Free The Strongest Steel by Scarlett Cole

reached out and put a gentle hand on her arm. “Are you going to go? You know I would go with you in an instant if you wanted me to.”
    Harper put her wine down and cautiously placed her hand on top of Drea’s. “I know you would, honey, but I still can’t face him. I contacted my lawyer today about submitting a victim impact statement for consideration. Lydia is going to help me pull it together.”
    Which was why her tattoo was so important. It was time to move on and she needed to get rid of the permanent reminder, reclaim that part of her. Otherwise Nathan was always going to own her.
    Her mind wandered back to Trent working away on her design. She imagined him in a fitted T-shirt like that first night and those dark jeans that hugged his butt. He always seemed to have his baseball hat on, but she imagined him without it. Every ounce of his concentration focused on his sketch.
    This time the pillow did hit her square on the shoulder. “Back in Trentville?” Drea questioned with a laugh.
    “Sorry. I don’t know, Drea. I think he might be under my skin a little bit. A large part of me isn’t sure I’m ready. I mean I still freak out, yet for the first time in forever, I’m thinking about a guy.”
    “So go with it.” Drea leaned over to put her hand lightly on Harper’s shoulder, ignoring the subtle flinch. “It can’t be right that I’m the only person in the world you’ll tolerate touching you.”
    “You aren’t.”
    “What do you mean, ‘You aren’t’? Did you make out with him already?” The screeching made Harper’s ears ring.
    “No. But I let him hug me in his office the other day.” Remembering the comforting strength of his arms made her sigh.
    Maybe Drea was right. Maybe she didn’t need to be alone anymore.
    *   *   *
    She couldn’t look up. He was watching. She could feel it. Waiting. Patiently. Immobilized on the bench outside of the studio, Harper studied the time on her cell phone. Twenty minutes late, and he knew she was sitting right there.
    This is what she wanted, right? Why couldn’t she just walk in there? Why was this so freakin’ hard? Covering the scars was never going to erase the memories of that night, but she could get on with the future if she just did this.
    The mental pep talk was on a continuous loop—and had been since she’d choked down her breakfast. If she didn’t go in, Nathan won. Well, won more. He’d already won when she’d run to escape him and had given up everything she’d known. How much longer was she going to let him keep control of her life?
    No more. She could do this.
    Harper lifted her gaze and looked into the store, immediately locking eyes with Trent. It was time. She knew it. He gave her the briefest of nods. Returning it, Harper stood.
    The ring of the bell was lost over the music blaring. She felt like the geek who’d just entered the cool kids’ party. It couldn’t be true that every single person in there was staring at her, but it certainly felt like it.
    “Hey, Harper,” Cujo said, breaking the ice. “Good luck today. It’s going to look deadly when you’re done.” He walked over, leaning in slightly to bump her shoulder with his.
    Harper instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. She knew Cujo meant nothing by it, but still. She forced herself to drop her arms back to her sides.
    She turned. “Hey, Trent.”
    His smile was breathtaking. “Licorice?” He offered her the pack of chewy, red candy.
    Harper took a piece. “Discreet way of keeping my blood sugar up?” She took a bite of the sticky rope.
    “Nope. Just love red licorice and wanted to share. Not liking it would be a deal breaker on the whole doing-your-tattoo thing.”
    Harper laughed. It felt good to release some of the tension that had been building inside.
    “I happen to love it, though I like black licorice better.”
    He pointed to the door. “That’s it. Get out of my studio. Black licorice is one step from devil worship.”
    “Kind of