by LS Anders
Not to sound gay or anything, but he wished the guy would turn around so he could admire that goatee some more. If ever there were manscaping works of art, it would be Tegan's immaculately kept goatee. After this modeling shit was done, he was seriously considering growing one and bulking up, too. He wanted to round out the lean musculature he already had.
He couldn't wait for his body to be his own again, with no one to tell him how to wear his hair, what his body should look like, or whether he could have facial hair. He should ask Tegan to help train him like back in high school and definitely teach him the secret behind that manscape masterpiece.
Oh, and he was definitely getting a tattoo!
Admiring what he could see of Tegan's, he could just make out the very bottom of the sharp black tribal tatts on Tegan's upper arms, peeking out from under the edge of his sleeves. He wondered how much of the guy was inked, but it just felt stupid to ask him if he could see his tattoos.
Tegan continued his perusal of the courtyard below, while Vehn looked away staring out at nothing in particular.
He should be beside himself with happiness now that he had gotten his wish and his friend was finally here, but the sting from Tegan's comment about girls had dredged up unfinished business he had with Regina, reminding him he needed to take some action toward ridding himself of her.
He had been warring with his conscious ever since his mom had called a few weeks prior. Her nonjudgmental “Oh, I see,” had unwittingly planted itself, turning into a kernel of guilt. The thing had taken root and sprouted, becoming a little angel on his shoulder that was making a fine argument with the little devil on the opposite side. Like his very own cartoon.
He had really tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong with the relationship he had with Regina. They were both grown adults, and she knew exactly what she was doing. But two wrongs didn't make a right, and he had been raised better than that and had too much respect for women to use her like he was, even though that was what she was doing to him.
In the end, the angel had won the debate hands down. He was going to have to be the one to end it with her.
“…must suck to get paid to stand around in your underwear,” Tegan had been saying.
“What?”
“I was asking you about your photography classes and busting your balls for getting paid bank to have your picture taken in your underwear,” Tegan repeated, turning around to face him.
Tegan’s pale blue eyes were studying Vehn's face. “You ok? What's going on in there? I can see your hamster running full speed ahead.”
Vehn ignored Tegan's inquiry and tried to front like nothing was wrong, but that fucker always had an uncanny way of reading him.
“Don't hate the player. Hate the game. What are you bitchin' about anyway? Look at you. You've got muscle groups I never knew existed. Women love big bulky dudes. You could totally be a fitness model, and you're totally working that whole bad boy, long haired, goatee, tatted-up look. Why don't you let me shoot you in your undies, and I'll put a good word in for you with some people I know.”
“Yeah, not gonna happen, bro, and I don't have a look. Thanks anyway.”
“Well, if you change your mind let—”
“I won't,” Tegan abruptly ended that conversation. “So, talk to me. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“You think I'm pretty, T? You're not really my type, but I'll take the compliment.”
“Spill. It.”
“Dog with a bone much?” Vehn arched a brow.
Taking a sip of his drink, he tried to buy himself some time before he spilled his guts about Regina. Releasing a long slow exhale, he leaned forward on his knees, allowing all his upper body weight to settle on his forearms. His eyes remained on the toes of his sneakers, as if the new position was going to help him talk.
He began with, “I got this girl issue...” Apparently, the change in position had worked. Vehn proceeded to tell Tegan everything from how they meet to where they were now.
“I've got to break it off with her, but I don't want to hurt her feelings either.”
“So, what's the issue? Did I miss something?” Tegan crossed over to the sofa and took a seat.
“Don't be a dick. I don't use women like that, Tegan. Plus, Mom knows, and that makes me feel even fucking worse,” Vehn barked.
His annoyance at his friend overriding his guilty conscience, he looked at Tegan full in the face for the first time since his story began.
“Let me get this straight, before you bite my head completely off. She's using you to get ahead and you're using her to get off?”
Vehn nodded.
“So, fuck her.”
“That's what I'm trying to avoid.”
“Not literally, dumbass. Cut her loose. She sounds like a real bitch anyway. Just tell her it's over and move on. If you're worried about hurting her feelings, it kind of sounds like she's lacking any in that department.”
Pondering Tegan's advice for a moment, Vehn leaned back in his chair. “Yep. You're right, T. Just rip her off like a Band-Aid.” Tegan raised his glass, toasting his friend's decision. “Speaking of girl troubles, what's the deal with you and Tracy?”
“No deal. She's a junky. End of story.”
“Details, please,” Vehn prodded. “She's been like that for years. What was the last straw that made you leave her? I mean, come on, Tegan, you left the only tattoo shop you've ever worked at to come all the way down here. What happened?”
Vehn wasn’t all that surprised when Tegan literally growled at him. The guy wasn’t known for being fond of sharing his personal business.
“Tracy got arrested for drugs… again,” Tegan ground out. “Actually, she ran from the cops after they pulled her over for speeding and chased her down. When they checked the car, they found a large bag of heroine under the seat.”
Tegan put his now empty tumbler down on the table, scrubbing his hands over his face. Vehn could feel the anxiety coming off him in waves and immediately got up, taking both their empty glasses back inside for a refill.
Tegan’s words came out in a rush as soon as Vehn returned. “Thanks, man. It was my car.”
“What? What do you mean your car?”
“The car she was driving was registered in my name,” Tegan admitted, before taking a sip from his drink then setting it on the table in front of him. “She told the cops the drugs were mine. So they came to the studio and questioned me. I volunteered for a drug test to prove the shit wasn't mine. But my boss, Jason, called a lawyer he knew that met me at the police station before I did anything. Long story short, I passed the drug test, no problem. I think the cops already suspected she was lying, given that she had already been busted last year for possession of hydrocodone without a prescription. So the lawyer did his thing and I got to leave. The car was impounded and I didn’t bother to pay the fees to get it back. That's another reason why I just have my bike.”
Vehn watched the muscles in Tegan’s jaw twitch and knew what that meant. He was grinding his back molars because the shit with Tracy was really bothering him. There was more to the story, and Vehn knew not to push. Better to wait and let Tegan tell it at his own pace.
Rubbing his palms together, Tegan studied the back of his hand and cleared his throat before continuing. “I left her there. In jail. I didn't post her bail. I was hoping that she would learn a lesson by having to stay locked up, you know, consequences of your actions kind of thing. Once she made it to court, she got lucky because her first offense wasn’t all that bad and pleaded with the judge that she wanted to go to rehab. She was fined thirty-five hundred dollars with one year probation. She had to check into the hospital that day and begin treatment while she waited on a bed to open up at Hope House. That’s the drug rehab place. I thought she was gonna make it this time. She seemed to be doing alright at the hospital and was excited when she only had to wait a couple of days before she could move over to the rehab place. Next thing I know, I'm gettin
g a call at work from a nurse at Hope House saying she'd left on her own. I went looking for her and finally found her at home. She was passed out with her head jammed between the wall and the toilet. The fucking needle was still shoved in her arm. She rode in the ambulance by herself. I couldn't do it, Vehn. I couldn't do this shit with her anymore. I won't... I won't let her take me down with her.”
“Fuck!”
“Yep, that about sums it up,” Tegan said before tossing back the rest of his drink. “They put her back in jail for breaking the terms of her plea agreement. I filed for divorce the next day.”
“Please tell me that's not guilt I see on your face, Tegan.”
When he didn't respond, Vehn muttered, “You've got nothing to feel guilty about. You've done everything and then some for that bitch.”
“I know, Vehn.”
“Do you? Because the look you're sporting is telling me something entirely different, Tegan. Fuck that bitch! She tried to pin the drugs on you to save her own ass!”
“I know this, Vehn,” Tegan hissed. “But it doesn't make me feel any better about leaving her to deal with this all alone.”
“Well, I guess we're both in the same boat named Guilt floating down a river named Fucked-Up with no paddle in sight.”
Tegan couldn't help but chuckle at that analogy.
“Holy shit, you smiled! I think I even got a glimpse of your teeth!”
Rubbing the back of his neck was Tegan’s way on telling Vehn he was ready to be done with the sharing and caring. “Hey, man, I don't mean to bitch but I'm starving. You wanna hit one of those restaurants you were bragging about?”
“Hell yes! Let's do it. Give me ten minutes to shower and change,” Vehn said, getting up from his chair and making his way over to the glass door. “How about the microbrew place? They have fantastic burgers.”
“Cool, but make it twenty. I gotta familiarize myself with that otherworldly contraption you call a shower.”
Callie grabbed Avie’s arm, startling her as she ended another call. “Avie, please tell me that’s my client and he wants a tattoo on his ass.”
Callie had heard the bell announcing that someone had entered Exotic Ink Tattoo Studio. Figuring it was her next client, she decided to go on up to the front and save Avie the trip. Little did she know there would be a male Adonis standing in the freaking waiting area, and he just happened to be examining one of the framed photographs adorning the studio walls, a photograph that happened to be of her clients' tattoos.
Oh my God, she hoped he liked her work!
“Nope, sorry to disappoint you. That’s the new guy.”
“Holy throbbing clitoris, Batgirl! I’m so going to kiss Evana on the lips for this. I might even use tongue.”
“I’m pretty damn sure she won’t appreciate that.”
Callie just ignored her, performing a slow, deliberate perusal of Tegan’s black-clad profile from the top of his shiny black hair loosely tied back at his nape to his strong square jawline, the leather sport coat that covered some seriously broad shoulders, his long, long legs, and all the way down to his polished black boots that broke his black slacks at just the right spot.
Perfection! Almost as good as Vehn. Almost.
Vehn had the whole happy, sunny feel going on, while this guy was rocking a gloom and mayhem vibe. She preferred joyful to somber, but he was darkly handsome. Alluringly broken in a way that made you want to approach him with caution and heal him all at the same time, like a wounded wild animal.
Callie couldn’t wait to see Evana’s face when she matched the voice from the interview she had been so intrigued by to the actual man. The girl was likely to swoon. Hell, she might even swoon.
Once he locked those icy blue eyes on her, she couldn’t stop herself from being drawn over to him.
“Hi, I'm Callie!” He returned her grin as she literally bounced over to him. Offering her hand in greeting, she began babbling out a whole pile of crap making a complete ass out of herself. “So, you're our new tattoo artist. It's nice to meet you. Evana should be here any minute to show you around. I really hope you like working here. I saw your work—it's really great. I'll bet you can't wait to get your room set up. E—that's what we usually call Evana—lets us decorate our space the way we want. I did mine in a spa theme. When you get time, you should check it out. I like your shirt. It looks like raw silk. And that dark grey is very becoming on you. It really makes your eyes pop. Wow, and your goatee is amazing. I'll bet you have to trim it every day. It looks like you work out...”
Thank God Evana had shown up when she had, saving Callie from any more self-inflicted embarrassment.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting. I'm Evana. Welcome to Exotic Ink,” Evana greeted him.
Apparently, the flesh and blood Tegan had surpassed Evana’s imaginary version of him since the normally graceful woman nearly tripped over her own feet when she first got a look at the new artist.
In return, Tegan was eyeing Evana with an intensity that made Callie squirm under the jealousy that prickled over every square inch of her skin. No doubt he was enthralled with her better than Elizabeth Taylor's peepers. Callie had witnessed many a man lose themselves in those purple depths.
Hesitating but a moment, Tegan shook his new boss' offered hand. “Thanks. It's nice to meet you, and no, you didn't keep me waiting.”
“Well, I see you've already meet Callie and Avie. Cale should be here shortly, but you'll have to wait until next week to meet Rayna. She's out of town,” Evana explained. “So, let me take you on a tour and show you your space, and then you can get settled in.”
“Sounds great.”
“See you soon, Tegan,” Callie smiled, her hands crossed behind her back as she gently swayed back and forth on her feet.
Tegan simply nodded at her before picking up his tattoo machine case and following Evana's graceful form down the hall.
Callie felt the sting of his dismissal… until he looked back, gifting her with a wink that made her insides go all loose.
“Try not to monopolize him, E. The rest of us want to get to know him, too,” Callie couldn’t resist tacking on.
Evana tossed a look over her shoulder at Callie. It was the same one her mom used when Callie acted up in public and it wasn't an appropriate time for a verbal lashing.
Despite the fact that he was a huge, menacing looking man, Callie wasn’t intimated by him in the least. The only thing intimating was her instant attraction to him. She hadn’t gotten this hot over a guy since that first time she'd laid eyes on the cover of a magazine featuring Vehn Mathieu, and couldn’t stop her rampant thoughts of how that silky looking goatee of his would feel moving over her lips… either set.
Maybe this was him. Maybe this was her someone! Callie contemplated, entertaining the notion. Tegan and Callie Steele?
“Not bad… not bad at all,” she mumbled, watching the way his confident gait followed Evana down the hall. She could totally do tall, dark, and menacing.
The bell chimed again and had her turning to greet her client, Brenna. She was excited to be finishing up the back piece today, but not because she wanted to be finished with her client. It was always bittersweet when she finished a large tattoo, an internal struggle between wanting to see the design to its completion and saying goodbye to her client that she normally wouldn’t see again for a while. But she was stoked to see the twenty-hour piece in its entirety.
“Are you ready to get started?” Callie asked.
“Hell yes! I can’t wait to see my sexy alien girl finished,” Brenna exclaimed, playfully wrapping an arm loosely around Callie’s waist. “Hey, Avie.”
“Hey Bren!” Avie waved from her perch at the reception desk. “Would you yell at me before it gets covered up? I would love to see it.”
“Sure thing,” Brenna replied excitedly. “Come on, Callie-Cal-Cal, let’s get started.”
* * *
Two hours later Brenna’s new-school outer space piece was complete. Avie was just lea
ving to head back up front as Callie wiped a soft cloth over the entire piece before applying ointment and a sterile dressing.
Male voices filtered down the hall. Obviously, Cale had met Tegan and the boys were getting acquainted. Two sets of footsteps too heavy to be those of females were drawing closer to her personal space.
Cale was the first to swagger past her opened door. Taking her time smoothing down the edges of Brenna’s dressing, Callie kept her eyes glued to the door opening knowing Tegan would be next… and she was not disappointed.
Her brain shifted into slow motion as he passed by her space. She willed him to glance in her direction, but he didn’t. He was focused on something directly ahead.
Callie breathed deeply hoping to capture a whiff of his dark spicy scent that had sent sparks of tingles to her nether regions out in the lobby. But she was denied. All that filled her nose was the medicinal scent of the tattoo ointment and the nose-tickling ocean breeze candles flickering around her space.
“Alright, Miss Brenna, you’re all wrapped up and ready to go.” Callie tried to not sound so defeated.
Brenna rolled over, sitting up, holding the soft spa-like towel to her chest. “You know, you could always just ask him out.”
“Who?” Callie furrowed her brow in question.
“Bitch, please!” Brenna rolled her eyes as she made her way over to the changing room. “That new guy. That sigh of yours sounded a little love sick. You are so crushing on him. Just ask him out.”
“I… um.” No comebacks made it past the heat flushing her face. She hadn’t realized she had made any sort of audible sound.
“Just ask him out. What have you got to lose?” Brenna leaned forward and whispered before shutting the dressing room door, leaving Callie to ponder extending a dinner invitation to the newest tattoo artist. She hated to admit that the prospect scared the ever-loving shit out of her.
Brenna was wrong; she had a lot to lose if he said no. Firstly, there was her pride, and then the fact that she would have to see him nearly every day knowing he wasn’t interested in her while she pined away for him. Well, maybe not pined away, but it would be seriously embarrassing. Being turned down for a date by Tegan would almost be as sad as her fantasy relationship she had with Vehn Mathieu.
