It's easy, finding the info I need.

Tattoo artists are always sharing their work. Tagging their shops. Leaving hints to their exact location.

After work, I drive straight to the shop.

He's standing there, behind the counter, checking out a customer.

He has this stern look on his face.

That paternal I know best.

That bullshit I know everything.

The same as Brendon's expression.

Figures Hunter and I suffer from equally overbearing older brothers.

I watch Chase chuckle with his customer. Watch a smile light up his blue eyes—a little darker than Hunter's, but just as deep and beautiful.

He's hot. Smart. Quiet.

The type of guy I'd normally go for.

But I can't see any of that.

Only the hurt he's causing Hunter.

I wait until the customer leaves, then I suck a breath through my nose, and storm into the shop.

Chase's eyes go right to me.

They light up with recognition. "If you're here to beg me to come to Inked Hearts, you can forget it."

"Excuse me?"

"I told Hunter no. I told Ryan no. I'm going to tell you the same thing."

What? He… he doesn't want the job.

I exhale slowly. Try to get the gears in my brain to turn.

It doesn't happen.

I'm too tired. Everything is blurring together.

Hurt and caffeine are a powerful combination, but they aren't doing shit for my concentration.

Hunter is leaving in some attempt to repay his debts.

Of course his brother wants nothing to do with that.

They're all just…

UGH.

"Get the fuck over yourself, Chase." I press my palms into the counter. "Your brother screwed up, sure. He lied to you. He hurt you. Are you going to hold that against him forever?"

He stares back at me.

"You have any idea how much it kills him that you won't forgive him?"

He just stares.

"Do you even care or are you so stuck on this idea of cutting him off?"

"I'm doing what's best for him."

"Obviously not. Or he'd be at work right now. He'd be with me right now."

"You're better off."

"No. I'm not. That's what you don't get. Maybe he made mistakes. Maybe he really was a piece of shit when he drank. I don't know that guy. I never did, not really. But the Hunter I know now? The sober one? He's patient. He's sweet. He's funny. Supportive. Talented. Loyal."

"You're a sweet kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you are."

"I'm an adult. I have a job. I have my own apartment. I have my own desires and ambitions and dreams. I don't need another man telling me how I feel or what's best for me. Maybe I'm not the most objective source. Maybe I'm too in love to be objective. But the guy I know wouldn't hurt someone on purpose."

Fuck.

I'm in love with Hunter.

I'm so fucking in love with Hunter.

Of course it's hitting me now.

Feelings are cruel.

"You love him that much?" he asks.

"Yeah." My next breath is steadier. "I do."

"He ask you to—"

"No. He broke up with me."

His brow furrows with confusion.

"He's an idiot."

"We can agree about that."

"But he… he is a good person."

Something in his expression changes. Relents. Like he's accepting my words.

"You don't know me. Or owe me anything. But your brother loves you. He deserves another chance. And even if you do hate him, why not take a job at the best shop in Southern California instead of staying at this shit hole?"

"Maybe I like this shit hole?"

"Do you?"

He says nothing.

"I make the schedule. I can make sure you're never working the same shift."

"I'll think about it."

"No. You'll do it. Today. Or that's it. Job offer is gone."

"You don't have a lot of bargaining power."

"Yeah, but I'm pissed and hurt. I don't care."

He chuckles. "You want some coffee?"

"Are you taking the job?"

"Sit down. I'll make a pot."

"Yes or no?"

"I'm offering coffee. Take it or leave it."

Fucking asshole.

No wonder Hunter is such a mess.

I want to tell Chase to fuck off.

But I'm not turning down coffee.

I'm not completely senseless. "Fine. But it better be good."

"I can see why he likes you."

"Go fuck yourself."

He smiles. "You really are perfect for him."