Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) by Lena Bourne Read Free Book Online Page A

now. And the long ass ride back home. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks, even though I slept for more than twelve hours last night.
    Inside the diner, Greg takes off his jacket revealing more of his tattoos. They cover both his arms, painted on so close together I have trouble seeing any one thing.
    "You like the tats?" he asks, winking at me just as the waitress dumps a couple of menus on the table. Her smile disappears as she looks at him sharply then back at me, and walks away.
    "Not really," I say. He got me back, I guess, for that gay comment. Or maybe he is gay and is really hitting on me. I have no idea anymore.  
    "What do you got that's better?" he asks, studying the menu.
    "Nothing," I say.  
    "I should think not," he mutters.
    "I mean, I don't have any tattoos at all," I say leaning back. "But if I did, they'd all be better than yours."
    For some reason, Greg is almost as easy to talk to as David. And I've seriously missed that, more than I let myself realize.
    The waitress comes back and I get a burger and fries, though I'm so not hungry I might as well have just stuck to water.
    "Not a single tattoo?" Greg asks, peering at me like he thinks I'm lying. "How's that even possible?"
    "I just never came across anything I'd want to be wearing for the rest of my life."
    "Not even like something for a girl?" he won't let up. The thought is an icepick straight to the heart. Yeah, I'd get something for Gail. Maybe I should, to remember her by. Though I'd probably just end up scratching it off one night, because I couldn't stand it.
    I shake my head. "Besides you can never get just one."  
    "Tell me about it," he says, glancing down at his forearms.
    "I didn't think I had to," I say and he chuckles again.  
    Then we eat, mostly in silence. I'm imagining what Gail is doing right now and what she'd say if I got a tattoo. Greg's not really big on small talk, and even though he's friendly and easy to talk to, he's still a complete stranger and works for the people who might actually be trying to kill me.  
    The call finally comes just after ten. The ball of nerves is a cement block in my stomach, and I wish I didn't drink so much coffee.

    The headlights of Greg's car glint off a golden emblem on a white plaque to the side of the impound lot entrance. Otherwise it's all dark and looks deserted.  
    My heart thunders in my chest as I take in the high wall surrounding the lot. Why steal cars from a mousetrap? Though with any luck they'll just arrest me tonight, then it'll be all over fast.
    "The car's just behind here," Greg says, turning off the headlights and stopping next to the wall about thirty feet from the entrance. "Don't worry. Everything's arranged."
    He reaches into the backseat for a tightly wrapped bundle, ending in what looks like an anchor.  
    "Here," he says, holding it out to me. "You'll use this to climb over the wall. I'll get the gate open in the meantime."
    I realize it's actually a climbing rope attached to one of those climbing picks. I've never used anything like it. And I haven't climbed a rope since high school gym class.  
    "Don't you have a ladder or something?"
    He shakes his head. "I'll set it up for you."
    I follow him out of the car, careful not to slam the door this time. He leaves his open. It's almost pitch black outside, the only light coming from the floodlights inside the lot, which are well obscured by the wall.  
    I check the wall, though the top is shrouded in darkness. A hard gust of wind makes the pine trees surrounding the lot hiss.
    "Don't they have cameras and shit?" I ask.
    "They'll be off," Greg says, uncoiling the rope.
    "What about dogs?" These kinds of places usually have vicious guard dogs. "I came across some of those once, and I still have nightmares about it."
    That was actually back in the ninth grade when David and me climbed over a wall to check out what was supposed to be an abandoned house. Luckily the old guy who lived there turned out to be pretty nice, which