Page 92 of Ink & Desire

“Hey, you,” she says, giving me a quick hug. “I can’t believe you got me in on a Saturday. Who did you have to murder for a spot to open up?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” I say. “Come on.”

“What crawled up your butt?” Henley asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” she says. “You’re crankier than usual.”

“You’ve been here for thirty seconds,” I say. “You haven’t had time to know if I’m cranky.”

“I’m your sister,” she says. “I can tell.” Turning to look at Jessie, she points at me. “What’s his problem?”

“Avery,” Jessie says with a smirk. “She’s in New York for the weekend.”

I narrow my eyes at her, silently ordering her to keep her mouth shut.

“And?” Henley asks, eyeing me.

“And nothing,” I say. “Just drop it.”

“And he was supposed to go with her, but he’s here instead,” Jessie says, earning her a death glare from me.

“Oh, shit,” Henley says, grinning. “You fucked the hot apprentice, didn’t you.”

“More than once,” Jessie mumbles under her breath.

“Will you shut the fuck up, please?” I say, my tone making it clear that it’s an order and not a suggestion.

Jessie holds her hands up as if in surrender. “Fine,” she says. “Just trying to help.”

“Like hell,” I mutter as she walks away.

When I turn back to look at my sister, she’s standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me.

“What?” I ask, suddenly defensive.

“Tell me everything so I can help you fix it,” she says in a business-like tone.

I roll my eyes, even though the idea of letting someone else fix my fuck-up is awfully tempting. I’ve always been the one to fix everyone else’s problems. I wouldn’t know the first thing about letting someone fix mine.

“You can’t fix this, Hen,” I say. “Let’s just get to work on your back.”

She shakes her head. “Not until you talk to me.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why the hell does every woman I know want to talk shit to death? It doesn’t fix anything.”

“How would you know if you’ve never tried it?”

“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face. “Fine. You want me to talk, I will. But afterward I don’t want to hear a fucking word about it. I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’ Got it?”

She just smiles. “Got it.”

I sigh as I sit on the stool behind me. “Me and Avery,” I begin.

“Hooked up?” she guesses.

I nod. “Yeah. It started out that way. Just a good time. We both agreed to it. We kept it quiet and had fun. No feelings. No strings. Just hooking up.”