Good Girl Gone Page 17

“He offered to do that?” Her brows shoot up.

I nod and twirl a piece of hair around my finger.

“But you didn’t let him.”

I scoff. “Of course not.”

“But you’re thinking about it.”

“No-o-o-o,” I say slowly.

“Yes, you are. You’re totally thinking about it.” She laughs. “I bet he could make you come your brains out.”

“Does Sam do that for you?”

“All the time.” She laughs again. But then she sobers. “I like Josh a lot.”

“Me too,” I say, my voice small.

“Good.”

I don’t know if it’s good or not.

My phone goes off in my pocket and I see that it’s Josh when I pull it out.

Him: Was that a pity blowjob?

Me: A what?

Him: Like a pity fuck, but not.

I wait a beat. I don’t know what to say.

Then I opt for the truth.

Me: That was me seeing if I could be what you need.

Him: What does that mean?

Me: I’m not very good at sex.

Him: You could have fooled me.

I snort. Peck smiles at me, watching me closely. “Shut up,” I grumble at her.

Me: I need to take it slow. Is that all right with you?

Him: I’ll go as slow as you need to go, and do whatever you need to do.

My heart sighs.

Me: Okay.

Him: Are you coming back?

Me: Do you want me to?

Him: Yes, please.

Me: When do you get off work?

Him: Not sure. But I hope you’ll be there when I get there.

Me: I’ll be there.

Him: I left a key for you over the door.

Me: Wait. How did you put a key over the door?

Him: I got mad skills.

I chuckle.

Me: See you later.

Him: Looking forward to it.

I look up to find Peck grinning at me. “He’s going to get you through it.”

“Through what?”

She stares hard at me. “You know what.”

Yeah, I do know what. I just wish I didn’t.

Josh

I just made some motherfucking amazing nipples. They look so real that I want to bend my head and take one into my mouth. “What do you think?” I ask Logan as I set my machine to the side. He has stayed in the room with me this whole time, because he’s done a shit ton of these things and I was so nervous that my hand was shaking when I first started.

Logan smiles at the woman, who had a double mastectomy two years ago. “I think they look perfectly kissable.”

Her cheeks flush, but she’s smiling.

“Your husband is going to be so surprised.”

“I may never put a shirt on again,” she says, beaming, but she pulls her shirt down over her head anyway. “It’s almost a shame to cover them up.” She leans over and throws her arms around my neck, her eyes getting bright and shiny. “Thank you,” she whispers.

She follows Friday to the front of the shop, but Friday doesn’t let her pay. They hug and talk for a minute and then the woman leaves.

Friday saunters toward the back of the shop, her high heels clicking on the floor. “We’ll be sure you’re paid for your time,” she tells me. “I know you weren’t planning to work for free.”

But I don’t want to be paid. I wanted to do something good. “No. I don’t want any money for those tattoos. I won’t take it even if you try to give it to me.” Friday has a tendency to steamroll anyone who has a dick, and I know that if I’m not firm with her, she’ll make me take the money and I won’t even notice it.

She surprises me when she says, “You’re sure?”

I nod. “Positive.”

My heart feels light and my head feels like it’s spinning. I just did something really good. And it didn’t involve bullets flying or anyone dying on the floor.

“Thanks for letting me do it. Set me up some more appointments like that, will you?” I clean up my station.

“I knew you were a good one.” Friday bends over and kisses my cheek. Paul walks around the corner right when her lips touch my cheek.

“What the fuck, Friday?” he says, throwing his hands up.

“He doesn’t count,” she says, her tone light and happy.

My heart sinks. I can see her point. The guy in the chair is never a threat, but it still stings a little.

Logan punches me on the shoulder. “Family doesn’t count,” he says. Then I understand what she was saying and my heart releases from the tight clench that had it locked there for a minute.

“I’m not family,” I protest.

He shrugs. “Same difference.” Then he grins at me and starts to pack his bag. “I have to get home. Em just texted to see where I am.”

“She over the morning sickness yet?” Friday asks.

Logan and Emily are expecting another baby.

“Pretty much,” he tells her.

“Good,” she chirps. “Tell her to call me.” She turns to me as Logan leaves. “Where are you going when you leave here?”

“Home.” It sounds good to say that, but I am well aware that none of it is mine. My job, my apartment, my newfound family—it all rests on the Reeds.

“You have a pretty brunette waiting for you there?”

I grin. I can’t help it. “I certainly hope so.”

She stops what she’s doing and stares at me. She cocks her head to the side a little. “So, it’s the real thing?”