Luciano went home alone that night, and by the time he closed and locked his apartment door, he was a wreck. The night he’d just spent with Melanie had been the best night of his life. He’d danced. He’d laughed. He’d drank. And maybe, just maybe, he’d started to fall in love.

It terrified him as much as it tore him apart.

The betrayal was too real. After Cassandra’s death, he’d closed himself off and refused to see anyone else. It was dishonest to her memory.

But now?

Now Melanie was smiling at him, and when she did, her eyes softened and brightened, like he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He’d seen her full lips smeared by his own. He’d felt every inch of her, and had rutted inside of her so deeply and with such abandon that he’d forgotten all about Cassandra. In that moment, there had only been him and Melanie. Nothing else had mattered.

It was sickening.

He lurched across the apartment and spread himself over his couch. An arm draped over his eyes, he tried to talk himself down from the ledge. Everything had been going so well. He’d come so far. In the last few weeks, he’d learned that loving someone else wasn’t an affront to Cassandra’s memory. But was being so involved with her that he forgot about Cassandra entirely a different matter? He never wanted to forget. He was Cassandra’s last mark on the world, and he wanted to carry her in his mind for the rest of time.

How was anyone supposed to love him when he was so hung up on another woman?

Luciano scowled and rolled over. The lights in his apartment were off, and it was dark. He tugged the blanket down from over the top of the couch and wrapped himself in it. The couch wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as his bed, but he felt like it was what he deserved right now.

He couldn’t face Melanie.

There was so much wrong with him that he couldn’t bring himself to. She deserved better. He hoped she’d understand.

* * *

“What the hell is going on?” Melanie grumbled. Luciano heard her from the front counter. The walls that divided each of the tattoo bays were only partial—their open tops let noise pass freely. Antonio said that it kept artists honest and gave clients an extra sense of security. If anything fishy went on, all they had to do was call out and someone would hear them.

Luciano had been avoiding Melanie all day. He’d come in late to avoid being alone with her during opening, and every time she’d stopped by the desk for one thing or another, he’d dodged conversation or replied with curt answers.

The longer he regretted what he’d done, the more he realized what a crunch he was in. The anniversary of Cassandra’s death was almost on his doorstep. With Melanie, he’d been so distracted he hadn’t thought much about it. After the night before, Luciano couldn’t escape it. He needed to get out, and between clients, he’d been scrambling to look for ways on how to do that.

“It’s been like this for like, an hour,” Jill said. “I’ve been trying to get it to work, but it just keeps blue screening whenever I push it too hard—and apparently, pushing too hard means opening the daily agenda.”

“I don’t get it.” Melanie sounded frustrated. “I wish Riley were here. I have no idea how this program works, or why the computer is doing this. I am not technologically literate on that level.”

“Can we just get a new one?” Jill asked.

“We might have to, but that’s going to take some time especially if we have to reinstall all our programs. Your payment processor is still working at least, right?”

“Yeah.” Jill paused. “But I can’t enter any of the receipt information into our database.”

“Then record it by hand. I know it’s not perfect, and it’s going to be a hassle, but we can’t close down because of this.” Melanie sighed. “I’m sorry, Jill. I’ll be around to help as much as I can, but I’ve got a lot going on now, too.”

The computer system was down? Luciano lifted his head and frowned. He’d been counting on accessing it to check his appointments for the twenty-seventh—he knew Melanie had started to refill his schedule after he’d gone through the pains of voiding his day.

There was a chance that he could get to the tattoo convention in Salt Lake City. The convention itself was small time and unimpressive, but what mattered was that it was going on concurrent to the anniversary of Cassandra’s death. The East Coast Tattoo Society convention had been a wash. He’d gone and made his address on the first day, but there wasn’t much of interest to keep him engaged. The workshops going on were basic, and he could just as easily tattoo inside Thorn Tattoo than on a borrowed chair in a convention center while strangers gawked at his work.

The convention in Salt Lake City would be more of the same and he’d likely be the biggest name in attendance, so people were sure to gawk but it would put him safely outside of Vegas and distract him from the reality of the situation.

With the database down, he was going to need Melanie’s help to get it set up. She was the one with access to his schedule in her tablet, and while sometimes, he could wrest it away from her to manage himself, these days she’d kept it close.

He was on break between clients, and he took the time to go talk to her. On his way out the doors of his tattoo bay, she was on the way in. They almost bumped into each other.

Luciano was quick to take a step back. He hated how happy she looked to see him, like he was her entire world. It hurt him to think that he was hurting her, but what else could he do?

“I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I need you to help me with something.”

“What’s that?” Melanie asked. “If it’s about the computer, I don’t know if you heard, but the whole system is down for now. I’m going to call an IT guy in or something after I check in with Antonio so we can work out a solution. I’m pretty sure we’re going to need to replace the whole thing.”

“No,” Luciano said unevenly. Melanie looked up at him curiously. “I mean, I guess you’re probably right. I need you to clear my schedule for the twenty-seventh, and then book me a late ticket for the night before to Salt Lake City.”

“Why?” Melanie furrowed her brow. It was the first conversation they’d had since they’d parted ways the night before.

“Because I need to leave. I’m going to a tattoo convention there. In fact, I’d really appreciate it if you could contact them and let them know I’m coming. It’s too late to add me to the official roster, but I’m sure someone involved with the organization could slap a few banners together quickly, maybe announce it on the radio or whatever shit they do to advertise.” Luciano shrugged. “I’ve got a really busy afternoon coming up. Pretty sure I’ve got a six-hour session booked with my next client.”

“I don’t understand,” Melanie said softly. “I thought that you were going to be around. I mean, we never talked about it, but I just assumed….”

“I changed my mind.” Luciano’s tone did not leave any room for discussion. Melanie frowned and dropped her gaze, and Luciano felt his heart start to fracture. He hated to do this to her, but he couldn’t let her be so attached when he had so much baggage. It wasn’t fair to her. “Please, book it.”

“If that’s what you want…” Melanie never said she agreed, but he didn’t need her to. It was his life, and his choices were his alone to make.

“Thank you.” Luciano wanted to say more, but before he could, Jill appeared behind them. She’d brought Luciano’s client with her.

“Your next client is here, Luc,” she said. “This is Jason. You two have fun.”

“I’m looking forward to you finishing up my sleeve,” Jason told him as he moved to sit in the chair.

Melanie gave Luciano one last look, then vacated the area to give him and Jason some privacy.

He wished things could turn out differently between them, but Luciano didn’t want to hurt a woman he’d come to love so damn much.