Page 59 of Just Wait

He shoves his long blond hair back from his face, his aqua eyes meeting mine. They’re striking—a light teal that seems unnatural.

Examining his eyes is totally acceptable.

Following his muscular shoulders down his bare chest to his ripped jeans that hang open at the front…

Not so much.

He is covered in ink that disappears into the waistband of his jeans.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, shaking out his shirt.

I’m not sure how I failed to notice, but the tattoos on his hands are skull faces. While I normally think they’re kinda ridiculous, his were done by an artist with killer talent. The shading was done perfectly to give the nose cavity depth, and they blend surprisingly well with the tattoos on his wrist and forearm.

“The water was scalding, and I could barely breathe while I was trying to get into my jeans,” he says, shrugging. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I wave an arm through the air awkwardly. “I’m used to it. This is your space. Just ignore me. Treat me like I’m one of the guys.”

Oh my god.

Why can’t I shut up?

He pulls a plain white T-shirt down over his tan skin, and I shed a proverbial tear for all the women who missed that show. He’s not overly bulky, but his lithe muscles fill out the shirt just right.

The ends of his hair are wet, but it doesn’t look like he undertook washing it.

Not that I can blame him.

This venue really is boiling.

“I can’t promise to treat you like one of the guys,” Kincaid says, smirking. “But I won’t walk on eggshells, either. How’s that for compromise?”

Damn.

I’ve never been a fan of septum piercings, but his fits his face to perfection. It makes him look edgy, especially with the gauges in his ears and plethora of tattoos.

“Have you decided if you’re sticking around past tomorrow?” he asks, zipping his pants and moving to hook his belt.

“I haven’t.” I sigh, even though I don’t mean to. “If I start asking people if I can stay with them, they’ll want details, and I really don’t want to rehash that right now, but I also don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles, shrugging. “Malcolm has been at least thirty percent more tolerable since you’ve been here. We should probably be thanking you.”

I snort, shaking my head.

They all have this view of Malcolm that I just haven’t seen.

Yeah, he’s hyper and easily excitable, but he reminds me a lot of my best friend. She’s always up for any adventure, and she always sees the best in people. At least, until they screw her over.

If me being around is having a positive impact on Mal, I guess that’s a bonus. I enjoy hanging out with him too.

Kasey leads the way to the meet and greet.

It’s loud.

Noise spills from the open double doors before the room comes into view, and I brace myself for how many people I’m about to have to be around.

Kincaid is directly behind Kasey, and Riser is at my side. Apparently Malcolm is a diva who takes longer to get dressed, but Riser swore he would catch up.

Tennyson and Parish were done getting ready, but I got the feeling they were lingering around, waiting for us to leave to do something.