His brows lift. “We should probably get matching tattoos or something. Too bad you’re not into that sort of thing.” My mouth drops open. And his smile right now? Knockout. I’m up out of the stool, grabbing Jake’s hand and dragging him along the counter with me to the edge, and then I’m pulling him through the room and toward my station, looking back at him to say, “You better be serious. I mean, you are. Right? Please don’t be joking with me.” “I brought it up, didn’t I?” “Yes. But you’re scared of needles.”
Ooooo
