âTakes practice. Maybe you could use some help.â Maybe she could use a vote of it from someone worth listening to. He wasnât sure, but maybe heâd get to find out. âWhat type is that?â He wanted to know, quirking a brow.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. âMaybe youâre just more badass than me, Gen. Ever think of that?â He shook his head. He didnât get into tattoos until after heâd designated, and from there it had just been an idle thing rather than a hobby. âA big shot artist should wear a lot of art, I figure. So it would make sense.â
Oh that was cheeky. Xavier couldnât help how it turned him on, even if he tried to keep himself under control. âJust donât keep me waiting,â he said to her. âIf you wait too long, you may lose the opportunity. And Iâm a catch.â He gave her a wink at that before taking a sip of his drink.
When he took her hand, he didnât shake it. Instead, he caught her eyes as he brought it up to his lips. He considered turning it over to press them to her pulse, but thought that might be too brazen. Her knuckles received the honor. âPleasureâs all mine.â
âSome help in my confidence levels?â Gen asked, tilting her head before she let out a little snort. âGood luck.â WHen he spoke again she looked to him, shrugging, âThe type that can handle upset and heartbreak. Or maybe the type that avoids it altogether.â Like recognizes like after all.
When the topic turned lighter, more teasing, she smirked, âOnly maybe?â She shot back, clearly more than a little amused. She had to resist the urge to snort again though, âI donât know about big shot. Most of my art is napkin doodles or half-done canvases scattered around my apartment. I have at least a dozen sketchbooks and not a single one is full.âÂ
Sheâd finished her bread, didnât have a drink...she had nothing to occupy her hands with, nothing to divert her attention to..--so she had nothing to focus on aside from the way her heart skipped a beat, her stomach fluttering. âAnd if you got your way with that opportunity? ..What would you have in mind?â