Page 22 of Goldilocks

“I know, but they have a limit of checking out only two books. Students can check out twenty.”

“As long as you don’t max me out, it’s fine,” Sam said. “Or you can look up the online catalogue, and I’ll pick up what you want while I’m there, save you the trip. Just tex – call and tell me, I’ll get them.” Sam would have an easier time just remembering the books than reading a long text message.

“I’m Ivan,” Ivan introduced himself, and Sam glanced over, realising he’d been leaning in, every spec of his attention on Connor. He winced, adjusting himself so that he was facing them instead. Ignoring them was bad form since this was supposed to be a catch-up with his brother.

Connor didn’t pull away from Sam; the only part of him to move was his eyes as they flicked towards Ivan. “You can’t tattoo Laurence either,” he said.

Sam snorted down a laugh. “Come on.” He nudged him.

“I could tattooyou, if you liked,” Ivan smiled, friendly. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.

“I don’t like needles. And I’m serious, donottattoo Laurence.”

“Connor.”

“It’s the first thing he said to me when I got off the boat,” Connor said, looking back at Sam. “‘Sam’s brother is going to give me a tattoo.’”

“He’s seventeen,” Sam pointed out. “He doesn’t need your permission to get a tattoo.”

“I’ll sink your boat.”

Sam laughed again, and Connor cracked a smile.

“What design was he thinking?” Nick chimed in as he picked up a chair and joined them. His amber-coloured eyes darted between Ivan and Eric, and unlike Connor, who basically ignored them when he sat, Nick acknowledged them. “I’m Nick. We met at college yesterday,” he said to Eric, then moved his attention to Ivan. “Laurence said you’re tattooing him.”

“They’re not,” Connor said.

“You’re the one who doesn’t like needles. Laurence is fine with them.”

“I thought you’d be on my side?”

“I don’t have your control issues.”

Connor narrowed his eyes at Nick.

“Can I scoot in here?” Laurence asked, popping up between Ivan and Eric. He flashed a smile and doe eyes at both men, who assented to him joining them. Laurence placed a sketchbook between them, opening it up before dragging over a chair to sit on. “I have a few designs I was thinking of for a tattoo,” Laurence said.

Sam sipped his drink to hide his smile.

Both Ivan and Eric looked interested in the sketches. “You drew these?” Ivan asked, sounding impressed. “These are great.”

Laurence beamed at him.

“I have a strict no-tattoo rule on my boat,” Connor said pointedly.

“I was thinking about something like this.” Laurence ignored Connor. “But actually, seeing how your tattoo wraps around your arm, maybe something like this?”

Ivan leaned over Laurence’s shoulder, studying the drawings. “I could do something like that easy, although if you’re designing it yourself, Eric is the best at transferring designs to the body. He’s got a knack for making everything flow right.”

“It’s an Adonis-enforced rule,” Connor added.

“You letNickon board,” Laurence shot back, casting him a defiant look.

Connor turned to Nick in surprise. “You have a tattoo? Where? A tramp stamp you’re hiding from Dad?”

“It’s not a tramp stamp,” Nick said.

“Food’s ready.” Trevor’s deep voice halted Connor’s interrogation. He set a tray of dishes in the centre of the table. “Laurence, did you get everyone’s drink orders?” he asked, gaze flicking to the sketchbook on the table.