But I couldn’t get a tattoo from them. Because if it were Bennett tattooing me, all the lines would get messed up because I’d probably end up climbing him again. And if his pack smelled anything close to as good as he did? I would keel over and perish.

Not to mention they were all hot. Let me spread frosting on you and lick it off just as an excuse hot.

Maybe…

The tiniest part of my mind held a spark of hope, but I dismissed it just as quickly. One delicious smelling Alpha and one dance didn’t mean anything. Besides, they would know who I was because of how we met and the party. Either they wouldn’t want to deal with the kind of attention that came with even speaking to me, or they’d be more interested in Eva and her connections.

I slowed down my movements. My thoughts were making me move too fast, and speed didn’t make the best paint in my experience. For some pigments, maybe, but this was already fine and needed more mixing than crushing.

And there it was. I fought off the new wave of loneliness that washed over me, as they had every few hours since I came home. Fucking hell. Maybe I just needed to get laid.

Instantly, I recoiled.

Sex was fine. Great. But I’d learned through one too many encounters it was easier to stay home with a vibrator than risk either my date calling the paps, calling out Eva’s name during orgasm, or any of the other ridiculous things which had happened. Few of which I’d ever told anyone.

I’d be fine.

I was always fine.

Grabbing my little plastic containers from the box I kept them in, I lined them up after adjusting the camera to a closer angle. I would only need about five for this batch. Slowly, I scraped the paint off the marble and gently dripped it into the boxes in equal measurement.

One of my favorite parts.

The jarring dissonance of my phone ringing against the music made me jump. Eva’s name lit up the screen. I tapped off the music before I answered the call on speaker and went back to filling the paint pots. “Hello.”

“Wow, you sound like shit.”

I rolled my eyes. “And that kind of greeting is going to make me feel better?”

She laughed. “Fair point. I have the afternoon off. Want to have lunch?”

“I was actually planning on remaining in my house for the rest of history. I’m good.”

She sighed. “Come on, May-may. We’ll go to someplace tiny and dark with no room for photographers to follow us, and the whole thing will take two hours. Then I’ll let you slip back into whatever hole you’ve dug for yourself.”