Draw Me In Read Online Free

to the entrance. The juxtaposition made me smile.
    With a quick glance at the bus stop’s little shelter, I considered. I hadn’t checked out that side of the street. The place looked really interesting. Should I try over there? I bit my lip.
    Tattoos? I hadn’t really thought about them much. I didn’t have any, but that was mostly because I hadn’t had a lot of spare cash. Most of my spending money went to art supplies and replacing clothes that I’d ruined with paint or turpentine. The idea of a permanent piece of art on my body was exciting, sure, but working at one of those places? Maybe my art would someday appear on someone’s skin. I tried it out, just to see how it sounded in my head. Hailey Jakes— Award-Winning Tattoo Artist. I grinned as a pigeon cooed before pecking my shoelace. I yelped in surprise, and the bird skedaddled.
    I stared at the window. My parents would kill me if they stopped bickering long enough to notice.
    My fists tightened at my sides. That clinched it.
    Looking right, then left, I darted across the empty street and made for the door. Taped to the glass beside the door, a simple sign, black ink on white paper, caught my eye. “Help Wanted,” it declared in black block letters. “See Management.”
    My stomach flipped excitedly as I pulled open the door. A rush of cooled air greeted me, and I stepped into a new world.
    Inside the shop, everything was black or a deep maritime blue, with shiny chrome accents here and there. The reception area with its glossy black counter was tucked into the front right corner, and from there the lobby spread out like a huge living room with sumptuous black leather couches and chrome side tables bearing sculptures. Doors lined the walls on all sides of the lobby, presumably the private rooms where people got tattooed. Awards lined the vibrant blue wall behind the reception desk, where a friendly-looking young woman talked to a burly leather-clad man, both bearing some serious ink. The polished floors gleamed as if daring any dust bunny to ever dare tread upon them. Everything in here was classy with an edge. I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder and waited nervously.
    God, it was gorgeous in here. Almost too nice. Maybe this was a bad idea. I wasn’t a tattoo artist. I could draw, but what if they wanted someone with experience? I wasn’t even sure what kind of job they were offering. What if they laughed me out of the place? I gripped the bag’s strap a little harder. It would probably be better to leave than to embarrass myself again. I wasn’t twenty yet. They’d probably want someone older, someone harder. More than a scared college girl.
    I couldn’t do this. Why had I ever thought I could?
    Turning on my heel, I crossed to the door. Better to leave now than face another disappointment.
    “Hey, can I help you?”
    The deep, masculine voice was like a punch to my gut. I gulped, then turned.
    Good God, he was tall. Well, compared to my five-two, everyone was tall. But he had to clear six feet. I took him in slowly. Vintage jeans, a simple black tee, and arms full of colorful ink. Strong jaw dusted with five o’clock shadow, and silky black hair that curled around his ears. And then his eyes. Dark blue, so dark it was like the sky before an awful storm. He smiled, and I fought the urge to sway. It should be illegal to be that attractive.
    “Sorry,” I stammered. “I’m sorry. I was just, well, I didn’t mean, and it’s . . . Oh, shit.”
    He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made me fight against melting. “Hey, it’s okay. Relax. I’m Neill.”
    He stuck out his hand, which I shook while trying to clear the bewildered fog from my brain. His hand was strong and big, mine nearly disappearing inside it. “I’m Hailey. Hailey Jakes.” I cleared my throat as he released my trembling hand. I wiped the sweat from my palm onto my jeans as he looked straight into my eyes. Why’d he have to be so hot? “I . . . uh, I saw your