Rone spotted Jay right away. He was sitting at the booth in the corner with a few other guys. Rone slid in beside his friend and winced when Jay clapped him on the shoulder.
“What’s up with you?” Jay frowned as he removed his hand.
“Nothing.”
“What did you do to your back? Fuck it up at the gym again? I don’t know why you bother with all that weight training anyway.”
“No,” Rone ground out. “I- decided to get a tattoo.”
Jay’s mouth literally fell open. The guy looked like he’d been ripped off a billboard and slammed, out of place, into that dingy bar. He looked out of place at work too. Guys actually bugged him about being too pretty, with that flowing blonde hair, square jawline and blue eyes, to be a mechanic. There were always jokes about seeing him in this or that commercial or magazine.
“You finally manned up. I can’t say that I’m not surprised.”
“It was time,” Rone mumbled. The same waitress that always worked there, a middle aged woman with tired eyes, lank hair and cigarette stains on her fingers, brought him his usual pint. He stared at the bubbling amber liquid, pretty damn sure that he wasn’t going to drink even a sip. He usually only nursed one throughout the night, but his stomach was still churning.
“You start a back piece?”
“Something like that.”
Jay shook his head. “Always had to be just like me. Or one up me.”
“How can I help it if you’ve always been the cool one? Maybe I was just sick of being the only guy in the place without any ink.”
“So how’d it go? You pass out when they start?”
Rone nearly choked on the sip of beer he forced himself to take. Jay grinned. He stabbed a finger into Rone’s chest. “I knew it. How the hell did you sit through that with your fear of needles?”
Rone shrugged. “I survived somehow.” He was just thankful Jay didn’t take it one step further and ask where he’d been to get the work done.
Jay pounded back the rest of his beer, a dark, foul brew that Rone couldn’t stand. He leaned back in the bench while the guys across from them, some of Jay’s friends Rone didn’t really know well, swapped stories about their female conquests for the week. Jay pretty much ignored them. Rone tuned them out as well. He was just finally starting to get comfortable when Jay leaned in.
“How was the pool party? Sorry I couldn’t make it. The words pool and party should never be together though. Don’t call it that. We’re not fourteen anymore.”
Rone responded with an eye roll. He tried to keep his shit together on the outside, which was made that much more difficult by the fact that he was falling apart on the inside. His level of discomfort rocketed up into the stratosphere. A cold sweat broke out over his neck and shoulders and trickled down his back, making his skin burn with a ferocity that had so far been unrivaled. Every muscle in his body tensed and his stomach went back to feeling like he was going to hurl.
“Fine. It was fine. Just drank beers and got too much sun. You didn’t miss anything.” His conjured up images and his body burned for a whole different reason. He thought about the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips, her breasts, the heat between her legs.
Jay eyed him up, but thankfully their waitress decided to save Rone’s ass by bringing another full pint to the table. She slid it in front of Jay and he was momentarily distracted. Rone made a mental note to tip well. If only Cheryl knew what impeccable timing she had.
“I’ve been seeing this girl,” Jay said, after a long pull of his pint. Rone knew right away that they were off, away on safer footing. He settled in and let Jay brag about his latest conquest. Some blond that he’d picked up from that very bar after his shift at work. “She was amazing. Best I’ve ever had in bed. Lord she gave the best blowjob…”
Jay prattled on and Rone tuned out. It wasn’t anything new, listening to Jay brag about the women he’d been with. Rone used to think they were just stories, made up to impress, but he’d learned, over the years, that they weren’t. Of course Jay could pick up any woman he wanted. He had the model good looks and a body that looked like it had been forged, not created of real flesh and blood. Over the years, he’d also learned that Jay never had anything more than one night stands. It was either the whole young dumb thing or there was something seriously wrong with his friend when it came to the whole love thing. He either didn’t want it or he wasn’t capable of it.
“Maybe I can hook you up with her sister or something. She has some hot friends.”
Rone shuddered. “No thanks. I’m good right now.”
Jay frowned. “What the hell is wrong with you? You act like there’s something wrong with having a good time.”
“Nothing wrong with a good time.” Rone sipped his beer. It did absolutely nothing to keep his stomach from rising into his throat. “You know that I’m not into hooking up, that’s all. I’m good right now, but thanks for the offer.” Rone wished Jay would stop staring at him like he was. Like he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on behind that placid surface.
“I get it,” Jay finally said. He lowered his voice and leaned in. “I know how fucked up it was for you growing up. I know what your mom- uh- well, I get that you don’t want to be like that.” Jay’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. It was his way of apologizing, Rone knew. “How is she anyway?”
Rone shrugged. He’d rather think about anything but his mom, but at the moment she was far safer grounds than skirting around that day at his house, in his pool. “Same as always. I haven’t talked to her in over a year.” His hand fisted around his pint, his knuckles whitening. He didn’t tell Jay that he was afraid one day he was going to get a call saying his mom had died. Overdosed or passed out and choked on her own vomit or maybe her liver would just up and quit. Maybe one of her many boyfriends, the abusive fucks that they usually were, would beat her into oblivion.
“I’m sorry man. That’s rough.” Jay moved back and slammed down half of his pint in one long gulp. He wiped his hand with the back of his mouth. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that shit. You never should have. You had the shittiest childhood. That’s why you should have a little fun now.”
“It wasn’t really that bad.” Rone forced a grin that he didn’t feel. Jay wasn’t completely fooled either. He knew how rough it got for Rone at the worst of times. Jay alone was privy to what Rone had gone through, every single fucking horrible detail. “At least I had you guys. You more than made up for it.”
Jay’s smile was real. “Remember that time you came over for dinner and my mom was trying to learn how to cook something French or whatever? She’d been taking that cooking class and I don’t even know what she was trying to make and it turned out so gross, half burnt and totally not edible. You didn’t want to be rude so you forced it down. I couldn’t even take a bite.”
And just like that they were off, talking about old times, some of the best memories Rone had. It should have made him feel better that he’d averted disaster for another day, but it only made him feel worse. He knew he wasn’t going to stop taking to Heather. He wasn’t going to stop doing more than that either. He wanted her more than he ever had and now… now he knew that she wanted him too. Sooner or later Jay was going to find out and he was sure, beyond a doubt, that it was going to be the end of a friendship that had made them closer than brothers.
Chapter 8
The Follow Up
Heather
She knew she shouldn’t but she toyed with the idea of following up on Rone after his sitting. Heather forced herself not to pick up the phone and call, even if she was calling from work. It wouldn’t look right. For two days she battled with herself until finally, Friday at six, when she knew Rone would be off work and probably would answer his cell, she lost the war.
Her hand shook and her stomach sloshed around, doing cartwheels as anxiety took hold. No amount of apprehension would stop her from dialing his number. She’d already gone over every scenario in her head, every e
xcuse as to why she shouldn’t call him. If he wanted to talk to her, he would. Not that he knew her number though, and walking into her workplace was probably too intimidating and unacceptable in his mind. So maybe, just maybe, he was leaving it up to her to reach out.
After an entire lifetime of not truly allowing herself to feel, she figured taking one chance wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like the whole afternoon in his pool didn’t exist either. Whatever happened that day felt cut off, like they had unfinished business. Whatever was between them, she wasn’t content to just let it lie anymore.
Heather used the work phone. She dialed Rone’s number and waited. It rang. Once, twice, three times, four. She was about to hang up when his deep voice came over the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is Heather.” She winced at her own obviousness. “I was just calling to see how the tattoo is healing.”
The line was silent for a long time. If it wasn’t for the fact that she could still hear him breathing, she might have thought that he’d hung up. “Do you call your other clients to follow up on them?”
“Uh….” Shit. She hadn’t expected Rone to actually call her bluff. “Sometimes I do. We like to make sure everything is going okay, especially when it’s your first time.” That sounded wrong, even to her own ears and she winced. She felt the terrible creeping start of a blush spreading over her cheekbones, heating her face uncomfortably. She’d waited to call until everyone was with their clients so there was no one else around the shop to see or hear her at the moment. Thank goodness for small mercies.
“In that case,” Rone said, his tone underscored with dry humor, “I guess I’ll say that it’s healing well.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“But on the other hand, I guess I’m just taking my own word for it. I can’t actually see it. It feels fine though. Aches sometimes. Stings. Hurts to sleep on. Keeps me up at night.”
Silence stretched over the phone line. She could still hear Rone breathing. His words bounced through her brain. Keeps me up at night. She couldn’t help but wonder what else kept him awake. Thoughts of her? Seriously? I need to get real.
“You could… come over and check it out for yourself. Make sure everything looks fine. I wouldn’t even be able to see if it was infected.”
“Have you been washing it every day?”
“In the shower.”
Heather’s heart started to slam double time against her ribs. Lord, the thought of Rone in the shower, slick and wet, made her achy all over. An embarrassing rush of wetness gathered at the juncture of her thighs and she squeezed them together under the desk, glad she was wearing leggings and not a dress or a skirt. She silently cursed herself for ever having phoned him from work.
“Well- it should- should be fine,” Heather stammered. Her mouth felt like it was suddenly stuffed full of cotton balls.
“So you don’t want to come over?”
“I…”
“That wasn’t what this call was about?”
Face definitely on fire, Heather resisted the urge to slam down the phone. “Like I said, I was just checking up. I do this. It’s part of my job.” She wasn’t exactly lying. She’d followed up with other clients over the years. Clients who hadn’t sat well or who they thought might not take such good care of their tattoos or be confused about the healing process seeing as it was their first time.
She couldn’t force out another word. She wanted to lie, to tell him that it was the only reason she was calling, but she couldn’t. They both knew it wasn’t.
“Tell you what. I’m going to be out going for a drive later. Maybe you can do me a favor and take a look at it, just to make sure it’s good to go. Or just to put some lotion on it. It’s drying out and it’s getting itchy and I can’t reach most of it myself. I could stop by your place. Just for half an hour or so.”
“Er- my place is- uh- not that nice.” Was it possible for her face to get any hotter?
“Doesn’t matter one way or another to me.”
“Maybe I could offer you a beer. I have some in my fridge. They’ve been in there forever and I swear they’re going to expire soon.”
“A beer would be nice. It was a long day. Hot out.”
“Yes. It was hot.” Great. So now they were done to talking about the weather. She absolutely hated when people talked about the heat. They lived in Miami for goodness sake.
“I’ll be over then. What time do you get off work?”
“An hour. I have to walk home though.”
“I could pick you up.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I can wait down the block. No one would have to know that you’re getting a ride home from the loser who passed out in the chair the other day.”
Heather had to laugh at Rone’s depreciating tone. Was there anything funnier or sweeter than a man who could poke fun at himself? His sense of humor always had been dry, sometimes crass, but she loved that about him. She loved the fact that he could always make her laugh. Even their mom often thought Rone was hilarious. That was saying a lot for Leanne.
“Alright.” She sighed into the phone, just to be sure he heard it. “I guess you can pick me up. Wait over on twenty-third. There is a pizza place that you can park in front of, so I know where to find you.”
“Copy. Over and out.”
“Dork.” Heather wasn’t sure if he heard her or not. The phone clicked and the line went dead. By the time she hung up the receiver, the nervous energy that had plagued her since she’d last seen Rone was already starting up. The anticipation of being near him again was almost more than she could bear.
She didn’t want to be completely useless so she stood and busied herself cleaning up the reception and front area for the rest of her shift. She gathered up her backpack, her laptop, her phone and her purse after she was off. She called a goodbye down the hall that both Kian and Mike echoed back. They were both going to be done with their clients shortly, but usually Kian locked up. It was rare that she had to do it. Everyone seemed to far prefer that she open ahead of them in the morning. By the time they walked in, the lights were on, things were up and running and there was coffee in the staff lounge.
She only had to walk a few blocks, but they seemed endless. Her excitement grew, to the point where she felt like there was a swarm of butterflies caught in her throat. Her stomach was doing great big leaps and when she spotted Rone sitting in his lifted black truck, her heart really started thumping against her ribs. Her hands grew clammy and when she opened the passenger door she was shocked they didn’t leave a wet print behind.
The door was heavy and closed behind her with a solid bang. Suddenly shy, she glanced over at Rone, who, as always, looked utterly amazing. His face obviously hadn’t seen a razor for a couple days and that was just fine with her. She liked the fresh growth of a dark black beard that he was sporting. Dark eyes burned into her, but when he smiled, it was warm and charming. Though he hadn’t shaved his beard, his head gleamed, like it had recently had a date with a razor. She liked that about Rone. His shaved scalp really brought out his other features. Even though he was a guy, it was safe to say his eyes were soft and that they sparkled. No one could accuse any of his other features of being soft. He was carved entirely of iron and that t-shirt he had on was doing its level best not to rip off his massive frame. His jeans were stained and dirty, like he’d truly just left work, but she liked that too.
Best of all, he still smelled like the shop. Heather knew most women liked their men to be clean and smell like cologne or aftershave or something manufactured. It wasn’t that she hated that, but she certainly enjoyed the raw smell of man that much more. She liked the subtle scent of welding fumes and shop grease, or whatever the heck was always ingrained in the cracks of Rone’s hands. She didn’t like overpowering BO or anything, but a man who smelled like he made an honest living was just fine with her. She was also entirely aware that if she ever uttered those thoughts out loud, p
eople would think she was pretty damn disgusting.
“Where to my lady? I would say your chariot awaits, but you’re already in it.”
Heather giggled. “God, Rone, you always know what to say to make everything just right, don’t you?” She turned to him and was amazed to see color rising up on his cheeks. She realized that she’d embarrassed him, which was just perfect, since she felt completely flustered in turn.
“I suppose if you think that, I’d be happy to let you believe it,” he finally said. He offered her a small smile. “Are you going to give me your address or should I just drive us to the edge of the city and you can check my back from the box of the truck?”
Heather’s insides turned into a melted mess. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think rusty truck box metal would be the best thing for the open wound on your back right now.”
“Wouldn’t that imply that I’d have to lay down in the truck box with a shirt off? Now why would I do that?” Her blush was back and in a big way. Rone laughed softly to himself as he put the truck in gear. “I’m just kidding. Address?”
She finally had the presence of mind to give it to him, before she could say anything else that would embarrass herself further. She fell silent for the drive, which didn’t take very long. The city flashed by out the window. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had picked her up from work. Sometimes, if it was raining, she took the bus, but not usually.
“This is?” Rone asked as they rolled up in front of the squat brick building that was her home. It was ugly, with graffiti on the side, crumbling bricks here and there, a lawn that was virtually all weeds and various flags in the windows. The garbage dumpsters overflowed from the parking lot, which was visible from the road and on the front of the building, the eaves were falling off.
“Yeah.” Heather squirmed. The last person she’d wanted to ever bring there was Rone.
“Nice. I like it.”
Hot Ink: All 3 Tattoo Shop Romance Books + 2 Exclusive Bonus Stories Page 30
