by K. M. Galvin
He stops in the middle of the hallway, hand on his heart, and collapses against the wall dramatically. “Have you ever heard such poetry? Stop trying to woo me with your words, Shakespeare!”
Natalie shoves me into the room giggling at his antics. “I’ll give him one thing. He is amusing.”
I throw my bag of clothes on the bed and start unpacking Makyla’s.
“Actually, you get to be Bellamy for this one,” Natalie informs me as she plops down on her bed and unpacks her laptop.
“Really?” I barely hide the excitement from my voice.
“Yeah, I figure it’ll be easier to give your speech as yourself rather than in costume.”
“Is this really a speech?” I sit down, pulling my knees to my chest.
She shrugs. “Not in the true sense of the word, but it’s not a signing. It’s more of a panel, I guess you would call it. For paranormal/fantasy romance writers and bloggers. You’ll be up there with a few others and speak about the how’s and why’s, then there will be questions from the audience.”
“So I don’t have to rehearse anything?” I relax. This isn’t so bad.
“Bellamy Granger Strong, do you honestly think I would tell you to prepare a speech less than twenty-four hours before you are set to give it?” She looks at me outraged.
What’s the right answer here? The correct one or the safe one… ”No?” I decide to go with safe.
“Correct answer, terrible delivery. Damn right I wouldn’t.”
“I hate when you full name me.”
“You have the most pretentious name on the planet, I feel richer every time I say it,” she snickers.
“I can’t help that my parents are total stereotypical suburbanites.” I grimace.
“How are Bradford and Jennifer?”
I shrug noncommittally.
“Bell…” she drawls and comes over to sit next to me. “When is the last time you talked to them?”
“I texted mom a week ago,” I shrug again, “short, simple I’m alive text.”
“You shrug anymore and it’s a dance move.” She ruffles my hair. “Call you parents, Bellamy. They love you, even with Wednesday Adams’ disposition.”
I fall against the bed, already dreading the call. “Fine!”
“Ok, can we please go eat now? We have prep later and I need to call the event manager early in the morning so bed time is soon.”
I roll off the bed and grab her hand, yanking her with me as I go. “Come on, I want something fried.”
“In the land of fruits and nuts?” Natalie feigns shock.
“Fine, I want something organically fried in fair trade oil. But it will be greasy and crunchy and comforting.”
Natalie’s stomach growls loudly. “Sounds yummy. Should we get the boys?”
“I’d like to actually get the chance to eat what’s on my plate instead of Caleb ‘taste-testing,’ as he calls it, all my food.” I slant her a look. She knows what I’m talking about. It’s what she references every time she wants to point out how much he likes me.
“It’s cute. He’s flirting.” She laughs.
“His flirting makes me hangry. And nobody likes me when I’m hangry,” I say in a low, growly voice.
“Ok, food Hulk. Let’s feed the beast.”
THE NEXT DAY FINDS ME sitting at the table with some of the most popular and world-renowned Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, and Science Fiction Romance writers in the business.
And somehow Natalie is expecting me to actually speak.
Some of these women and men I grew up on, one I’m recently obsessed with and the one particular lady, who I am currently staring open-mouthed at, is my favorite writer of all time. I belong to her fan club online and it’s in those message boards, predicting plot twists that my imagination fully developed.
As if she can feel my unblinkingly, undoubtedly creepy stare on her face she turns towards me and smiles. I nearly get up and leave, but the host steps up to the microphone and begins.
The first questions come quickly, a steady stream of eager faces all lined up to ask their heroes questions. I feel like I should be down there, not up here feeling a fraud. I squint through the bright lights to see if Natalie, Logan, or Caleb is among them, but no luck.
I’m quiet for maybe ten minutes before I hear my name called and I blink at the young girl in the middle of the aisle, waiting for me to acknowledge her.
“Uh, hi!” I squeak and hear a faint snort in the audience. I’m not positive, but I believe its Caleb. Knowing he’s out there silently giving me shit makes me sit a little higher in my chair. I’ll show him.
Clearing my throat, I recall the practice Natalie helped me with last night. “Hi, did you have a question for me?”
“Hi, my name is Karli and I’m a huge fan. I’m sure you’ve gotten this a lot—“ she hesitates, and I watch realization dawn that she’s in a room filled with hundreds of people currently paying close attention to her.
“Hey, Karli?” I wait until she looks back at me and I smile. “Ask me anything. It’s just us here, having a conversation, ok?”
She takes a deep breath. “What made you start writing? Was it because you always wanted to be an author?”
I shift slightly in my seat and consider. Usually when I get this question, I give some generic answer, but when you’re face to face with someone it’s a lot harder to lie or water down the truth.
“I was a very lonely kid. My parents wanted me to be something I’m not, the kids at school wanted the same thing, but I seemed to be afraid of everything except books. I read voraciously and created my own friends. Makyla and Max’s first adventures were written during the lunch period my freshmen year of high school.” I smile, thinking back.
“It wasn’t until I got to college that I shared my writing with anyone. My roommate and best friend, Natalie. She’s the one always taking sneaky photos of me and posting them online.” I grin as Karli laughs. “She’s really the person who started it all; she motivated me. Made me see what I could be.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t fit in either,” Karli admits.
“Karli, look around. Everyone here is here for the same reason. They love the same things you do. And who wants to fit in anyway? Be creative, be weird, be whatever as long as it’s you. Ok?”
She miles hugely at me. “Thank you! I will try.”
Polite applause sounds out as she makes her way back to her seat and I lean back in my chair, suddenly exhausted. I really need to take my own advice.
The panel draws to a close and I can’t believe it’s already over. I feel shaky and high on adrenaline. I say goodbye to my fellow authors, sign a few books, and then dash through the backdoors blocked off from the audience.
I find that my legs can’t make it any further then a few steps and I sink to the ground cross legged, my head in my hands as I try to breathe through the excess energy. I can’t believe I did that. I did it calmly, I answered questions coherently, and I genuinely enjoyed myself. God, that little girl reminds me of myself when I was that age.
A startled laugh escapes me and I almost start to cry. I’m happy. I’m getting the hang of this.
My phone vibrates and I blow out a breath, thankful to focus on something else.
We’re down at the bar waiting for you, Rock Star. Let’s go!
I stare at Caleb’s text and should feel trepidation because I know what they are waiting for, but I want it. I want to remember what I just did by myself. No one holding my hand, no break down…
I get up from my spot on the ground and make my way to my friends.
Time to get inked.
Caleb refuses to tell me where we’re all going and with a car full of tipsy people, I hope it’s somewhere close. I’m squished between the door and Caleb as the happy couple serenades us with The Little Mermaid’s “Kiss the Girl.” I’m barely preventing myself from pulling the handle and rolling into traffic.
“I’m very proud of you,” Caleb whispers.
I turn towards him and nuzzle between his chin and collar bone. “I thought you weren’t watching.”
“I stayed for the first question. I wanted to make sure you had it under control and of course you did.” His voice vibrates against my ear, doing funny stuff to my chest.
“I didn’t freak out at all. Except for adrenaline after, but I think that’s normal. Like a football player or a UFC fighter,” I murmur, shifting closer to the heat that’s pouring off him.
His chest shakes slightly. “That’s my girl, the UFC fighter.”
I tweak his nipple, smirking when he yelps. “Are we close? I can’t take Sonny and Cher any longer.”
Caleb checks the navigation on his phone and nods. “Do you know what you want? My initials on your ass?”
I snort. “We haven’t even had sex yet and you want to own my ass?”
Caleb’s arms tighten around me and he brings his mouth close to my ear, “There are a lot of parts of your body I want to make mine. Your ass. Your tits. Your fucking bratty little mouth. I have my own bucket list, Bellamy.”
“How about you start with a date, Fabio, and then we’ll see what I can do about knocking a few of those off your list?” I toss back, my imagination running wild at what he might have planned.
Moments later we pull up in front of a small row of storefronts in downtown Portland to a tattoo parlor situated next to a bar, as if to capitalize on bad decisions.
We all climb out and I hear Natalie chuckle. “All right, Bell, let me get a picture of you out front. Caleb, you too. This is too great.”
“What is?” I ask, lining up next to Caleb, my arm going around his waist as he pulls me in tight.
She points upwards and I step forward and look up to the awning, groaning at the sign. Caleb snickers beside me and I slap his stomach with the back of my hand in retaliation. “Did you search all our stops for this place or is it kismet?”
“One hundred percent did I search every tattoo parlor at every city we’re stopping at for something Beauty and the Beast themed. Beast Tattoos in Portland was the best one I could find. I wish I could say it was fate, but really it was all me. So make sure when you write about it in your diary you mention my name a lot with little hearts around it.”
“Smile!” Natalie calls out and we cheese it up for her. “Bellamy, what are you getting?” she asks walking towards me, her eyes still glued to her screen. Thank god Logan was steering her or she’d walk right into the door.
“It’s a secret,” I reply archly.
“Is it a secret because it’s some Chinese letter you looked up on Internet that means strength but really it means sweet and sour chicken?” Logan jokes.
Flashing him the finger, I grunt, “No, dickweed. It’s a secret because I don’t want anyone to know until it’s done. I want this to be uninfluenced, a pure decision. All me.”
“I get to be in there though,” Caleb states, as if obvious.
I put a hand on his chest to halt him for walking with me to the desk. “Er, no.”
“Er, yes,” he counters, eyebrows lowering over those golden eyes.
We enter into an epic stare off showdown, glaring at one another. His jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth, but it only serves to highlight his impeccable jawline and sharp cheekbones. Gah, does anyone know how hard it is to stay pissed at someone so hot? It’s damn distracting.
His lips purse as he exhales through his nose and I finally cave, rolling my eyes. “Fine, you stubborn ass.”
“I am your adventure partner and the only other member of Team Leave Us Alone. Of course I’m going. Plus we’ll soon be having sexy times and sharing feelings. I want this memory with you.”
“Somewhere in there is something romantic,” I mutter, signing in and hitting the buzzer for service.
“Just rewrite it tonight in your diary. But make me sound sexy and hot. Like melt your panties with my words hot.” He smiles to himself as if that superpower would be awesome.
“You know I don’t actually have a diary, right?” I lift a brow, cupping my chin in my hand as lean on the counter.
“Bellamy, I can’t believe you’re not nervous at all,” Logan comments as he settles in next to Natalie. Both of them have pulled out their iPads to work presumably.
“Well, she wasn’t until you brought it up,” Caleb scolds, tugging me over to a chair to sit next to him.
“I’m fine. I’ve wanted to do this forever,” I admit.
“Well, I’m shocked. And nervous for you,” Natalie says. “Oh man! Bell, that pic has gotten re-tweeted over three hundred times already! And everyone is commenting about what it could be your getting on Facebook. You have to let me take a pic after it’s done.”
I shrug, not caring. What I’m getting is for my fans anyway. I planned on sharing it with them.
“Hi, how can I help you?” A petite woman asks, coming out from the back room. She’s has a beautiful tattoo of roses on vines winding around her right arm and bright turquoise hair. Otherwise, she’s in a simple white V-neck and jeans. Not sure what I was expecting… ok, that’s a lie. I was expecting someone with forty piercings and not an inch of untouched skin.
But she doesn’t looks intimidating. I relax instantly and stand to greet her. “Hi, I believe my friend here,” gesturing to Caleb, “made an appointment for me? Bellamy Strong?”
Her grin widens instantly. “Of course! Bell! How could we not let Bell get tattooed by the Beast?”
“Are you the Beast?”
“I am,” she laughs. “A nickname because I’m kickass with ink, but you can call me Ali. Do you want to follow me to my backroom? We can discuss what you want and get started.”
“I just want something simple and small,” I tell her as Caleb and I follow her to the back.
“That’s what your friend said,” she assures me, and I glance behind me at Caleb.
He smiles and shrugs. “It’s not like you were going to get a full sleeve. I’m Caleb by the way.”
Ali nods at him, impervious to his dimpled charm, and lets us in. The walls are painted a soothing lavender and covered in photographs of what I assume to be her work. There’s a, well it looks like a masseuse table in the middle, two leather chairs in the corner, and a small rolling stool. Her tools are on a cart, lined up and ready to go.
Everything looked sterile and very professional, further relaxing me.
“Do you know where you want it?” Ali asks, moving to the sink to wash her hands.
“Along my collarbone.” I pull my loose knit sweater top down to point to the area right below the bone. “A small safety pin. Maybe two inches long? More cartoon then realistic. Fantasy looking.”
Ali smiles softly. “I see it. I’ll do a quick drawing before putting it on transfer paper and then get your approval. I love that idea. Any particular reason?”
“I heard people were pinning safety pins on their clothing as a sign to others that they were a safe place if someone needed help. Since I’ve been on this book tour, I’ve come to realize that people have found a safe place with my books and characters, as much as I have. I think more than anything I’ve accomplished, that’s the most important and I never want to forget or lose that.”
Caleb grabs my hand and squeezes it. I know he approves.
“How’s this?” She holds up her sketchpad and tears fill my eyes.
“It’s like you plucked it right out of my head. Way to go, Beast!” I laugh.
“All right! I just need you to take off your shirt and hop up on the table. Let’s get started.” She starts preparing her tools, pulling on gloves, and gives me her back for privacy, though why that matters since she’ll be staring at me in my bra… wait…
“Bra too?” I squeak, thinking of the straps.
“Just move the straps out of the way if you’re uncomfortable,” she suggests, and I nearly sag in relief.
I look over at Caleb, but he’s staring at his phone having already made himself comfortable in one of the available chairs.
>
Biting my lip, I decide to do it band-aide style. Quick and painless.
I whip my shirt off and slide my bra straps down before lying down on the table on my back. My head is right by Caleb’s knee so I turn towards him and try to ignore the needle getting ready to dig into my skin on the other side.
“Distract me,” I whisper, drawing his attention away from his phone.
He smiles. “Nervous? Not my Bell.”
“It’s going to hurt,” I whimper pathetically.
“Everything that’s worth something hurts a little.” He shifts to the edge of his seat and grips my hand.
Ali transfers the design onto my skin and I tighten my grip on his. “Bellamy, I need you to look at the placement for just a moment.”
I look into the mirror she’s holding up and give her a thumbs up.
“Lose your voice?” She teases. “It’s ok. Shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes, tops. You’re going to hear a buzzing sound. I promise it’s more ominous sounding than it feels. Though it feels like a pinch or a bee sting, but you’ll get used to it. Some people even like it.”
I scoff at that, though my mind runs wild at the thought, but then I remember the book Natalie read a couple months ago about this couple that got off on a little pain. It sounded hot when she told me about it, but I never thought about it in terms of myself.
I look to my distraction and find his eyes ready to meet mine.
The tattoo gun turns on and I tense, waiting for the pain.
Caleb leans down and kisses my forehead, breathing me in, and I’m surrounded by his heat and scent: wood smoke, pine, and a hint of cinnamon.
“Here we go, Bellamy. Try to relax for me,” Ali says, and I feel her fingers on my skin.
I blow out a long breath, mentally releasing the tension one limb at a time as the needle begins to mark my skin.
And holy shit, it hurts.
Of course it does. I mean I don’t even have my ears pierced for God’s sake. I’m a total needle-phobe.
But then something weird happens and again I think of Ali’s words and that damn couple from Natalie’s book. You know how your body reacts to things in unexpected ways? Like when it’s cold out and your nipples decide it’s a great time to stand to attention? Or when you sneeze? Or… I don’t know, you get a tattoo?
