Evening comes slowly, too slowly for my liking.
I leave the library and walk the short distance to the tattoo parlor, my legs stiff, my heart violently pumping blood through my veins.
As soon as I turn the corner, I see Sean’s already outside, leaning against the wall and talking to somebody on his cell. He has a nice smile and his head’s forward, his curls covering his eyes.
I let my gaze linger on his stretched arm, his hand in his jeans pocket, his leg bent with a foot up on the wall, his thin waist, his nape a little uncovered. He looks breathtaking.
I give a little start when he turns to me and waves. I wave back and walk closer, keeping at a safe distance to not invade his privacy.
When he hangs up the phone, he shakes the hair from his eyes and smiles a little at me. Not his us
