2 Chapter 2

Now he’s all I think about, the guy I compare everyone else to, my ideal lover.

Why the hell does he have to be straight?

“Damn,” he says softly. “If I wasn’t with Darcy…”

“You’d what?” I want to know. “Admit it, you’d hook up with me?”

Mojo throws me an exasperated glance—he thinks I’m only kidding with him about us getting together, but the truth is, I’d do it if he asked. Hell, who wouldn’t?

Only half-teasing, I tell him, “So try telling me you weren’t digging my latest ink in the hopes I’d sleep with you. Say it enough times and you just might start to believe it.”

“You’re the best artist here,” he admits. “Besides me.”

Despite the pride swelling my chest, I scoff as I clean up my booth. “Here it comes. What do you want?”