I’d always admired those that had tattoos, and now I wanted one of my own. But the thought of enduring the pain always made me cringe. The horror of facing a needle made it much worse. But recently I’d overcome my fear of needles. Maybe a tattoo was the perfect way to signify a start to a new leg of my journey. I was ready to face even the hardest, most challenging things.
Max walked me up to my apartment. I could tell from the look on his face that he was still feeling a little frustrated.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t the night you expected.”
“Are you kidding?” I looked into his eyes. “It was the best night ever! I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
“Are you serious?” Max shook his head. “We barely made it out of there alive.”
“I know, and that was my favorite part.” I laughed.
“You’re an odd one, Sammy.”
“Odd, as in quirky? Or odd as in sideshow museum?” I narrowed my eyes. “Answer carefully.”
“Odd as in no one else in the world is quite like you.”
“I think that’s a compliment.” I unlocked the door to my apartment.
“It is.” He leaned against the doorway. “So when do I get a rematch?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Will the same rules apply?” He smiled dangerously. “When I win, do I get to ask you to do anything I want?”
“If you win.” I smiled. “I guess we’ll just have to see how the cards fall.”
“Cute.” He nodded. “Well, thanks for a fun evening. It certainly was memorable.”
“Thanks for being my muscle.” I stole one quick squeeze of his arm.
“Any time.” He flexed. “Although it would be nice if we didn’t have to start a bar fight everywhere we went.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
“Do you think you can keep yourself out of trouble while I’m gone?”
“I’ll do my best. Bye, Max.” I smiled at him.
“Bye, card shark.” He shook his head as he walked away.
I tried not to let my eyes wander down to the seat of his jeans, but I couldn’t help it. They were just so snug.
I sighed and ducked into my apartment. I felt a brief wave of disappointment that my attraction to Max would always just be a fantasy.
My disappointment gave way to excitement, though, when I decided to update my blog. I was sure that Blue would be interested in how my game turned out.
I walked over to my computer and turned it on. Right away I saw a message from Blue.
SWF,
I have a feeling that you’re going to take the poker world by storm. I’d love to hear an update about how your game went tonight. That is, if I don’t see it on the news first.
Blue
I laughed at his message. Not only because he was getting to know me so well, but also because it had almost turned out to be true. If fists had started flying at the poker table, it might have made the local news. Then again, I had no idea if Blue was local or not. I assumed he was, from comments he’d made, but the truth was, I had no clue.
I resisted sending him a message back right away. I wanted to update my blog first.
As I typed out the events of the evening—being accused of cheating and how it made me feel like a cowboy—I laughed again. It really was absurd to think of me coordinating a scam like the one I was accused of concocting with Cowboy Bill. None of the men at the table had believed that I could simply just be that clumsy—or that lucky. But I knew that I was.
And I had friends like Max and Blue, who were there for me no matter how clumsy I was. That made me the luckiest person I knew.
When I finished my blog I returned to the comments section. I logged in and replied to Blue.
Blue,
It was an amazing night. I won the pot, but didn’t come home with a dime. Wish you could have seen the look on my face when I saw pocket aces in my hand. Another fun-filled evening. One of these days we’ll have to try our luck at sharing one of those.
SWF
I hovered the mouse pointer over the submit button. I didn’t know if I was daring enough to send the message through. Would Blue decide to take me up on the suggestion?
With a tattoo in my future, I decided I was brave enough to find out—and strong enough to deal with whatever the result might be.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List
16 Get a Tattoo
By
Lillianna Blake
Copyright © 2015 Lillianna Blake
Cover design by Beetiful Book Covers
All rights reserved.
LilliannaBlake.com
Chapter 1
Slowly I opened my eyes.
Today was the day, but I wasn’t sure that I was ready for it.
I’d spent most of last night on all kinds of websites. I was researching the possible consequences of getting a tattoo. Some websites should just be illegal. After viewing more than my share of infected skin and drooping flesh, I’d finally gone to bed feeling slightly discouraged.
Now that I was awake, I knew that I had to make a decision.
I had already picked out a tattoo parlor with a stellar reputation. I had already enlisted Max to go with me. I just wasn’t sure if I could do it.
When I’d first thought about getting a tattoo, I’d been determined that I would be able to go through with it. But the more I thought about it, the less certain I felt.
I tugged on my slippers and padded over to my computer. It had been some time since I’d revisited the writing project I was fiddling around with. Lately, it had been on my mind more and more—to the point that I was ready to make a commitment to finishing it. That fact that I was even considering publishing my work was pretty amazing to me.
When I opened up the file and began to read over what I’d already written, I felt as if the character in the book was coming alive for me.
Zara was a brave and daring woman who never took no for an answer. She was adventurous, confident, and determined to make her own choices. She was everything that I felt like I’d yet to become—but yearned to be. That was the main reason I’d been keeping her a secret. I felt to reveal Zara was to reveal the truth about myself.
Zara had a tattoo of a tiara on the inside of her ankle. It had deep meaning to her, because of the changes she’d made in her life. It reminded her whenever she looked at it that she was a warrior princess, worthy of everything amazing that was happening to her.
I wanted to feel that way about the tattoo that I was considering—that I didn’t owe anyone an explanation or an apology for it. But I wasn’t Zara. I was Samantha, who didn’t even know how to get dressed without considering how people might react to how I looked. If my pants were too tight, were they thinking terrible things about my rear end? If my shirt drooped too low, did people think that I was showing off my cleavage?
All of these thoughts buzzed through my mind each morning. It had become such a part of my routine that I didn’t even notice I was doing it.
But Zara was different. Zara wore skintight leather pants one day and a loose flowing sundress the next. She wore what she felt like wearing and never stopped to consider whether her clothing was acceptable to others.
When I’d first created Zara as a character, I’d made her rail thin and drop-dead gorgeous. I thought that I should stick to what was most accepted by society—what I thought most women wanted to be like.
But I found out that I couldn’t write her that way.
She refused to be thin and she was still drop-dead gorgeous. She was thick where she wanted to be and did what she pleased with her hair. Zara was truly her own woman. But she only existed in my imagination.
I got to know her as I typed each paragraph. I really enjoyed exploring her life and her world. Sometimes I even caught myself wondering what Zara would do in certain situations. I knew that Zara would never Google tattoos, she would just get one. She would never let her fear stop her from moving forward in her life.
That was what I wanted—that freedom. I had imprisoned myself with my own insecurities and I was aching to break free.
As soon as I began to get inside Zara’s head, I felt the excitement about getting the tattoo flood through me once more. I was ready to be that happy and free. I decided that the best way to encourage myself to continue with my plan was to post an update to my blog about it. I always felt stronger about doing things when I knew that others were waiting to find out if I’d been able to accomplish them.
Besides that, Blue would more than likely offer me support. I loved hearing from him, and his words were always inspiring.
I typed up a quick blog post about my intention to get a tattoo. I didn’t think I would get a response very quickly.
By the time I’d dressed and returned to the computer, there was a comment waiting for me from Blue.
SWF,
I wonder what you will get? My mind spins with all of the possibilities. I’m sure it will be something meaningful. I hope that you think about all that you’ve accomplished while you’re getting your tattoo. I started reading your blog just a few days after you first started posting. The change I’ve seen in you from that first post until now has been phenomenal. You have certainly earned your badge of honor, SWF. Good luck. I will be thinking of you.
Blue
I sighed with contentment at his words. As usual, he’d only added to my enthusiasm. I liked the idea of a badge of honor. I could easily see it that way, since months before I would never have even considered getting a tattoo. I had gotten to know myself and grown enough that the possibility was now becoming a reality.
I grabbed a quick breakfast and a cup of coffee to go, then I headed out of the apartment to meet Max.
Chapter 2
Max was at the newsstand down the block. I knew that he liked to stop there every morning for a paper and a chat with the owner of the stand, so I’d offered to meet him there.
As I walked toward him, the wind caught his dark hair and rippled it. I smiled to myself. Max was always the most gorgeous to me when he didn’t know that I was looking at him.
“Morning.” I smiled.
“Morning.” He leaned close and kissed me on the cheek.
To anyone passing by on the street, we probably looked like a couple. I rather liked that.
But we weren’t any closer to being a couple than we had been several months before. I’d not yet been brave enough to cross that line, and most of the time I doubted that I ever would be.
“Are you ready for this?”
“I think so.” I nodded.
We had decided to make a day trip out of it. The tattoo parlor that had the best reputation was about an hour away. I wanted the best if I was going to take the leap. We planned to stop in some shops afterward and explore the area a bit. I loved that Max was always up for spending time with me, even if it was just wandering around and window-shopping.
“Then let’s get going.” He picked up his newspaper. He always bought one, but I rarely saw him read it.
As soon as we reached his car he tossed the paper into the backseat. Once we were settled I began playing with the radio.
“No girl stuff.” He shot a look in my direction.
“Girl stuff?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Max, I don’t think I do.” I pretended to be put off. “What qualifies as girl stuff?”
“Sappy, whiny, moany.” He shrugged.
“Max, I didn’t know you were so last century.”
“Just because I don’t want to listen to depressing music?” He raised an eyebrow and pushed one of the buttons on the radio. Loud rap music began to play.
“Oh, and this is uplifting?” I laughed.
“If you listen to the words, Sammy, you’ll hear the poetry.” He began to attempt to keep up with the pace of the artist.
I couldn’t help it. Just the way he was bouncing in his seat and the expressions that he was making were too much for me to hold back.
“Max, please, please, you’re spitting all over the place.” I laughed.
“You think you can do better?” He grinned at me.
“Challenge accepted.”
I waited for a break in the lyrics so that I could get a good rhythm. Then I began tossing out the words that I knew by heart. Max didn’t know every kind of music I listened to. I didn’t have a type. I liked whatever I was in the mood for.
“Ouch!” Max winked at me. “I guess you showed me.”
“That’s right.” I pushed a button on the radio. “But I’m in the mood for girl music.”
“I thought you said—”
“I was just messing with you.” I laughed and turned the music up. One of the sappiest songs I listened to was playing.
“Ugh.” Max sank down in his seat.
“Just sing, you know you want to.” I nudged his knee with the palm of my hand.
Soon we were singing together with the music at full blast.
Neither of us noticed the cop that had been trailing Max’s car for the last few miles, until the blue and red lights came on.
“Uh oh.”
Max pulled over on to the side of the road. The police car pulled off behind him.
“Were you speeding?” I frowned.
“No. I don’t think so. I mean—I was distracted.” He reached out and turned the radio down.
The officer walked up to Max’s window, which was already rolled down.
“Hi there.”
The officer peeked into the car at Max and then at me. He looked more amused than upset.
“Did I do something wrong, officer?” Max asked.
“Well you do have a taillight out.” The officer shrugged. “I was going to pull you over and give you a warning for it, but I was enjoying the show so much I didn’t want it to end.”
“The show?” I was confused.
“I could hear you both singing. It was actually quite good.”
Max’s cheeks burned dark red. Max was wiling to be silly with me, but around other men he tended to be a bit more macho. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind at the thought of the police officer overhearing his serenade.
“I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t realize the taillight was out.” Max shot a look of warning in my direction.
I knew that he didn’t want me to laugh. I had to turn and stare hard out through the passenger-side window to keep from bursting out laughing.
“Well, don’t worry about it. Just get it fixed as soon as you can. Thanks for the entertainment.”
He turned and walked away from the car. I could see Max’s knuckles were nearly white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I glanced over at him.
“Don’t.” He didn’t even look at me.
I bit into my bottom lip.
“Seriously, don’t!”
I burst out laughing. As soon as I started, Max started laughing too. The officer drove past us with a friendly toot of his horn.
“Only you, Sammy.” He shook his head and looked over at me, his eyes shining. “That could only ever happen to me with you.”
“I’m just special, I guess.” I continued to laugh as he drove off down the road.
I was feeling even more eager to get to the tattoo parlor. I was in a great mood, the weather was beautiful, and Max kept looking over at me with a huge grin.
“That’s for sure.”
We fell into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the trip.
My thoughts became heavier the closer we came to our destination. My heart began to flutter.
When Max turned into the plaza where the tattoo parlor was located, I gripped the handle of the door very tightly.
“Here we are!” Max was cheerful as he parked the car. “Are you ready for this?” He glanced over at me. As soon as he saw my expression his eyes widened. “No, no, none of that. This is a good thing, remember?”
I nodded. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a strange squeak.<
br />
Chapter 3
Max frowned and took my hand in his. “Sammy, don’t worry so much. It’s going to be great.”
“I’m not ready yet.” I shook my head.
“Okay, do you want to go?” He started the car.
“No, I just need a few minutes.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sure I can do this.”
Max rubbed my back slowly. I closed my eyes. I tried to get out of the car—I really did—but I couldn’t bring myself to open the door.
Twenty minutes later, Max got us drinks and snacks from the convenience store at the end of the plaza.
“I’m so sorry. I know I’m wasting our day.”
“Don’t apologize. This is going to take you some time and that’s okay. I got us jerky.” He handed me a stick of it.
“Do you remember what we did with these on our last road trip?” I waved the jerky through the air.
“Don’t start a war you can’t finish, Sam!” Max whipped out his jerky and wielded it like a sword.
“This war never ended!” I slashed my jerky against his.
Soon we were battling each other furiously in the front seat of the car.
A man stepped out of the barbershop beside the tattoo parlor. He stared at us with disbelief as he walked past the car. I didn’t care. When I was playing with Max, I didn’t care what anyone thought of me.
It suddenly struck me that maybe I’d been using Max’s friendship just for that reason. As long as I had Max that I could be myself around, I never had to worry about being myself with anyone else.
“Got you!” Max whacked me right in the forehead with the stick of jerky.
I blinked.
“You lost, Sammy. You have to give me your booty.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not getting my booty.”
“Give it up, Sammy!” He whacked me in the forehead again.
“Fine.” I handed him over my stick of jerky.
“Victory!” He shrieked and waved the sticks of jerky in the air.
I laughed, but my heart was no longer in it.
I loved Max and I would never trade our friendship, but it was hard to realize that I’d been using him as a crutch. Maybe in some ways, he’d been doing the same with me. As long as we had each other, we had our own little world, and we didn’t have to be intimate with anyone else.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 45
