Inked Playboy (Cocky Suits Chicago Book 5)

by Alex Wolf

  She laughs at that. “God, you’re so…” She just stops and shakes her head back and forth.

  I waggle my eyebrows. “Mysterious?”

  “Ridiculous was what I was thinking. And I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t like flowers.”

  “Whatever, liar.”

  Her glare burns into the side of my face. We ride a few more blocks, the flowers in her lap. I turn my head to make sure there’s no traffic before I pull across an intersection.

  I catch her reflection in the window and she’s holding the flowers to her nose, sniffing them and smiling. When I turn back, they’re in her lap again and she’s scowling.

  Nice try, Harlow. Pretend like you don’t like this shit all you want, but I know you. That’s what’s so weird about this whole thing. Before the wedding, she was like a different person to me, just Dex’s little cousin. But now, it’s like I can see her, everything about her, with one look. One fucking look and it’s like I can read her thoughts.

  I pull up to the curb and Harlow’s eyes light up, then they widen.

  “This is where we’re going on our date?”

  I nod. “Hell yes.”

  She shakes her head. “I was expecting something…different.”

  “Is it perfect or not?”

  She looks down at both of her arms. I haven’t had a chance to get a real good look at her work yet, but I love what I see. She has Rosie the Riveter, a tiger, and some tribal work. It’s all in black and white, which only makes her eyes that much bluer when I look at her.

  “It was a good choice.”

  I glance up at the tattoo parlor. It’s where I get all my work done; they’re the best in Chicago.

  “I can’t afford this place, though. Even if Marcel is fucking amazing.”

  Marcel is a personal friend and does all my work for free. I mean, when I was fighting, it was basically free advertising for him, and I’d name drop him any time someone asked me about mine in an interview.

  Before long, he was on all the TV shows and had most of the Bulls, Bears, Blackhawks, Cubs, White Sox, every celebrity in town. He has them all as clients.

  “Don’t worry, he owes me a favor. Get whatever you want.”

  “Seriously?”

  I’ve never seen Harlow look this excited in all the times I’ve seen her.

  I nod. “How do you think Dex got all his work done? I’m a pretty good guy to know.”

  She bites her lip, and fuck if I don’t want to bite it for her. “Okay, Miller. Let’s go.”

  I’m so getting laid for this.

  As we walk out, Harlow can’t stop staring down at her wrist. I can’t believe she didn’t go for something new, but she just had the bottom of her forearm touched up and a few details added. I know she chose it because it wouldn’t take a lot of time, and it would be cheaper. The detail work took about two hours.

  When we walk out into the fresh air it’s like I’m a new man. “I saw that earlier, by the way.”

  “Saw what?”

  “You sniff the flowers.”

  She punches me in the arm, playfully. “I did not, Miller.”

  I nod, walking ahead, away from the car. “You did. I think you like them.”

  She keeps pace with me. “Well, they are black roses.”

  “Why do you like black so much?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve always been drawn to it. I think it gets the shit end of everything. Everyone always thinks it’s evil or something, dull. I think it can be super beautiful, old black and white films, an artist who only operates in the gray scales. It takes more skill to make something amazing.”

  I stop and turn to her. “You do it justice, make it beautiful.”

  She glances away, and I swear her face just turned pink. Never thought I’d see the day.

  I lean down, grinning. “Is that Harlow Collins blushing?”

  She goes to shove me in a fun way, but I catch her by the wrist and pull her into me. We stand there, a stream of people flowing around us on the sidewalk, but it’s really only just us there, in our own little world. I take both my palms and slide them down her cheeks and push her hair back out of her face.

  She leans into one of my hands, just slightly, her eyes locked on mine the entire time.

  “This is real.”

  Her eyes flutter closed for a second, then she stares back at me. “I know.”

  “It scares me too.”

  Before she can respond, I take her by the hand and pull her toward the end of the block. “Come on, date’s not over.”

  As we walk, our fingers intertwine, and it sends a jolt of electricity up my spine. I’m holding hands, walking with Harlow. I don’t know why I feel the way I do around her, but it’s there and I can’t deny it. There’s a connection, something deeper than just sex or attraction, something you can’t put a finger on, but it invades every molecule of your being. She gets me and I get her.

  We cross a street and stroll into Millennium Park. It’s about as romantic as you can get for a daytime walk.

  Harlow sighs. “You were so crushing it, and then this.” She holds a hand out. “How cheesy can you get, Miller? A walk in the park? Really?”

  I laugh. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

  “What?” She cranes her head up to me.

  “Yeah, it’s the most romantic place I could think of, but you don’t know the details. Follow me.” I pull her over toward a bench as we watch couples, young and old, walking and holding hands as they pass through the courtyard and around the big chrome bean.

  I take a seat and Harlow sits next to me.

  “That’s it? We’re going to sit at the park?”

  I roll my eyes, just to get a rise out of her, and sigh. “No. I used to come here when I was a kid running the streets.”

  “Before Bill?”

  I nod. “Yeah, it was just me. One of my foster parents would give me shit and I’d just take off, only seven or eight, and I could already get around the city. Most of them just wanted the money from the state for taking care of me. They didn’t give a shit what I did, as long as I didn’t bother them and they got their check.”

  “That must’ve been hard. I can’t imagine being a kid and not having a support system.”

  I shrug. “You make do with what you have. Life doesn’t deal us all the same hand.”

  “Do you remember your parents at all?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. Never knew my dad. I have very brief memories of my mom and it’s like I can barely picture her face still. Sometimes we’d have a place to stay, sometimes we wouldn’t. She went to jail once for shoplifting, for like two days, and I was on my own.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Four.”

  “Oh my God.” She puts a hand to her mouth, then catches herself and tries to look as normal as possible. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It made me stronger. I had to learn how to survive at a young age.”

  “Did you ever, you know, see anyone? Talk to someone?”

  “Like a counselor?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  “I had to, once she turned me over to the state. I don’t know if it really did any good, though. I was already cynical of the world at a young age. Had to be. I’d see kids walking with their parents and you either give in and crack, or you just harden, shut everything out and do what you have to do.”

  Harlow winces a little, like she doesn’t want to ask the question that’s burning in her mind. “Do you hate her? For what she did?”

  I shake my head. “No.” I turn to her. “She was addicted to drugs, made a lot of bad choices, from what I can remember or what I was told later. You know, some people just shouldn’t have kids, but they do, and I’m what happens when they do.”

  Harlow’s jaw clenches. “It pisses me off.”

  I didn’t mean for all that to spill out in front of her, I just… I don’t know. She makes me want to open up and talk about things, te
ll her all my darkest secrets, how I feel. I don’t know what it is about her, but I just feel like—me. Like I’m not acting to get through the day. Like I’m real, if that makes any sense.

  “Anyway, why I brought you here, on our date.” I put some added emphasis on the word date.

  “Yeah, you’re killing it with the charm right now.”

  We both laugh.

  “Anyway. This place was my therapy, when I’d sneak out. I’d sit back and look at all the happy people in love, the kids with their families, and I’d make up stories about them in my head. I’d think how they’re pretending to look happy, be perfect, but make up all these problems or crazy shit that was going to happen as soon as everyone wasn’t watching, and I’d laugh about it. Some of them got pretty wild, the stories I’d think up.”

  Harlow laughs. “That’s so dark and fucked up, and I think I love it.”

  I smile back at her and shrug. “It’s the only way I could get through the days, you know?”

  Harlow grins. “I totally get it. It sounds like something I’d have done too.”

  I whip my head around. “Okay, Collins, let’s spot a mark.”

  “Oh, oh, I got one.” Harlow glances over at a lady walking a giant black poodle.

  “Relationship with the dog, you’re a pro already.”

  Harlow breaks into some kind of mommy voice like someone would use to talk to a dog they pampered nonstop. “I know we look so happy right now, Peanut, but I know you took those dog biscuits and shredded the toilet paper all over the bathroom.”

  I’m dying laughing already.

  Harlow grits her teeth a little. “But when all these people aren’t watching and we get around the corner, I’m going to walk you right past that sausage place you love and make you sniff it and watch me eat it right in front of you. And no groomer for you this week. Your ratty ass hair is gonna get all knotted up and I’m going to kick back, chain you to the couch, watch The Price is Right, and smile my ass off at you until you learn to quit fucking stuff up around the house and worship me like a good little doggie.”

  I’m dying laughing. “Fucking perfect.”

  Harlow leans into me and her shoulders are bouncing she’s laughing so hard. “This is the best.”

  “I know, right?” I shrug and straighten up. “Okay, okay, let me do one.” I spot a very young, beautiful mom with a baby strapped around her chest in one of those carrier things. “Got it.”

  Harlow looks out at them and dies laughing again. “Going for the single mom. Ruthless. Can’t wait to see where this goes.”

  I break out my best female voice. “I need you out here to take selfies for my Insta.”

  Harlow doubles over.

  I shake my head back and forth. “But you stole my youth from me. I can’t even walk into my closet and look at my old clothes without crying, you little shit.” I break character and start laughing. “We are so fucked up for doing this.”

  Harlow glances over at me and just smiles. I haven’t seen her smile this much ever. She shakes her head back and forth. “Nah, I think people who don’t do this aren’t normal. You have to be able to smile at the dark parts of reality and find some way to deal with that. Otherwise, it consumes you from within.”

  I stand up and hold out a hand.

  She looks at it. “What are you doing?”

  I nod toward the park. “Come on, let’s go for one of these walks and let someone else make up our story. It’s not fair if you can’t be the one being laughed at too.”

  She stands up and takes my hand, grinning. “Okay.”

  We walk a few steps.

  “Kind of like Pedro and Bill watching us make out the other day?”

  “Exactly like that. It kept me from murdering them.”

  We pass a small garden and continue along a sidewalk.

  “What’d you say to them?”

  I snicker. “Oh, I let them have it for a second. Then, I laughed.”

  “Really? You looked pretty pissed when you took off after them.”

  I turn to face her, and the way the light hits her face, I just want to kiss her. I always just want to kiss her. I put my palms back on her face. “I told them how I wanted to stay away from you, that it’s no good, it could ruin so many things, but I just can’t. I just fucking can’t.”

  “Cole—”

  I cut her off with a soft kiss, right on her lips. It’s like I melt into her the second we touch. This is all so bad, like we’re two cars speeding right at each other, playing a game of chicken. Neither one of us will give in and veer off, do the smart thing. We won’t be satisfied until we’ve collided and burst into a wreck of twisted metal and burning flames.

  Once we part, we walk around the park a little while longer, then I lead us back toward my car.

  “Where we going?”

  I glance over at her. “My place.”

  She doesn’t let go of my hand and doesn’t stop walking with me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Harlow Collins

  I can’t believe I’m going home with him.

  A little louder, so I can hear myself.

  I can’t believe I’m going home with him!

  What are you thinking, Harlow? This will end badly.

  I look up at him. It feels so right, though. The universe wouldn’t make me feel this way unless it was what I was supposed to do, would it?

  I can’t believe how much Cole Miller has made me smile in the last hour. It’s not like I’m purposely frowning all the time, it’s just that I can’t deal with most people. I always have somewhere to be, something to accomplish, and they do nothing but get in my way. They get on my damn nerves. To be fair, Cole gets on my nerves too, but that’s different. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose, and when he’s himself, and genuine, and real, it’s impossible for him to irritate me. I’m drawn to him like a magnet when I get those glimpses of him, like making up the stories in the park.

  We head into his condo building and over to the elevator. I look down and he’s still holding my hand. I can’t remember when I’ve ever held hands with a boy this long. I can’t remember ever wanting to hold hands with a boy.

  Usually, I never want to be touched and now all I want is to feel Cole against me the rest of my life. I never want him away from me.

  When the doors to the elevator close, we attack each other. It’s bad. Like full-on he-might-rip-my-clothes-off-in-the-elevator bad but my hips surge into him, wanting to get closer, to feel more of him. His hard cock presses up against me and his hands go to my ass. He digs his fingers in and I groan against his lips. There’s an electricity buzzing between us and I fight the urge not to rip his shirt straight off him.

  A few more seconds and we’ll be in his apartment. The wait is like an eternity.

  His tongue thrusts against mine and we’re like two fighters warring for position, both grappling for the upper hand.

  He finally gets hold of me and spins me around, pushing me chest-first into the side of the elevator, and I start to worry we might break something in here. His tongue trails along my neck up to my ear as his hands slide down, tracing every curve of my hips.

  “I’m gonna make you come so hard you pass the fuck out.”

  “Holy sh—”

  Ding. Ding.

  Fuck, the elevator doors start to separate, and I straighten my hair as best as I can. Cole smooths out his clothes and adjusts himself in his pants, and we both stand at attention like two kids who just got caught passing notes in class.

  We’re both suppressing laughs, partly at the situation, and probably because we both know we’re acting insane, but we’re doing it together and there’s something special about that. Something shared between just the two of us; a secret from the world that makes the whole thing even more exciting.

  We step off the elevator and Cole leads the way, pulling his keys from his pocket. He walks right to a door with a woman standing outside it.

  Cole freezes in his tracks.

&nbs
p; What the hell?

  I’ve never seen him look like this before. His face is pale, and his fingers tremble a little, jingling the keys.

  The woman has her head down, like she’s ashamed to even look at him, then her eyes tilt up meekly to meet his.

  I know who she is before he even says the word.

  “Mom?”

  “Hey.” The word almost comes out of her mouth as a whisper.

  I glance back and forth at Cole then his mother, and I lean back a little, toward the elevator. “Cole, I should—”

  He glances over to me, and he’s like a deer in headlights. I can’t even imagine what must be going through his mind right now. He shakes his head at me. “No, I mean, yeah, no.” He inhales a deep breath.

  “Sorry, I should—” His mom starts to walk past us, but he steps in her path and offers her a smile, but I can’t tell if it’s genuine or not.

  “No.” He nods a little. “It’s okay, come on.” He starts toward his door, and then turns to me. “Will you come with us?”

  I have no fucking clue what to do right now. This is so fucking awkward. One second I’m so turned on I can’t see straight and the next Cole Miller’s mother is standing in front of his door, waiting for him. I know I have it bad for him, but this seems like something they should do alone. We’ve barely even been on any dates. “Cole, it’s okay, you two should—”

  “Please?” His eyes plead with me, like he doesn’t want me to leave him alone with her.

  What the fuck? How am I supposed to say no when he looks so vulnerable right now? He’s more exposed than I’ve ever seen him in my life and he just spilled his guts to me at the park about everything he’s been through.

  I nod again, hesitantly. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  We all walk inside, and I don’t even really have time to get a look around his place because hello, Cole’s estranged mother was at his door when we were about to come have hot-as-hell sex—again.

  His mom walks through the place like she’s afraid to touch anything. I can’t get a read on her and usually I have a sixth sense about people. I can usually sum up their motivations in one glance. She looks haggard, like she’s lived a very rough life—is still living one. She can’t be more than late-fifties or so, but she looks about seventy, like she’s smoked for years. She has sharp lines around her eyes, dirt under her fingernails.