by Regina Cole
“Because that was the right call on the coloring. She loved it, she was happy with it, and she asked me to split the tip with you.”
Good God, even the tips of her ears blushed. She still didn’t move to take the money.
“Here.” I stepped closer, tucking the money in her front jeans pocket quickly, before I could change my mind about touching her. “Take it. You earned it.”
As I pulled my hand away, her own came forward and caught my fingers. Busted. As if by instinct, I laced our fingers together, pulling her forward to me. She came without hesitation, tilting her chin up to stare into my eyes. Her lips parted on a breath, their pink plumpness tempting me, calling me closer to her.
“Hailey,” I whispered as I descended toward her mouth, helpless against her pull. “We can’t—”
“Please.” Her response shattered my resolve, and I kissed her.
She was so soft, so pliant, against me. She melted in to me like decadent chocolate, sinful swirls that threatened to drown me in pleasure. I gathered her close, gripping her hips as she clung to my shoulders. Her lips parted, allowing me entry, and I kissed her with all the passion that had been brewing since I first set eyes on her. She tasted as delicious as I’d imagined, sweet, my Hailey, so sweet.
With every breath, every movement of our bodies against each other, I felt myself falling further. My hands moved up her waist to her ribs, brushing the sides of her breasts as she moaned. Her soft stomach pressed against my groin, and I felt my body hardening in response.
Her delicate fingers played over the muscles of my shoulder and upper back before delving into my hair, gripping and tugging lightly as our kisses deepened. Her tongue matched mine, her teeth nipped my lower lip, her mouth widened to accept my passionate foray. And when my fingers moved beneath her shirt, finally touching the softness I’d been thinking of for the last two hours, she moaned in my mouth.
The sound broke the spell, and I staggered backward.
“Neill?” She moved closer to me, her eyes wide and confused. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, her hair mussed. I didn’t remember touching it, but I must have. “What’s wrong?”
“I . . . I can’t . . .” I shoved a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry.”
Without another word to her, I shoved through the break room door and strode through the shop like my ass was on fire. I grabbed my helmet and left the shop, hoping like hell I could outrun the demons that were churning in my brain.
I couldn’t do this to myself anymore. But that really wasn’t what worried me the most. I couldn’t do this to her, and that scared me shitless. Why did I care about her so much? She was practically a stranger.
And I’d make sure she stayed that way.
My bike’s engine echoed against the walls of the alleyway, the angry growl reminding me of the turmoil shifting inside me.
Chapter Thirteen
Hailey
I stared at the empty space that Neill had occupied just a minute before. My blood was still racing through my veins, burning up my insides like a gasoline fire. My hand trembled as I brought it to my mouth.
What had I done wrong?
I couldn’t move, not at first. Shock had me in its grip, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling. The most wonderful, passionate kiss I’d ever experienced, and Neill had run away from it like he couldn’t get far fast enough. What had I done to make it go wrong?
I hadn’t moved from that spot, eyes still locked on the door, when Roger appeared.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said, tucking his trademark cigarette behind his ear. “What’s wrong?”
My knees gave out then, and I sank onto the nearest chair. “I—I don’t know.”
Roger’s easy smile slipped. Moving quickly, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and passed it to me. “Are you sick? Here, drink this.”
I took the bottle, glad I could feel the coldness of it. I’d been wondering if I could feel anything again, or if the beauty of that kiss had ruined me forever. But the chair was hard beneath me, the table was cool against my forearms, the bottle was misty and slick from condensation now that I clutched it in my hands. There. Feeling. Okay. “I’m not sick. I’m just . . . confused.”
Roger laughed at that, but it was a kind laugh. “Join the club. Show me a person who isn’t, and I’ll show you a liar.”
My lips stretched in a reluctant smile, and I looked down at the table. “Yeah, I know, but this is worse than usual.”
Roger spun the chair next to me, straddling it as he cracked the seal on his own bottle of water. “Is it the apprenticeship? Too much for you?”
My vehement head shake was instantaneous. “No way. That’s going great. I’m loving it, actually. It’s just . . .” His name refused to fall from my lips, no matter how hard I tried.
“It’s Neill, isn’t it?”
I stared at Roger, my mouth working silently. How had he known? Was it that obvious that I had a giant thing for him, even though I didn’t want to? God, I was really screwing everything up.
Roger leaned back, taking a long gulp of his water, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Dragging his forearm across his mouth, he set down the bottle and stared straight into my face. “Yeah, it’s got to be the boss man. And listen, kid. I like you. I’ve seen some of your drawings, and Neill’s right. You’ve got the talent to do this if you want it. But I’m going to give you a little bit of friendly advice.”
I nodded, rubbing my suddenly sweaty palms on my thighs.
Roger removed the cigarette from behind his ear, twirling it between his fingers, but never letting his eyes leave mine. “The apprenticeship and the relationship need to stay separate.”
My embarrassed laugh came barking out with no warning. “There isn’t a relationship between me and Neill. It was just a kiss.” Probably the last one, I thought sadly.
Tucking the cigarette between his lips, Roger stood. “It might not be there now, but it will be. But listen. He’s been hurt, bad. His last girlfriend . . . Well, it’s not my place to tell you. But none of that situation was good. And it’s going to take a lot of work for him to be able to deal with it. He’s just starting to now.” Roger leaned forward, bracing his palms on the table to get his earnest face even with mine. “But if you really want to tattoo for a living, then you’re going to have to be careful. Shit with Neill could get explosive. And I’d hate to see what you’re working toward getting obliterated with it.”
My stomach flipped. “Are you saying he would hurt me?”
Roger stood and removed the cigarette from his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Come on, kid. Not physically. He’s a great guy. Stay with me. If he breaks your heart, your ass will be running out of here in a heartbeat. And tattooing will always be something you two did together.” He scratched the back of his shaved head exasperatedly. “Look. I think you’ve got talent. I think the tattoo world would be better with you in it, if you can make it through your apprenticeship. But betting your heart on Neill might be a bad move right now. Take it slow. And ask him about Gretchen.”
“Gretchen?” I repeated in question.
But Roger didn’t answer. He turned and headed out the break room door, lighting his cigarette before he got out of my line of sight.
“What the hell,” I whispered as I turned the water bottle between my hands. “I’m in over my head.”
With a quick glance at the clock, I stood and tucked the water back in the fridge. I had to get to work, get myself together. No matter what had happened between me and Neill, no matter what would happen, whether Roger’s warnings were right or not, I had a job to do.
Frankie seemed glad to see me when I popped around the corner. “You can have this piece,” he said, slapping the counter in a friendly way. “Poor Tasha isn’t likely to be back. Hell of a stomach bug, apparently. Doc has her on bed rest. I’ve already had two morons trying to get each other’s name tattooed on their hands. They’d been dating a month.”
I shook my head as I squee
zed past Frankie, resigning myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to get any more instruction at the front desk. “That’s insane.”
“That’s the way people are. At least it’s easy to tell them it’s against shop policy. Hell, I won’t even tattoo a husband’s name on a wife. Too many divorces. I’ve covered up plenty of relationship mistakes. No need to perpetuate the problem.” Frankie grinned and disappeared around the corner to his studio.
I watched him go, glum at the reminder. He was right, I knew that. I’d been “in love” before. A couple of times. But I’d known after those relationships had ended how wrong I’d been about them. To have to look at those names over and over on my skin? What an incredibly bad reminder of past mistakes. I should have paid more attention to my parents’ marriage as it imploded right in front of me. That example was a big enough warning sign to stay away. And yet I couldn’t follow my own advice when it came to Neill.
Sighing, I put myself to work. Maybe if I buried my thoughts in filing, answering emails, and making appointments, I wouldn’t have to think about what had happened with Neill and what Roger had said.
The click of the mouse was loud in the otherwise quiet shop, only the faint strains of Frankie’s favorite country station playing softly, far in the distance. A few minutes of peace is good, I thought sadly. Maybe it’ll last.
A chirp from my cellphone quickly proved that thought wrong. Was it Neill? He’d been gone for a good fifteen minutes or so. Maybe he’d called to apologize. Maybe it was going to be okay.
A manic hope filled my chest as I dug through the bag and found my cellphone. The screen lit my hand in the dark of the bag. Turning it quickly, I moved to push the “answer” button, but the call dumped into voicemail.
And I was glad that it did, once I read who the call was from. The screen had flicked “Dr. Fields.”
“Crap.” I sighed, bringing the phone out and laying it on my desk. I propped my head in my hand and scrolled through the call list. I winced. Three missed calls, all from Dr. Fields. Gosh, he was probably pissed at me. He didn’t charge me anything for tutoring, and I hadn’t even bothered to let him know I wasn’t going to show up. I wasn’t usually that thoughtless, but I’d been really struggling these last few days to pull things together.
Another buzz lit the screen, declaring I had a voicemail. With a heavy sigh and a gut full of knots, I pressed the “listen” button.
“Hailey, it’s Dr. Fields. You didn’t come to our scheduled meeting this afternoon. Please return this call as soon as possible.” A pause, almost like he was collecting his thoughts. “I am concerned about you, Hailey. Please respond as soon as you can.”
Guilt slammed into me as I deleted the voicemail. My mom would have told me I was being immature, and she’d be right. I should probably go ahead and call him now, let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time. But hesitation crippled my fingers. He’d been so upset with me before . . .
The electronic beep of the front door startled me, and I dropped the phone into my bag as I looked up. A guy with almost more metal than face was smiling down at me.
“Hey,” he said with a smile, his tongue ring flashing as he spoke. “I want to get a piercing done, is that cool?”
I’d have to deal with the Dr. Fields situation later. Right now I had a job to do. “Sure. Let me get you started on some forms.”
Neill
I was glad for the wind on my face and the heavy thrum of the engine beneath me. It made it hard to think about what I’d just done. But I couldn’t outrun it for long; in fact, I should be back at work right now. This quick ride would have to be enough to clear my head.
The downtown area of Leesville was pretty busy today, lots of cars parallel-parked on the city streets, people moving down the sidewalks toward their lunch breaks or back to their offices. The sun beat down on the young trees that lined the sidewalks, part of a downtown revitalization project that had taken place a few years before. My bike rolled to a stop at the red light on Harrington Street, and as I waited for green, I looked down at my hands.
I could control myself around her. I had to. It was the only way this was ever going to work.
Finishing the circle around the block and nosing the bike back toward Sinful Skin, I let my brain wander back to what had happened between us.
I’d kissed her.
Again.
And there was no denying that both of us had more than liked it. I hadn’t wanted to stop. Neither had she.
But it’s impossible, my subconscious moaned. Gretchen . . .
I slammed the brakes on that thought as I slowed the bike for the turn down Sinful Skin’s private alley. Gretchen had nothing to do with me and Hailey. Nothing. Gretchen was a mistake, and more than that, Gretchen was the past. And maybe if I thought that often enough, I’d eventually start to believe it.
When I cut the bike’s engine, I felt a buzzing in my pocket signaling a text. Fortunately, my phone was more rugged than anticipated, and my morning pitching session with it hadn’t done more harm than a hairline crack in the screen. Sitting astride the bike, I unlocked the screen to read the message. It was from Karl.
Hey man, it read. Guest spot’s going great. Let me know if you have any problems. Proud of you. I mean that. K.
“Goddammit,” I said aloud, a defeated note in my voice. Karl was a better father to me than my own dad had ever been, and his good opinion meant a lot. “Don’t say that right now, because I sure as hell don’t deserve it.”
Swinging my leg over the bike, I wished I could chuck the phone at the brick wall of the shop. That would definitely finish it off, though it’d be a pain in the ass to get a new phone. As I removed my helmet and the gravel crunched under my boots, I decided something.
I needed to apologize to Hailey. She didn’t deserve to be yanked back and forth like my personal emotional yo-yo. None of this was her fault. She was young, she was vibrant and trusting, and I’d be damned if that got all fucked up because of me.
But before I could push through the door, Roger appeared, blowing a mouthful of smoke as he exited the shop.
“You smoking in my shop?” I asked, the anger at myself finding a convenient target. “What the hell, man?”
“I didn’t smoke it in the shop, I lit it in the shop,” Roger said, giving me a wink. “Don’t take your blue balls out on me.”
“Shit,” I said, dropping my helmet on the concrete beside the back door and then sinking down beside it. “Sorry.” I looped my arms on my bent knees, staring straight ahead.
Roger sat next to me, taking another big drag. “Don’t worry about it. I talked to the kid.”
“What? Why?”
“Because apparently, you kissed her stupid and then ran away like a crazy person. She was confused.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “I know. I . . . No excuse.” I watched the glowing end of Roger’s cigarette as he ashed it, the gray flakes floating down to the gravel below.
“Listen, I know this is your shop, but I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen shit like this before. It’s easy for an apprentice to fall in love with the artist they’re working so closely with. Hell, it happened to me once.” Roger stretched out his short legs, digging his heels into the gravel. “It’s your job to keep this relationship the way it should be.”
“I’m trying like hell, I really am.” I gripped my forearms tighter. “But I don’t know what to do. I can’t not feel anything for her. I’ve tried that, and I’m failing hard-core.”
With a final drag, Roger looked skyward. “You’ve just got to be careful. If you fuck this up, then this shop will lose, too. She’s got talent, and she’d bring something good here. And she’s a good kid. I’d hate to see her get hurt.” As Roger stabbed out his cigarette in the gravel, he continued, “I’d hate to see either of you get hurt.”
Something like dread curled around my neck, icy fingers threatening me. “You told her about what happened with me, didn’t you?”
&nbs
p; “Nope. None of my damn business. But I told her to be careful. She deserves that much.” Roger stood, adjusting his jeans. “I’ve got work to do this afternoon. See you inside.”
With Roger gone, I stared out across the small parking lot. It was almost like being in a tiny prison, surrounded on all sides by walls. Only the alley was there for an escape route, with the alternative being through the shop. And that was too hard. Seeing her right now was too hard.
I looked up at the sky, the afternoon sunlight warming my face. Clouds milled high, their cheerful movements careless of the turmoil that raged within me.
Roger was right.
I couldn’t screw this up.
Hailey had a future in tattooing. A bright one, if she could get the right mentor. And what if I wasn’t the right one? I’d never had an apprentice before. Karl had taught me well, and I could tattoo almost anything on any body, but what if I was a shit teacher? She could learn bad habits that would cost her in the long run. It would cost the shop and her. She was so young.
And so are you, my subconscious hissed. Look at you. Only twenty-four and fucked up six ways to Sunday. She doesn’t need your bullshit.
With my mind made up, I stood. No use prolonging it. I’d have to face her sooner or later.
When I pushed through the door, Frankie was escorting a customer into his studio, past the long glass cases of body jewelry. Roger was in his own space, throwing darts at an electronic board. As I moved toward the front of the shop, I steeled my spine, tightened my fists, and prepared to say what I needed to.
“Oh, hey, there you are,” Hailey said before I could open my mouth. She rose from her desk chair with a pile of printed-out sheets in her hand. “I was thinking maybe I could help on the social media marketing for the shop. Like the Facebook page, Twitter feed, that kind of thing? It looks like Tasha was handling that, but she didn’t get a chance to mention if I should take that over.”
I blinked, taken by surprise at her question. “Um, sure. That’s fine with me. I haven’t paid much attention to that stuff, but I can take it over if it’s too much.”
