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went straight to see Sam instead.
    “Too long, Ryan. How’ve you been, baby? Coming straight from work, I take it?” She greeted me with a wide smile, her bright red lips popping against her pale skin. They were always striking against her pitch-black hair, which sat in heavy, loose curls around her shoulders. She was a spitting image of a 1950s pin-up girl. A Bettie Page covered in tattoos, badass bangs, curves and all.
    “Yeah, just had two classes this morning. I have a business dinner tonight, but I have a few hours. Thanks for squeezing me in. Things have been busy as hell, but good. How’s Jess been?”
    “She’s been great, but oh, man, she keeps bringing these dogs home from work—you know how she gives me those puppy dog eyes and I cave every damn time? Anyway, we’ve already adopted three of them, and I told her no more. So between that and work, I have my hands full.” She laughed and started preparing everything, turning to take my shirt. Setting it on top of my blazer, she returned to look at my bare skin and gave me that devious look of hers. “So, what’s the deal, Romeo? How are the birdies holdin’ up? Still prompting lots of panty dropping, no doubt?”
    I chuckled and shook my head, following her gaze to my raven tattoos. “Nah,” I ran my hand over the black ink, “not quite.” Well, they sure as hell dropped Kate’s panties often, but I wasn’t one to kiss and tell.
    “ Mmmm , ‘tis a sad day in Ryan Land when the panty dropping comes to a halt, ay? Does this mean you finally got tired of being Mr. No Good Manwhore? Have you finally found a girl?”
    “Ouch,” I faked a punch to the gut, squinting my eyes in pain, “shit, I forgot you totally don’t mince words with me, do you?”
    “Hell no, baby. Life’s too short for bullshit, that’s Jess’s motto. And I stand by it one hundred percent. So who is she?”
    “Who is who?”
    “The woman I clearly need to meet if she tamed your sorry ass?”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Oh, you wanna play me, baby? Who has the needle in her hand right now, huh? Out with it.” She cocked a black brow and I sighed heavily.
    She had me.
    I knew it was coming, I guess I just wasn’t ready for it. Sam had been a good friend of mine for years—since I’d been with Jamie. I met her with Jamie, actually, during college. We ran into each other at a club one night. The band had been playing a terrible Radiohead cover—terrible because they butchered it, not because of any lack of brilliance on Radiohead’s part—and we instantly bonded when we sought refuge at the bar for a drink to try and tune out the tortuous sounds. Jamie wasn’t threatened by Sam, since Sam was there with her girlfriend, Jess, and I felt as if I’d known the girl for years after shootin’ the shit for less than twenty minutes.
    It was instant friendship.
    Since then, we both got busy and lost touch. Well, it was more like Sam just got lost. She couldn’t stand Jamie and thought she was all wrong for me from day one. Then I began my love and leave ‘em streak when things ended with Jamie, and it hurt her to watch me rip through women like tornadoes. She’d never stopped being my friend, just made herself scarcer, loving me from a distance. While I was engaged to Jamie, I’d met up with Sam and Jess every now and then on my own, but gradually we saw each other less and less. Until I showed up at her shop after Jamie left, demanding she ink me.
    I remembered the look she gave me like it was yesterday.
    She approached me with her palms up, cautious like she was approaching an animal with rabies. After asking me over and over again if I was sure I wanted the ravens, she finally gave in and did the job. She’d warned me that every time I looked at the birds, I’d think of Jamie, but I told her that was the point.
    I wanted to remind myself how much self control, confidence, pride, and sanity I’d allowed myself to lose because of her. By