by Regina Cole
And then, minutes later, she turned the sketchpad so I could see her work.
“Holy shit,” I whispered as I traced a finger alongside the Asiatic lily. “That is incredible.”
She shook her head, a pleased blush staining her cheeks. “It’s not as good as your daffodils.”
“It’s wild, Hailey. It almost looks like I should be watering it right now, it’s that vivid. It might not be as polished as mine, but it’s passionate, and that’s what counts.” I looked into her eyes and lost myself there. She was beautiful, and her work was beyond beautiful.
The words that came out of my mouth next were completely unplanned, but at that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to regret them.
“Would you like to be my apprentice?”
Chapter Nine
Hailey
Stunned, I stared at Neill, my cheeks stinging from the recent bout of tears. I blinked, but he was still there, leaning toward me, his eyes dark blue and earnest.
“Your apprentice?” I repeated, not quite sure I’d heard him correctly.
He nodded. “Yeah. We’d have to work around your front-desk job, but it’s doable. You’ve clearly got the talent, Hailey.” Tracing a finger over the lily’s pointed petal, he smiled. “It takes a while, but it’s just a matter of learning hygiene, technique, and transferring your artistic ability to a living canvas. I mean, you don’t have to love tattoos, but I think you do. It won’t be easy, but I think you’d be great at it. So, what do you think?”
I couldn’t, not at that moment. My brain had shorted out. I shook my head slightly, not in dissent but in confusion. A sudden burst of laughter from the lobby startled me into speaking.“It’s kind of sudden. I’d never thought of becoming a tattoo artist, well, not for more than two seconds, when I applied for this job.” I shifted slightly on the tattoo chair, the vinyl beneath me squeaking in protest. But the idea was starting to take root deep in my brain. I closed my eyes and thought—really thought—about it.
I pictured myself here at Sinful Skin, with a little studio room of my own. The walls would be covered with pieces of my art, canvases that showed my ability in more than one medium. I’d always loved getting assignments in art classes. The challenge of creating something on demand gave my muse a huge rush. In fact, I’d always assumed I’d never stop taking classes, because I loved meeting the challenges that my teachers set before me.
But what if those teachers were clients? What if those assignments were visions of what they wanted on their skin . . . permanently?
When I opened my eyes, Neill was sitting there, his gaze trained directly through to my soul. All my reasons for keeping him at arm’s length seemed far away right then. His face was earnest, full of life and promise. Magnetic—that was the word for him. And I was far from immune to his pull.
I smiled. “I think that’d be great.”
Neill returned the expression, grabbing my hand and squeezing it lightly. Such an innocent motion, but I felt it all the way through my body.
“Awesome. We’ll start tonight, when it gets slower.”
I glanced toward the counter. The memory of the way I’d melted down earlier intruded, but I hastily shoved it aside. I didn’t want to remember, not now. For the moment, I wanted to thank Neill, who had risen to his feet without letting go of my hand. Sliding off the tattoo chair, I looked up at him.
“Thank you,” I whispered. And then, with a bravery I hadn’t known I possessed until that second, I wound my free arm around his neck, tilted my chin skyward, and prayed.
He dipped his head slightly, as if in the thrall of our magnetism just as much as I was.
Raising on my tiptoes, I brushed his lips with my own.
They were smooth but firm under mine. I held on, tangling my fingers in the back of his hair, and parted my lips, begging him silently to deepen the kiss.
His fingers threaded through mine, and he brought my free hand up to join the other, wrapped high on his shoulders. He gripped my hips, drawing my body in close to his.
And when his tongue rested lightly against my lips before delving deep into my mouth, I moaned softly. Though his body was hard, lean, and long, he kept a definite space between us, not melting in to me as I wished he would. But I couldn’t complain, because my body and mind were on fire with what his mouth was doing.
It lasted a few seconds, but it seemed to last for days while passing way too quickly. He lifted his head, eyes glittering as he stared into my upturned face.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” he whispered as he stepped away. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I almost stumbled at the loss of his support. Quickly righting myself, I brought a shaking hand to my lips. “I thought—”
The phone buzzed just then. “Hey, Neill, I’ve got a customer. You free to watch the front?”
I looked at the phone, then back to Neill. Something had passed between us, but I wasn’t sure what.
“I’ll be right there. You go on ahead, Frankie.”
Neill left the studio without looking back at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d upset him somehow, but I knew he’d joined me in that kiss. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to sear the memory into my soul. I didn’t ever want to forget what it felt like to kiss Neill Vanderhaven, and I was afraid that I’d just experienced the last kiss we’d ever have.
A few minutes of deep breathing, I regained my composure and left Neill’s studio. The lobby was mostly empty, and both Frankie’s and Roger’s doors were shut. Neill stood by my desk chair, chatting with a man at the counter.
“Yeah, we can do it now. The problem was caused by the guy overworking the skin in that area. You go over it too many times, it’s going to scab, and the ink will lift right off.” Neill clapped the guy on the shoulder as they turned toward his studio. “I’ll patch it up for you. Least I can do for a guy in the service.” He tossed his next words over his shoulder at me. “I’ll be in the studio if you need me. In the meantime, work on your drawing.”
I cracked a small smile as I looked down at my bag. It seemed the kiss hadn’t made him regret asking me to be his apprentice. The sketchbook I never left home without was poking out the top of my messenger bag, its purple spiral binding bright against the black floor. With a quick glance to ensure that no customers were about, I pulled the sketchbook free and grabbed my pouch of pencils from the upper pocket.
I flipped past pictures of flowers, of faces, of abstract pieces and cartoon characters. When I landed on a blank page halfway through the book, I nibbled the end of my pencil. What to draw? I swiveled back and forth in my desk chair, the friendly squeak repeating with each motion. Closing my eyes, I thought about it.
Yesterday a woman had come in. She’d showed me a picture of her cat, a fluffy black thing with a white splotch on its face.
“This is Amigo. We found him at the shelter when he was just a kitten. He’s sixteen years old now, and I want to get a portrait of him.” The woman had smiled as tears gathered in her eyes. “He’s not healthy anymore. Lots of kidney problems. But I want to be able to do this now, while he’s with me.”
I had given her to Roger, sure the lighthearted and bubbly guy could help her through what was obviously an emotional tattoo. I hadn’t gotten to see the finished product, but I had seen some of Roger’s other work, so I was sure it had come out beautifully.
I gripped my pencil and leaned over the sketchbook, and Amigo began to take shape on the page. The lead scratched across the paper, and I prepared to pour every bit of the emotion I had seen on that woman’s face into this portrait.
I didn’t want to fuck this up. It was too important.
Neill
As I seated my customer on the freshly cleaned tattoo chair, I tried not to let my mind wander back to what had just happened with Hailey. It would be tough, though. My cock was still at half-mast, although the kiss had been pretty damn innocent.
Back to business. I cleared my throat. “What’s your name?”
“Drake.”
“Hang out there for a second, my man. I’ll get my inks together and we can touch this up.”
At Drake’s agreement, I turned and pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves. I set out the tiny plastic cups, glancing back at the tattoo a couple of times to make sure I was getting the correct shades. Fortunately, it seemed to be working. Methodical, precise. Do the job. Don’t think about her. Just do the job.
With my machine set and ready and the arm cleansed and shaved, I sank onto the stool and rolled the tray close. “You ready?”
Drake nodded with a grin. “Go for it.”
With the steady hum of the machine vibrating in my hand, I turned my attention to the healed tattoo in front of me. It was a decent piece of ink, a tiger prowling toward the viewer, but the previous artist had overworked the skin in several places, which had caused scabbing and color loss. An easy fix, and I’d throw in some extra shading and highlight to really make the piece pop. It was the sort of thing Karl had taught me way back when I was an apprentice. I’d have to remember tips like that now, make sure I gave my own apprentice the same good advice.
I lifted my machine from the customer’s skin, wiping down the extra ink and small traces of blood. I took my time, breathing deep through my nose to regain focus.
It was more than stupid to let your mind wander while you held someone else’s skin in your hands. The perfect way to ruin your reputation as an artist, actually. I dipped the needles again, and before I resumed my work, I closed my eyes for a split second and concentrated.
Hailey, that beautiful drawing, the way she’d leaned in to me and kissed me, all of that went into a room way in the back of my brain, and I imagined myself shutting the door. With all that personal stuff hidden, I was free to continue the work with the attention it deserved.
“So where’d you get this done the first time?”
Drake rubbed his buzzed hair with his free hand. “On vacation. Me and my wife went down to Key West, and we saw this shop. Looked nice, was clean and everything. I’d always wanted one but thought she’d be pissed.” He laughed as I fixed the line of the tiger’s paw. “She proved me wrong. Said I deserved it for coming back from Afghanistan alive. Practically dragged me in there. I was worried when the color started swirling down my shower drain, though.”
I wiped the arm down again. “Nothing to worry about. I’ll have you fixed up in another ten minutes, tops.”
Drake glanced out the open studio door over my shoulder. “That your girlfriend?”
It was a testament to Karl’s teaching that I didn’t jump and drag a jagged ink line over Drake’s arm. My hand was rock-steady as I answered. “Nope.”
“She’s hot.”
I rubbed the tiger down again, giving it a critical eye before dipping my machine. “Yeah, she is.”
Drake crossed his legs at the ankles. “She seems kind of interested. Keeps looking in here.”
A wave of jealousy crashed through me. I looked toward my ink cups while responding. “Thought you said you were married.”
“I am. She’s looking at you.”
Hardly daring to hope, I glanced over my shoulder. Hailey quickly looked back down at her sketchbook, but not soon enough to prevent me from seeing that Drake was right. She’d been staring at me.
I felt a half-smile cross my face as I turned back to my task. “So she is.”
A few minutes later, Drake’s tiger was done. I applied a thin layer of ointment, taping a temporary covering of cling film over it. “Keep it clean, no pools or baths till it heals, and put ointment on it twice a day.”
Drake slid from the chair, admiring it. “It looks even better than it did before. I can’t thank you enough, man. How much do I owe you?”
I glanced up from cleaning my station. “No charge, man. Thanks for your service. Just do me a favor and tell your friends to come here, yeah?”
Drake grinned. “You got it. Since this turned out so well, I’m definitely wanting more. I’ll be back myself.” He pulled his wallet free and pulled a bill out, passing it over to me. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” I slid the tip into my pocket without looking at it. “Let me walk you out.”
I followed Drake from the studio, laughing as the customer cracked a joke. I glanced over at Hailey as we came nearer.
“Listen, man, thanks. This is great.” Drake shook my hand.
“No problem. See you soon.” I leaned against the counter as Drake left, the electronic beep echoing behind him.
I was intensely aware of her even though I wasn’t looking at her, wasn’t even that close to her. There had to be at least three feet between us. But I could swear I felt the heat from her body, smelled the clean, beautiful scent of her. I shook my head inwardly. Man, I had to do something about this. Nothing could happen between us, despite how good that kiss had felt.
Damn, I wanted to kiss her again so bad it hurt.
“Can I show you what I did?” Her voice broke my reverie.
“Sure.” Rounding the corner of the desk, I leaned down next to her. Close. Too close. What I’d imagined feeling a moment ago was too real now. I breathed in deep, drawing her into my lungs before looking at the drawing.
“Wow. This is nice.”
I tilted the sketch slightly to get a better look. It was a cat, almost smiling, but incredibly realistic. A beautiful scrollwork banner unfurled below his paws, and the lettering inside, though traditional, had a flair that was incredibly appealing. “Amigo,” it read.
Hailey’s feet shifted under the desk, a nervous tapping sound. “I hope it’s okay. A lady came in yesterday and she told me about her cat, showed me the picture. Roger did the tattoo. I’m not sure what that one looked like, but I thought it’d be a cool thing to try.”
I smiled. The offer might have been impromptu, some would say completely idiotic, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it while looking at this piece. She had talent, and more than that, she had empathy. The combination would take her incredibly far in this business, if she could get the right training.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go clean up my station, and we can talk about hygiene.”
Hailey shook her head, a confused expression on her face. “But what about the sketch? Was it okay?”
Without thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed her hand. “It’ll do for now. But there’s a lot more to learn than drawing, so let’s get to it.”
As I led her into the studio, I realized something odd. My heart felt light. The lightest it’d been in a very long time.
Chapter Ten
Hailey
I staggered into my room at midnight, dropping my bag by the foot of my bed and falling face-first into the comforter.
“Hey, you okay?” Jackie’s voice seemed to come from a million miles away.
“Fine,” I tried to say, but the wad of comforter against my mouth made it come out more like “Fffmfmf.” I lifted my head slightly. “I’m fine. Just exhausted.”
Jackie laughed. “This new job working you hard? I thought your shift ended at nine.”
I rolled to my side, facing my roommate in the dimness of the lamplit room. “It did. But I spent some time there afterward.”
“With that yummy new boss, I hope?” Jackie tossed the bag of chips she’d been munching from onto her desk.
“Yeah, but not like that.” Despite the butterflies that had been banging against my ribs for the rest of the night, it had been completely innocent. I smiled. “He asked me to be his apprentice.”
“Apprentice? Like, to learn tattooing?” Jackie’s gleeful squeal was much too loud this late at night. I shushed her.
“Yeah.”
“Holy crap, that’s exciting! You can practice on me, if you want.” Jackie dumped her laptop on her pillow and shoved up the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’ve got a spot right here for you to doodle on. Seriously.”
“It’s going to take a while before I’m able to do any tattooing on anybody, Jackie.” I sat up, s
winging my legs off the edge of the bed. “Like, a year or more, probably.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Jackie snorted. “You’re such a great artist, I’m sure you’ll be doing it much faster than that.”
I pulled the elastic from my hair, sighing with relief as the tension on my scalp eased. “There’s a lot more to it than drawing, you know. Tonight I started learning about hygiene and stuff. Blood-borne pathogens, cleaning, that kind of thing.”
“That’s kind of uninteresting and disappointing,” Jackie said, wrinkling her nose. “Well, anyway, I’m here whenever you want to practice.”
“Thanks.” I shoved to my feet and padded to the bathroom, cracking my jaw on a yawn. “I’m going to grab a shower and head to bed. I’ve got an eight o’clock class in the morning.”
Jackie grabbed her bag. “I’m heading over to Anthony’s. See you tomorrow, okay?”
I waved. “’Night.”
As the water squeaked on and I removed my clothes, I thought back to Neill’s completely bemusing offer. It was so exciting, but my nerves were kind of thin with tension at the same time.
I stepped into the white porcelain tub, drawing the flower-speckled plastic curtain shut behind me. Tilting my head up to the spray, I dragged in a steamy breath.
Water pinged off my face, trickling downward, the wet heat lining my lips. With a finger, I rubbed them.
I had kissed him. And he’d kissed me back.
Water ran down my shoulders, over my breasts, and lower, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop pretending that it was Neill’s hands, Neill’s mouth, Neill everywhere.
“Shut up,” I hissed to myself. My voice echoed off the small blue tiles of the shower, and I winced. My suitemates didn’t deserve to be woken up late because I was preoccupied. .Finishing my shower quickly, I toweled off and slipped into my pajamas.
