“I’m going to fuck you in those shoes,” he said, and the burning, churning desire was back and it nearly overwhelmed me. I held onto the wall as my knees dipped and this time I knew it wasn’t because of the shoes. How the hell was I going to get through tonight holding onto him? It would be a miracle if we made it out of the apartment.

“Promise?” I gave him a sly smile. I liked that idea. I even had the perfect place in mind. What was it about him that made it feel so good to be so bad? Probably because I’d never found someone who made me feel like I could lose control and they’d be there to catch me.

He squeezed my ass, dragging me against his growing erection. My heart thundered and I fought the urge to nip his neck. I knew if I did that it would all be over and Dahlia would kill me for missing her show.

“You can put your stuff in my bedroom,” I said, trying to break his spell over me. He walked into the room, his whole body filling the door frame, and suddenly my room felt like a completely different place. The light, brightness of the coral and greens contrasted with his dark suit. For a man with such strikingly bright eyes and hair, he always seemed to exude the darkness. Wrapped it around him like a cloak wherever he went.

He seemed so out of place amongst all my things, but still he fit. Like another one of my mismatched odds and ends that most people thought would never make sense with everything else and you sat it down on a shelf and it looked like it was always meant to be there. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and glanced over the pictures on my dresser. He glanced at my music box, pointed, and raised an eyebrow.

“What? It’s weird for a grown woman to have a music box?” I walked over to it and turned the metal knob on the back. The blue and white carousel metal was complete with horses that moved up and down as the song played, “Que Sera Sera”. It was my grandmother’s favorite song.

“No, not at all. It’s very different from your style is all.” He gestured to my room, which was much more modern and shabby chic than this shiny, sparkling thing.

“My grandma gave it to me for my fifth birthday, the year she died.” A sad pang hit me right in the chest. I rubbed the spot with my knuckles. “She used to sing the song to me all the time. This is the most important thing I own.” I ran my finger over it as the horses went up and down and the song played in the otherwise silent room. Killian’s warm, strong fingers threaded through mine. I glanced up at him, embarrassed by how emotional I felt right now.

“Sorry to be such a downer.” I ducked my head and blinked back the tears that had welled in my eyes.

“You’re not a downer.” He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his chest and breathed him in, wrapping my arms around his back. His smell wove itself into me and made me want to stay there forever. “You’re you.” He rested his chin on the top of my head and for some reason this felt so much more intimate than so many of the other things we’d done. Standing here in my bedroom, listening to “Que Sera Sera”, holding one another. If you’d have told me this was where I’d be a month ago, I’d have said you were insane, but here we were. What will be, will be.

“Get changed,” he said, giving me a gentle smack on the ass. I changed in my room and when I came out, Killian was examining one of the ridiculous gifts my mom had sent when I first moved to town. It was a silver hand mirror from who knows when. I had it on one of the shelves in the living room.

“I’m ready,” I said, standing against the counter, still in a daze, doing my best impersonation of someone who knew how to walk in heels. I did my best to smooth out my hair and get it as close to actual curls instead of a frizzy poof ball. Dahlia picked out the dress. She refused to let me attend if I didn’t have something she felt suited the evening. I hadn’t been on board with the bright blue bandage dress that contoured and fit my body like a glove, but I was determined to fake it until I made it. I stared at myself in the mirror. I put on my bravest face.

“Is this a 19^th century—” and the words died on his lips when he turned around. I can’t say it didn’t make me feel great to know I could make a guy like Killian speechless. He had to have seen a hell of a lot of women naked before me, not that I like to think about that, but it was true. To know that he thought I looked good, made me that much bolder. I couldn’t help my smile. I knew I was grinning like an idiot, but I didn’t care. I tried my best sexy saunter over to him and only wobbled once.

“Wow,” he said, as I slid my hands along his lapels.

“Do you like?”

“I more than like. You look beautiful,” he said, brushing a lock of hair back from my face. My cheeks heated. And again, with the blushing, I don’t know why I bothered to put on any blush at all when I was around him.

“Let’s go,” he said, holding out his arm, and I wrapped mine around it, knowing I’d need all the support I could get not to die in these shoes.

Any weirdness I’d seen in Rachel’s apartment was forgotten the minute she walked out in that dress with those shoes. I’d seen her naked and in various stages of undress, but I’d never seen her dolled up like this. I’d have to take her out more often. Show her off.

The gallery show wasn’t like any I’d attended before. We walked past huge photographs of tattoos mounted on the walls. The skill level of the ink wasn’t anything like I’d ever seen. If the body parts weren’t visible in the photos, I’d have guessed these were paintings or drawings. I couldn’t imagine creating this type of art on a moving, living, breathing canvas. Rachel excitedly pointed out all the pieces that Dahlia did. After the first few, it was easy for me to pick out which ones were hers. They were always vivid, almost overpowering in their beauty. The intricate designs drew you in and made you want to explore each line and shade.

Heads turned as we walked into the exhibition and I knew they weren’t for me. Rachel was breathtaking and mouthwatering all at the same time. My fingers itched to wrap around her waist and carry her back to the apartment or nearest flat surface immediately. The heels made her ass look delectable and I couldn’t wait to sink my fingers into it.

“Damnit. I was hoping you’d chicken out and I’d get those shoes,” Dahlia said, coming up and giving Rachel a big hug.

“I’d have fought you to the death for these things,” Rachel said, kicking up her heel, showing off the bright red sole underneath. As if I didn’t have enough confirmation already, my time at Ace’s taught me those shoes cost quite a bit. Why was she slumming it as Thayer’s assistant?

“You’re scrappy. It would have been quite a fight,” Dahlia teased, grinning. “So, what do you think?” She opened her arms wide, showcasing the photos behind her.

“They’re all so amazing, as usual. I still can’t believe how big some of these pieces are. And that you did the photography for them too.” Rachel gushed over Dahlia. The proud smile she gave Rachel let me know she really cared what her roommate thought. And was happy she liked the exhibit. While Dahlia and I got off to a rocky start, I could tell she really cared about Rachel, which was probably why she tried to warn me off. I wasn’t the most upstanding of men.

“What about you?” Dahlia said, arms crossed over her chest. Her shoulders tight. Maybe she thought what Rachel was saying was just because they were friends.

“I think you’re an amazing artist. Tattoos or not, these are remarkable. If I ever got one, you’d be my first choice.” Her shoulders visibly relaxed and she smiled. The first genuine one I’d seen from her that wasn’t directed at Rachel.

“Thanks,” she said and there might have been a hint of a blush there. I’m glad Rachel had someone like her around, that would go to the mat for her, but seemed like a softie at heart, despite what the tattoos might suggest. Then suddenly she was gone, completely bowled over by a horde of at least seven guys. I stepped forward. What the fuck?

Rachel put her arm in front of me to stop me. Her smile made me relax and then I took in the scene. The guys were all picking her up and hugging her.

“It’s the guys from the shop. They are always like this whenever she has something big going on.” Rachel laughed as Dahlia swatted and punched them all, but with a huge smile on her face. High alert gone, I watched the rambunctious greeting from the guys.

“Look at the boss lady, showing off her fancy shit!” one of them with gauges so big you could fit a hand through them crowed.

“Will you paint me like one of your French girls, Dahl?” another said, batting his eyelashes.

No sooner than they put Dahlia’s feet on the ground, did a shadow fall over the group. A man who dwarfed even me appeared and grabbed one of the guys who had lifted Dahlia off her feet in a hug, by the throat, and held him up in the air.

Roars of ‘what the fuck?’ and ‘stop it’ rolled through the group, but the giant wouldn’t let go.

His tattooed arms and neck made him even more intimidating, even in a room full of tattooed and pierced people. A wheeze came from Dahlia’s friend.

I looked to Rachel, whose eyes were wide. Obviously, this wasn’t another one of their greetings. I moved forward to step in when Dahlia got in front of him.

“Ivan, put him down, now!” she yelled so loud that everyone who wasn’t already gawking at the scene turned to stare. The throbbing music still pounded in the background. I half expected Dahlia to punch him. Ivan’s eyes left the guy in his hand, whose feet were dangling in the air. “Put him down,” she said, tugging on his arm. As if controlled by the pissed off woman in front of him, he released his grip on the guy’s neck and the breathless man dropped to the floor in a heap, coughing and sputtering.

“I’m sorry,” Ivan said, glancing down at his hands like he didn’t even know what had happened.

“You need to leave,” she said, her teeth clenched tight. Ivan gave her a single nod and backed up, leaving them, before turning. The crowd parted to let him get by or they’d have been bowled over by his hasty retreat. Dahlia turned to check on her friend before plastering on a fake smile that didn’t reach her eyes. And it clicked. It was all Dahlia’s work covering that guy. One of the most intense pictures of hers matched his tattoos exactly.

“Who’s ready for a drink? I know I sure as fuck am!” Dahlia checked on her friend who’d been picked up off the ground. He was okay. She gathered the guys and headed to the bar.

Rachel caught her arm. I trailed behind. Turning Dahlia to face her, Rachel asked, “Dahlia, what the hell was that?”

“It’s nothing. Everything is fine, let’s enjoy the night.” Dahlia’s plastered on smile got even wider as she subtly shook off Rachel’s arm. “I’m going to get some shots. We need to celebrate. It’s not every day we get you out of the apartment in shoes that look that fucking hot. Right, Killian?” Dahlia said, trying to rope me in on her distraction.

“They do look really fucking hot, Rachel. Have I told you that already?” I asked.

“Only every fifteen seconds,” she said, laughing as Dahlia disappeared back to the bar. Rachel followed after her and I caught her, sliding my hand along her waist.

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready,” I whispered against her ear. She shot a concerned look toward the bar Dahlia had climbed behind to serve us our drinks and nodded.

The rest of the night was a blur. There were rounds of shots for everyone, which naturally led to people wanting to show off their ink, no matter where it might be, including one taint tattoo I could have gone without seeing. When someone pulled out their tattoo gun, I knew that was the time to leave.

“You ready?” I whispered in Rachel’s ear. She nodded, nibbling on her lip.

“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the back of the building.

“The exit is that way.” I pointed over my shoulder.

“I know,” she said with that glint in her eyes. The one that meant I was in for a treat.

“What are you up to?” I asked, unable to hold back my smile. She led me down the dark back hallway of the building, until we came to a big metal fire exit door. The smell of newly applied paint filled the air, before she pushed on the door and the fresh air flowed into the hall. We stepped out into the alley, the door slamming behind us. It was a loading dock of the brand-new exhibition space. It was a tucked away alcove where the sounds of the street filtered back to where we were, but we couldn’t see the street. “Why are we out here?”

“You said you were going to fuck me in these shoes, so I figured, why not now?”