Even though these guys at Raw Ink were my people and we looked out for each other, eventually I needed to move on to a career that I loved. Or maybe I’d just do both. It would be hard leaving the shop behind.

While I was busy texting, Cory and Dex started a game of quarters with a couple of regulars who had sat down at the other end of the table. These two were forever playing something—flip the cup, euchre, Avery’s five fingers game, truth or dare, you name it.

Apparently already bored with the quarters game, Cory slammed down his cup. “Never have I ever . . .”

I rolled my eyes and Avery groaned. Here we go again.

Cory’s eyes zeroed in on Nate and then lit up. ”. . . Jumped off the side of the bridge.”

“You ass,” Dex said. “Had anyone in this group jumped off a bridge, they wouldn’t be here to answer your question.”

But then suddenly Nate raised his beer to his lips and took a long sip to disprove his point.

“Nate?” Dex said, his eyes alight with amusement.

“It’s called bungee jumping,” Nate said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Dude, you forgot that my friend here has no fear of death,” Bennett said. “Pretty sure he’s done it all.”

“Oh, I fear death,” Nate said. “But if that’s the way I had to go, flying sky high, with my heart practically clawing out of my chest, I’d take it. It’s the other ways of dying that scare the shit out of me.”

My ears pricked up at this revelation. I knew he enjoyed those adrenaline-rush activities but I never really wondered why or how he felt about them.

“Well fuck, I guess you’re right. The alternatives aren’t much better,” Cory said. “Drowning, being burned at the stake, getting the living shit beaten out of you.”

Something dark crossed over Nate’s features before it quickly passed.

“See my point?”

“So if I said . . .” Dex rubbed his fingers along his chin. “Never have I ever jumped out of an airplane?”

Nate picked up his beer, took a hefty sip, while everyone around the table busted up laughing.

“My turn.” A smile burst from my lips, because it was so fun to mess with Nate, especially when he was looking all smug. I’d have him guzzling his drink down in no time flat. “Never have I ever . . . gotten it on with somebody in the bathroom of Zach’s Bar.”

Nate narrowed his eyes at me. “Nice,” he said, before gulping down more beer.

Then he leaned over to whisper, “You’re just trying to get me drunk, so I’ll give you a peek at the monstrosity between my legs.”

I snort laughed. “You wish.”

His eyes held mine for a bit longer than was comfortable and I wondered if he was getting tipsy. I felt a tingle descend down my spine like cold fingers. What in the hell was that about?

Avery cracked up as two other guys at the end of the table also took sips.

“I’m proud to not have raised a cup to my lips,” she said and then high-fived me.

“Yeah, me too, babe,” Bennett mumbled.

“But I’d get it on in the bathroom with you,” she whispered loud enough for me to overhear. Bennett’s fingers curled around her neck and he pulled her forward into a steamy kiss. I looked away as my cheeks heated up. These two were too sexy for their own good.

Bennett had been a virgin before he’d met Avery but the guys at the shop rarely razzed him about it—in fact, I think most were in awe that he could last that long. It wasn’t something he’d kept hidden, and given the shop owner’s past history with Avery, everyone pretty much kept their traps shut.

We were a tight-knit group and I was lucky to have even gotten this job. It was hard enough lining up an artist’s job in this town and these guys didn’t play. They took on very few apprenticeships, but the requirements to work the front of the shop were just as rigid.

Oliver required his front desk staff to have at least one tattoo so we could counsel new customers about the experience. My tattoo, along with my prior office management experience and no desire whatsoever to become a future artist, was what sealed the deal.

I was told in no uncertain terms that my job duties were to be only as described. If I was pretending to want to work the front of the shop only to get my hands on an apprenticeship or to get up close and personal with the artists, I’d be out on my ass faster than it took to fire up a tattoo machine.

“Well, if we’re gonna go there, it’s my turn next,” Zeke, one of Cory’s motor-head friends who had been sitting at the other end of the table, said. “Never have I ever . . . been handcuffed while doing the deed.”

All the guys laughed after he added, “But I’d like to be.”

Nobody around the table moved until Cory finally raised his glass. Then I shrugged and stretched my beer to my lips.

Again there were chuckles from the group and in my side view I saw Nate’s eyes practically pop out of his head. Suddenly it seemed too crowded beneath the table, so when Nate shifted his leg against mine, even if by accident, I nearly crawled out of my skin. Holy Christ on a cracker, I had no idea why I was feeling unexpectedly overheated being near my perfectly square friend.

“Oh, this is getting good. I’m going to flip it on its head,” the friend sitting across from Zeke said. “Never have I ever cuffed someone during sex.”

Another snicker around the table sounded after he added, “But I’d definitely consider it.”