Tattooed On My Soul

by Lisa DeBells

  I raked his body with my eyes. There was only one word to describe him: arresting. His lean, casual and confident, arms that were built to protect were crossed in front of his chest. He’d lost the cap somewhere; his hair was pulled back into a hair-tie, giving way to a face even more breathtaking with no hair tousled around his face. I had to remind myself to breathe and pry some words out of my head.

  “You gave that bag a beating. How many have you retired?” My attempt at light humor. His smoldering green eyes were my kryptonite. He had shut down, my stomach dropped to my knees as his face tensed, there was no humor in his eyes, just a direct look. Oh Mitch, what happened to you honey? He scrubbed his hands over his face and blew out a heavy breath before answering.

  “I do it most days. Depending on my level of stress determines how intense I get.” This was more information than I expected. I willed my face to stay neutral, not happening, so I turned for the coffee’s and offered him one.

  “Was today one of the more . . . intense days?” I blew the frothy cream on the top keeping my eyes on the mug.

  He stepped closer to me and my breathing hitched, as if I had a lozenge stuck in my throat. He gazed down; he smelt so manly and well worked, still just as good as ever.

  He closed in, trapping me between the bench and his arms, the granite wedged in my back, his hands resting on its square set edge. I could handle this man. I had no choice but to. He had to know I wasn’t his typical walking, talking cookie-cutter Barbie girl. I thrust my chin out slightly and wiggled my head so that my hair would move away from my face.

  “Today, the last week, all . . . intense, but not in the way you think.” My heart leapt in my chest and I struggled to contain myself. He leant in; his body heat poured off his skin, it sunk into my skin and clouded my skittish rational. He was so smooth and unblemished like an angel, like Gabriel, because he was the devil in disguise.

  “I need coffee.” I say as a way of not making a big deal of his confession.

  I took a tentative sip, my lips were swollen from Mitchell’s delicious assault. “You make a good coffee.”

  “Not one of my better talents, Eden.” I liked my name on his lips, the way they rounded on the E and pouted. I wanted to suck that lip into my mouth and just drown out any thoughts of leaving.

  “Hmmm. Well, you’re quite talented with a punching bag.” The darkness returned to his eyes and his lips formed a firm line. I wished I hadn’t mentioned it. It was just that he was like poetry in motion to watch while he ragged on that bag. Obviously this was some sort of outlet for him, had I had touched a nerve.

  “Come and sit.” He walked in the direction of the lounges, so I followed like a little puppy, and plonked myself down on his lounge, curling my bare legs under me, careful not to spill my coffee. Mitchell didn’t sit though; he left his coffee on the table. “I’m making you breakfast. So you don’t think I’m a bad host.” He turned and winked at me playfully while my belly stuttered to life and groaned hungrily on cue.

  I didn’t want him to think I was going to hang around all day. Last night was more than I could have imagined, and I wasn’t about to outstay my welcome.

  “I’ll get going soon, thanks for the coffee but . . . I should go.” Ignoring my last statement, Mitchell walked around his kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards, placing items on the bench, then piling his arms full of items from the fridge. I’m an idiot, I didn’t even want to leave. I just didn’t want Mitchell to feel like I was going to hang on like one of his leeches.

  “You are not going anywhere. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” He had his glorious back to me. I loved the outline of his shoulders and how they tapered down to his narrow waist. This man was a triple threat: brains, beauty and buns. He should come with a warning label stating that one night will have you wanting one thousand more, and this would never be enough.

  “I've been told to stay away from men with tattoos and panty-dropping dimples. Can you even cook?” I sipped at my coffee lazily. What would spending the day here entail? A lazy bath, watching the college football . . . more of his sexy as fuck body? It was a hard life.

  He smirked dangerously at me, thus displaying the very dimples that didn’t but should come with a warning label. Maybe I would suggest he get it tattooed on his body. A loud whizzing, coming from a blender, absorbed all the silence and echoed in this big room, Mitchell was randomly dropping ingredients, that were strewn across the island bench top, into the top of the blender.

  With a satisfied grin he poured two tall glasses full of this shake he’d made. Maybe it was for stamina, He was a demanding lover, and a protein smoothie would have me energized to keep up. I had never been so happy to be a gym girl. He walked over and handed me the concoction.

  I took a sip from the straw. The cold liquid was a contrast to the hot coffee. There was a tasty party taking place in my mouth, that I sucked one third of it down without stopping. I nodded my head at Mitchell who had slammed his down and was on his second glass. “This. Is. So. Good.” I watch him in the kitchen place items here and there in between drinking his breakfast.

  “Breakfast of champions, baby. It’s full of goodness: kale, coconut water, pineapple, mango, banana, and about twenty dates.”

  “I could live on this.”

  “I do, everyday. Well, not just this.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in the boyish mannerism that I was growing to adore. “Now, about you leaving.” He had my full attention and I followed him with my eyes as he approached me from the kitchen.

  “Yep, be outta your hair soon, I’m sure you have laundry and stuff to do.”

  “NOT gonna happen.” He sat next to me, arm thrown over the back of the lounge, and one leg bent and tucked under the other.

  “What? The laundry?” I was confused. “Isn’t Sunday laundry day for everyone?”

  “You’re not going anywhere, Eden.” He twirled a chunk of my hair around his finger.

  “Well, that’s not up to you, and I might have laundry to do.”

  “Do you have laundry?” He pursed his lips at my petulant inquiry.

  “Are you saying that you don’t want me to leave?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I gulped down the rest of my yummy green drink. I needed some clarity; maybe I would find it in all of these healthy ingredients.

  As if the gods had heard me, there was a loud bang from somewhere in the building. Mitchell’s eyes shifted to the foyer. OMG, was someone here? Shit, shit, shit! Did I have time to run upstairs? I was near naked and he had a house guest. I looked to Mitchell, horrified. He surprised me by grabbing my hand, holding me still.

  A very handsome and well-dressed man walked around the corner like he owned the joint.

  “Hey motherfucker, get your lazy ass down—” He cupped his mouth with his hands forming a microphone that he pointed towards the stairs.

  “Hey douche, watch your mouth. There’s a lady in the room.” Mitchell interrupted. I watched the shock enter his friend’s eyes and his lips formed an O shape as he looked from me to Mitchell with a hundred questions cascading over classic features.

  “Shit, sorry man.” He sauntered further into the great room. “I’m Chase Walker, Mitchell’s bestie and partner in crime.” He flashed me a wide smile that lit up his warm blue eyes.

  “Eden, pleased to met you.” His confident stride ate up the distance and he took my free hand setting a chaste kiss to it.

  “I didn’t get a chance to introduce you two last night.” Mitchell directed his comment to me then jumped up disengaging Chases’ lips from me. Their easy fist bump and casual greeting established an effortless friendship. I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my shirt—Mitchell’s shirt, and at meeting someone that was privy to Mitchell’s private life. The clothing felt revealing in a way that said I’d spent the night. How could I possibly extricate myself now?

  “I’m sure I would have remembered you if he had.” Chase glared
at Mitchell and they seemed to share a look. “Someone as gorgeous as you.”

  “Careful, Chase.” Came a clipped warning.

  “What, man? She is.” He bumped a shoulder to him in a couldn’t-care-less-way and sauntered over to the coffee machine sparking it up.

  I was mortified. Could I just shrivel up and disappear? Like, now? I shielded my head as if the sun was too bright, only for it to be pulled away by strong hands. Mitchell’s lips thinned out as he reached for my hand and ran a re-assuring thumb back and forth, giving me just the right amount of equilibrium to deal.

  “Make yourself at home, Chay, we were just discussing our plans for the day.” Chase immediately choked on the froth he was spooning into his mouth. Once he’s composed he tells Mitchell that he won’t stay long, relief floods me.

  “I just needed that paperwork I left for you to sign. Gotta take them to the lawyers first thing Monday.” He walks and sits at one of the sleek black chairs at the island bench and turns to face the lounges. “So Eden, what did you think of our club? Was it not the total shit?” Well this was a shift of topic that I could work with. Mitchell walked out of the room, I’m guessing for the document Chase wanted. I composed myself after my mental drool-fest over Mitchell’s body was under control.

  “It’s amazing, young and hip, sexy and seductive, with a kick-ass deejay. What’s not to love?” I tell him honestly. "Congratulation on your success."

  “This is true, thank you.” A delighted smile sparked his features and he sat forward in the chair, stared at me like he could see dribble on my chin. I became flustered, and clung to my coffee mug that still had some dregs in it. “So, you have plans for today?” he questioned. “With Mitch. Outside the bedroom.” His voice softened. He sipped at the steaming mug.

  “Maybe. Don’t act so surprised. And what kind of a question is that, anyway?” I yank my head back slightly.

  “Oh, I'm not surprised. Frankly, I’m shocked. Mitch doesn’t, has never made plans with a woman unless they involve more parallel activities, if you know what I mean.” He winked at me annoyingly. I wished Mitchell would hurry up.

  “Well, what a revelation,” I said sarcastically. Tell me something I don't know. This guy was beginning to offend me.

  “Look, I don’t mean to piss you off; it’s just that, well, I’ve never seen a woman here, in daylight, after a night of, I’m assuming . . .” Fuck me, my cheeks were heating up. Did he really need to put it out there?

  I raised my palm up to him. I didn’t need the details. “Please, no need for specifics. In other words, I’m the latest in a long line of conquests that he has decided to play with.”

  “You’re the girl from the tattoo shop, right? The drunk one?” Well, my day had gone from great to sucking ass very quickly. I would forever regret that one move. Then again, I’d never have met Mitchell, man of my wet dreams.

  “Shit.” I whispered at the ceiling, hoping for an alien ship to suck me up into its beam of light.

  “This isn’t going very well, is it?” I expected to see a smug look on Chase’s face. I was stupefied when I saw a friendly, kinda shy smile. “I will put it this way. You’re here, when no other woman has ever been, he’s talking about making plans . . . this is new. Clearly.” He waved his hand, signaling to my body. “You’re different from the rest. Mitch has been acting weird of late.”

  “Weird… .” This was a surprising tidbit.

  “He’s my best friend. Believe me when I say I love him like a brother, but his baggage more than fills this apartment. Shit, it wouldn’t fill the block . . . Just watch out for the blow-back, Eden, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. That's if you hang around.” He stood to his full six-foot-plus height.

  “I don’t need a warning from you, Chase, but thanks.” This was a lot to take in. Chase walked off, I'm guessing to wherever Mitch was leaving me to stew on all of this new information.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mitchell

  Why is my heart thumping like the paws of a tiger running through the sandy savannah? I’d had so many women in my time, beautiful women. Not one could hold a flame to Eden; she was like a fictitious character that I had designed in my mind. The beauty of her soul had leapt off the page and became tangible to me now. Mine.

  Her body was as sexy as fuck, long lithe firm legs; all the better to wrap around me. Bright blue eyes as deep as the ocean; all the better to hypnotize me with. A heart and soul made of the clearest cut diamond; all the better to love me with. I’d thought I was the big bad wolf, but it seemed Eden had all my vices combined into one dynamite package and now I was the prey, my dark heart infected by her pure light.

  Deep in my soul. Small cracks crinkled around its edge, disintegrating forever, only to be filled back up by her light. Yes, she’d infected me in the best way.

  She was special, and that was why I couldn’t let her go. She was different in every way from anyone before her, Jessica for one. I couldn’t even pinpoint her face since Eden. Fuck, I wanted this. I warred within myself, asking the question: Was this what I really wanted? Because this chick was not to be fucked over, by anyone. Most of all by me. Fuck it all to hell, because I had the power to do it, too. I would ruin this. I knew I would.

  So I was going to give her an out. This would undoubtedly be the most unselfish act of my life. I was about to put someone before my own selfish needs and let her go.

  Could I though, if she walked away? Fucking doubt it. I wanted to prove myself to her. Every day. I was going to be her man, whether Eden wanted it or not. I would give up everything just to try and be great enough, the man she deserved. The man I wanted to be.

  For Eden. Mine.

  I was now sifting over the paperwork on my desk. I was grateful that Chase took care of all the documents and legal shit we required in our businesses. All the tens of thousands his parents had spent on college were well spent. He was a smart guy.

  Bingo! Found it. I was just about to leave my office when in strode a smug-looking Chase. His snigger was enough to tell me he was going to chew my ass out. He threw his height into my office chair, leaned back and hefted his shoes onto my desk like he owned it. I didn’t care, what’s mine was his, except my woman. Mine. Mine and mine only.

  “What?” This was inevitable.

  “Don’t what me. You sly prick. What’s she doing here? Women don’t stay the night, let alone the day. And you never . . . make plans. Spill it, asshole.” He folded his arms behind his head and waggled his eyebrows at me, a hoot of laughter jiggling him about on the chair.

  “First, she has a name, so use it. The rest . . .” I trailed off. How did I explain that letting her leave would be like chopping my right hand off, and that was my livelihood? I sat down across from him and rested my head in my hands for a moment. I scrubbed them down my face and looked up at my best friend. “I like her.” I said the words slowly. Making them solid and real.

  Chase’s mouth went lax, pensively mulling over my words, his expression non-judgmental, unlike his usual theatrical guise. He had a look for each emotion. When we were younger he could crack everyone up with his hilarious facials. There was nothing funny about him now.

  “OK, that’s great. I’m not sure how great it will be for her, though. Face facts, Mitch, you have no idea on relationships. You’ll hurt her when you’re done.”

  “When I’m done? I’m not a total fuck-wit, Chay.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Fuck me he was right. “Fuck it. I’m an asshole. I just . . . I’m not ready for her to leave. She’s different and I’m gonna fuck this up.” We both knew me well.

  “Look man, don’t be too hard on yourself. If you really want this, and I can tell you do, just take it one day at a time.” He emphasized his last words, nodding his head as if encouraging a four year old.

  This was why I loved Chase; always giving me the best advice in the simplest way for a very confusing situation. “Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. My thoughts and emotions were comin
g together with some unity. “I can do slow. But what if that’s not enough? For her?”

  “Easy, Mitch, day by day.” He looked unsure; there was something he wanted to say.

  “Just say it, man, I know that look.”

  “Maybe you should tell her . . . about your past.” Silence hung in the air.

  “Yeah right, so she can run. Nope. That’s need-to-know information. No one needs to know the fucked up life I’ve led.” Although I said these words, I couldn’t ignore this desire to share everything; my sketchy upbringing, run-ins with dangerous people that would kill to survive. Strictly off limits.

  With every piece I gave it would only be fair for a piece in return. All of me, Eden’s. The thought caused a massive ache in my chest. It was empty, I had never wanted it occupied, until Eden.

  Chase stood up, interrupting this new concept thus concluding therapy for today. “Give her an option; if she stays, great. If not, wasn’t your destiny. She’s out there, man. The other half of you. Be patient.”

  She’s sitting in my fucking house. Fuck it, she didn’t know what she was in for. I was what I was. I had lived on the edge of a knife blade for a considerable part of my life. If there were ever someone that could tame me, it would be the woman sitting in the other room, wearing my shirt, drinking from my mug and looking like heaven’s brightest angel without even trying. If it’s Eden, my Eden. I would give her the option to leave me. I struggled between being totally selfish and wanting to keep her with me, or letting her be free of the undoubtable fuck up that is me.

  Chase walked in the direction of the front door, but not before he said something that Eden couldn’t hear.

  “For all the shit, Mitch, you deserve this.”

  “She’s too good for me, Chase.”

  He waved and said goodbye to a very adorable-looking Eden. I had eyes only for her. The roof could cave in and I wouldn’t notice. Only her. Those eyes, big and trusting, and raking over every topless inch of me. I had to smile.Yeah baby, you want me? This man over here wants you too.

  I couldn’t shake the burden pressing down on me. The closer I got to Eden, the more my chest grinded. This was complicated, for me. What I want, I get. That’s how simple women had been to me, and maybe that wasn’t decent. My history hadn’t served me well in building a foundation for these new found feelings I had for Eden.