall between them, and sharing the sparse affections of Schubert. It all seemed like something out of a daydream. Was it stupid of her to think it could work?

“You’re my boss,” she said.  “People are always saying what a risk workplace relationships are. Nobody ever says anything about how
living
with your boss could turn out – I assume because no one besides me has a boss crazy enough to offer.”

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, though he never removed his gaze from hers. “If it turns out I’m a slob and you’re a shower-hog and we hate living together, I promise not to fire you because of it.” He raised one hand slowly, extending his little finger. “Even if we fight over whose turn it is to do the dishes. Pinky swear.”

That caught her off guard. Slowly, she raised her hand too, skin tingling as she prepared to touch his. “Pinky swear – is that legally binding in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania?”

“I don’t know. I’m the one who’s new here. I could ask my attorney.”

“Don’t. They charge way too much per hour to waste time on a pinky swear question – I saw the bill from your last session when I was organizing those files the other day. I’ll just have to trust your word. Er, your pinky.” Before she could second-guess herself, she linked her little finger with his.

It was absurd that the contact felt sexy, but it did. She liked being linked to him, and a sense of satisfaction rose up inside her as she stared around the apartment – her new apartment, at least for a few weeks.

The pinky-lock quickly turned into something more – hand holding, and then Noah was pulling her closer, eliminating the space that had separated them. “Will you need help moving your stuff over here?”

“I don’t have a lot – I could probably fit most of it in boxes in my car. I’ll need help moving my bed, though.”

“Jay has a pick-up truck. I’m sure he’ll be glad to let us use it. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”

“If he’s not able to lend a hand right away, I can just camp out on the futon. No big deal.”

“You’ll have to fight Schubert for it – he’s already attacked me for sitting in his sleeping space. It’s the far right corner of the cushion, by the way – consider yourself warned.”

A smile leapt to her lips but was quickly tempered by another wave of worry as she thought back to the discussion they’d been having before he’d charmed her with his pinky swear. “About my share of the rent—”

“The figure I quoted you is firm.” He arched one brow and raised a hand. “Don’t think you can talk me down just because you’re so beautiful.” A smirk twisted one corner of his mouth, and God help her, she even thought that was sexy. “I’ll need the cash to make up for what I’ve spent on fancy chocolates in the past week.”

Behind the teasing light in his eyes, there was a stubborn expression.

She believed that he paid an extra charge per month to have Schubert around, but she wasn’t so sure the amount he’d quoted her was really her fair share. Not with utilities figured in, anyway. For a moment she considered asking to see the lease agreement, but her will wavered at the last second. She couldn’t deny that this was an ideal, if unexpected, solution to her problems. If she simply accepted it…

She could stop searching frantically for roommates, trying to accommodate a virtually impossible timeframe. Paul and Britney would finally be able to live together as an engaged couple without a third wheel around. Best of all, she wouldn’t even have to live in a closet.

“Thanks,” she said eventually. “Is it all right if I wait a few days to get my first monthly share to you? Either until I get my next paycheck from Hot Ink or my one and only check from Sugar Panda.”

He waved his free hand – the one that wasn’t holding one of hers. “Don’t worry about the rest of March. There’s not much of the month left anyway. Talk to me again when April rolls around.”

She started to protest.

Noah squeezed her hand, and the reminder that he was holding on to her swept away her doubts in a burst of pleasure. “So it’s official – you’re moving in tomorrow.”

Hearing him say it out loud obliterated a weight that’d been dragging her down. Slowly, she breathed a sigh. Knowing she’d have a decent roof over her head was like emotional morphine.

“I’ll start packing tomorrow morning.” She didn’t work at Elite East the next day, just Hot Ink, starting that afternoon. The free morning would allow her enough time to get her things together. “Thanks again.”

She met his eyes, studying the odd mix of desire and kindness that shone there. There was definite chemistry between them, and it rendered the idea of her staying with him for a while appealing in a way that made her entire body tingle. It wasn’t that she didn’t see the hunger in his eyes; it was just that he was so
nice
.

Schubert proved it. The cat was ugly, and apparently moody. Noah had brought him to Pittsburgh anyway when he could’ve easily left him behind. He was the first guy Zoe had ever met whose inner attractiveness seemed to match his seriously stunning exterior. The kind of guy she could’ve gone a lifetime without ever meeting. As that thought dawned on her, she experienced a pang of sadness – regret for what she would’ve missed if he hadn’t walked into Hot Ink five minutes before the end of her shift.

Rocking up onto her toes, she pressed her lips to his.

The same magic that had sizzled through her the first – and second – time they’d kissed filled her again, heating her from the inside out as he responded with perfect pressure, slipping his free hand behind her head and letting his fingers intertwine with her hair, like he’d been waiting for this.