What I can’t figure out is why that bothers me so much?

It shouldn’t.

Fuck knows I was ready to use her without a second thought.

Dylan’s lips twist into a scowl. Evidently, she isn’t finished telling me off yet. “Jace isn’t getting the butterfly for me. He’s getting it for Liam.”

Of course, he is.

It’s not enough for his entire chest to be covered with gigantic angel wings and the words, ‘My brother’s keeper.’

He has to keep adding to his permanent Liam shrine.

Making sure everyone knows exactly who his favorite brother was.

Meanwhile I know damn well if I was the one who died instead of Liam, Jace wouldn’t be running out to some tattoo shop to pay homage to my memory.

He’d probably be relieved.

Everyone would.

I can feel Jace’s eyes on me. “Do you want one?”

“Do I want what? A stupid butterfly for the person who ripped what was left of our family apart when he offed himself?” Grinning, I scratch my jaw. “Nah, I’m already reminded of the fucker every time I look in the mirror. Unlike you, I don’t need to make my body a mural hoping it will take away the guilt I feel for fucking his girl every night.”

I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth, but it’s too late.

It’s always too late.

The shop goes silent.

But that’s what I do.

I hurt…so I hurt others.

Especially the people I care about most.

Jace’s jaw hardens. “I meant a regular tattoo, prick.”

“Oh. I see. You were offering to do something nice for me since it’s my birthday.” I glare daggers right back at him. “No thanks. I’m good.”

The anger in his eyes turns to anguish and he looks away.

Mission accomplished.

Dylan springs up in her seat. “Why do you always have to ruin everything—”

“Dylan,” Sawyer whispers. “Drop it.”

Dylan’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious—”

“You should listen to your friend,” I tell Dylan before my eyes shift to Sawyer.

Ignoring me is the smart thing to do.

It’s what everyone does.

“I think I want to get my dick pierced,” Oakley announces.

Safe to say everyone’s attention is now on him.

Dylan blinks. “What?”

Jace eyes him suspiciously. “Why?”

I wince. “Dude, no.”

“Ladies love it,” the tattoo artist setting up shop by Dylan and Sawyer comments. “Trust me.”

There’s no mistaking the flirty smirk he sends Sawyer’s way.

Or the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Do you think it hurts?” Oak asks me.

“It’s a piece of metal going through your cock,” I remind him. “Of course it fucking hurts.”

Tattoo guy shrugs. “It’s actually not that bad.” He turns to Sawyer and Dylan. “Did you two decide where you want your tattoos yet?”

Dylan and Sawyer exchange a glance and Dylan points to her hip. “We’re gonna get them here.”

“Awesome. Who’s going first?”

Sawyer nods toward Dylan. “Your birthday is two days before mine, so you should go first.”

“Okay.” Dylan tugs down the top of her yoga pants, baring her hip. “Let’s do this.”

Oakley looks at their tattoo artist. “How does sex feel with one?”

“Fucking awesome…especially for her.” He wipes some antiseptic stuff on Dylan’s skin. “But I can only speak on behalf of the apadravya, not the Prince Albert.”

Oakley ponders this for a moment. “What’s the difference?”

“A PA goes through your pee hole and out the side. Apadravya goes vertical through your tip.”

I inwardly shudder. Fuck that shit.

“How long does it take to…you know, be back in business?”

Mouth agape, I stare at him. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?”

Oakley’s impulsive as hell, but this has to take the cake.

The guy laughs. “You should be able to fuck with a condom on in about four to six weeks.”

“Damn,” Oakley says. “That’s a long time.”

Tell me about it.

“So, which one of you does the piercings around here?”

Tattoo dude points to the girl at the counter. The same one Oakley was flirting with before.

Winking, she saunters toward a room in the back. “Ready when you are, soldier.”

Oh, hell. Trying to talk him out of it now is futile.

Oakley rubs his hands together, his gaze ping-ponging between Jace and I. “All right. Which one of you are coming with me?”

Jace motions to the tattoo machine that’s currently inking his skin. “I’m kind of busy.”

Oakley mock-punches my arm. “You’re on deck.”

The fuck I am. “I’m not watching someone put a hole through your wang.”

His face falls. “Come on, man. I need someone to hold my hand in case it hurts. I thought we were brothers from another mother?”

We are, but there are some things a man should never ever witness another man do. This is at the top of the list.

“I’ll do it.” Sawyer gets up from her seat. “Since Dylan’s taking her tattoo like a champ and doesn’t need me, I can go in there with you…if you want.”

“Thank you,” Oakley says. “Unlike Cole, you’re a true friend. However, I should probably warn you not to freak out.”

Sawyer and Dylan exchange a glance. “Why would I freak out?”

He smirks. “Let’s just say I’m blessed in that department, so you—”

“I’ll do it,” I interject.

The thought of Oakley dropping trou and whipping out his dick in front of Sawyer doesn’t sit well with me.

“Oh, now you want to step up and be a knight in shining armor,” Oakley muses. “Well, sorry, but I don’t accept—”

Grabbing him by the shoulders, I shove him toward the room in the back. “Quit yapping so we can get this shit over with, fucker.”

Chapter 31

Sawyer

“Hold on. I’m not ready yet,” Oakley yells from the back room. “I need another second.”

“He’s been in there for over forty minutes.” Dylan motions to her near complete tattoo. “I’m almost done.”

“I know.” I try not to laugh. “I’m surprised Cole hasn’t lost his shit yet.”

“Okay—I think I’m ready now,” Oakley declares.

“Great. Take a deep breath for me,” the patient piercer instructs.

“Wait,” Oakley screams. “I need one more minute.”

“Jesus Christ!” Cole roars. “Motherfucker, if you tell her to wait one more time, I’m putting that barbell through your dick myself.”

The laughter Dylan, Jace, and I were trying to suppress escapes us in one big wave. Even our tattoo artist—who we found out is named Ivan—has to pause to gather his bearings.