Free Shifting Gears (Crossroads Series Book 2) by Riley Hart

not. Landon hadn’t asked him like it was a question. Hell, he wasn’t even sure where it had come from.
    “No, I’m not. I don’t always wear it. Only sometimes. I didn’t feel like this was the right environment for that.”
    Landon’s features went hard. His eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck that. If you wanted to wear it, you should have. If someone has a problem with it, they can kiss our asses.”
    His pulse throbbed against his skin. The anger in Landon’s voice enticed feelings in Rod he wasn’t used to. Feelings that had no business coming out, but they did because Landon was on his side. It wasn’t often he’d had people on his side in his life. “Both of ours?”
    Landon didn’t seem to notice the astonishment behind Rod’s playful words. “Yeah. I hate shit like that and I wouldn’t hesitate for a second before telling someone that.”
    Oh, he was in trouble. He was starting to like this man. Rod wasn’t supposed to like him that way. Hell, Landon wasn’t even interested in sex with him. There wasn’t a chance this was going anywhere. “Thank you for hypothetically defending my honor.”
    A second later, he almost choked when Landon said, “It’s funny because I’ve never really been into that before. Eyeliner looks good on you though. Not as though that matters.” He shrugged, but it mattered to Rod. He was so incredibly fucked.

     
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    They went to the tattoo expo next, which was located in the next indoor facility over. Landon didn’t have any ink himself, but he thought Rod might enjoy it since he had a couple of tattoos, though according to Rod, what he was looking forward to the most was the fireworks tonight.
    The tattoo expo was even busier than the bike show had been, with people at booths getting tattooed and people waiting. “Do your tattoos mean anything?” Landon asked him as they made their way around to tent after tent. He’d been curious about it for a while now.
    Rod glanced at him and frowned, as though he hadn’t expected the question. “The one on my left arm is for freedom, my right is for happiness. They’re Maori. You don’t have any do you?”
    Freedom and happiness, Landon liked that. “No.”
    “Do you want one?”
    Did he? He didn’t think so. “I don’t know. Not right now, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “You’re no fun,” Rod told him, as he approached a stand that said, Peace, Love, Tattoos. There was a woman working who had just finished a tattoo for another lady. “I’m getting one.”
    The artist smiled. “I’m Eliza.”
    “Rod.”
    “Do you know what you want?” she asked.
    “His name on my ass cheek.”
    Eliza’s eyes went big but Landon found himself putting his arm around Rod’s shoulders. “You’re such a fucking nut. He’s kidding. He’s not getting my name tattooed on him. He’s trying to freak me out, but I know his games now.”
    Eliza gave them a kind smile. “I wouldn’t have a problem with it.” She laughed. “I just didn’t expect it. Here, look through this first. You should check out some of my work.”
    She handed Rod a binder, which he set on the counter in front of them. Somehow Landon ended up behind him, with one hand on each of Rod’s shoulders, looking at the book over him. It took him a few minutes to realize what he was doing, and when he did, he let go. “You do beautiful work,” he told Eliza. “Your shading is incredible.”
    “Thanks,” she replied just as Rod said, “I agree. Not everyone can shade well.”
    Landon didn’t know that part, only that he liked what he saw.
    He listened as Rod told her what his other two tattoos meant, and Eliza had some ideas about something similar. The new tattoo was a symbol for strength, which he planned to get on the inner area of his left bicep.
    While Eliza prepared to tattoo Rod, Landon sat beside him, his chair reversed. “Why freedom, happiness, and strength?” He leaned on his arms, which rested on the back of the