by L. P. Maxa
I’d marched into that first mixer, my head held high and concealer covering a small hickey on my shoulder. I laughed, I joked, I smiled like it was my fucking job. I wore clothes I’d never dreamed of wearing back home. I wore heels as high as the sky. I reinvented Evie James in one night, and I had every blonde in that building trailing after me like I was the second coming. And best of all, I’d made Hannah basically grovel at my feet before I agreed to join Kappa Delta. I’d also made her deny my bitchy suitemate, Samantha, a spot. I didn’t let anyone put me down, not anymore.
I was Evie fucking James, rock royalty.
I opened the door to Revival Ink, the same bell announcing my arrival and déjà vu taking over my senses. I hadn’t been back here since the fall of my freshman year. And I hadn’t laid eyes on Nicky since then either. I’d debated finding another shop to get my work done, but Revival Ink was the best. What were the chances that he would still be here? He’d told me he’d come down to Dallas to open this location; for all I knew he was back in Austin tattooing my wayward cousins. Two years was a really long time. Hell, he might not even remember me if he did see me.
That would sting a bit, because I still remembered every tattoo on his body. Every freckle, and all his different smiles. The sound of his sexy chuckle still gave me shivers. I could recall, vividly, every moment we’d spent together. And wasn’t that sad as hell? I gave myself a mental scolding. Pull it together, Evie. That night no doubt meant more to you than it ever did to him.
I was here for ink, nothing else. I already knew what I wanted for my next piece, and I’d had it drawn up by Maykin, an art major in my sorority. I stumbled a little on my way to the counter. I’d taken Adderall with my breakfast, and a Vicodin about twenty minutes ago to dim the aftereffects of the needle. Those two weren’t my most favorite combination, the upper and the downer. But I’d be fine. I’d taken worse.
My hand shook as I reached into my bag to get out the drawing. I should have eaten before I took that pain pill. Wait. Had I eaten today? I searched my somewhat cloudy mind, looking for the answer to my own question.
I mentally ticked things off in order: I got up, I took the Adderall, I moved into my new room at the house. I’d gone to the Beta pool party for a bit, gotten bored, and…hmm. What had I done after that? Oh. Right. Cocktails for lunch with my favorite fake friend Maykin, which was when she gave me the completed drawing. Then I’d decided on a whim to get inked today, and instead of trying to make an appointment, I’d run into Chasity at Starbucks, taken the Vicodin and now I was here. Waaaaa-la.
In closing, I hadn’t eaten. But I would, as soon as I was done here. I made a mental note to remember food. I was busy all the time. Food slipped my mind more often than not these days.
“How can I help…crap.” The tattooed blue-eyed guy from the first time I’d been here threw his hands in the air. “I’m out, I already did four anchors today.” I snorted under my breath. I guess some things never change. “Yo, Nicky, get your sexy ass out here, I’m going on break.”
I. Froze. At. The. Sound. Of. His. Name.
Holy shit. My hands were no longer the only thing shaking. I felt like my heart was going to vibrate right out of my chest, and my stomach was in knots. Why had I come back here? Why had I ever thought he’d be long gone? Did I do this on purpose? No. There was no way I consciously walked in knowing I’d see Nicky.
I needed to leave. I needed to leave and never ever—
“Bleu, man, I should really fire you one of these days.” Nicky came from the back, the sound of his voice stopping my mini internal panic attack in its tracks. He was drying his hands on a paper towel. I could tell the instant he recognized me. His lips parted and his pretty green eyes narrowed. “Evie?”
“Hey.” I didn’t know if I should wave, or high five him. So I stayed still, my hands at my sides.
“You know him?”
I completely ignored Chasity, who was standing behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my sudden onslaught of drug-induced nerves. They had to be drug induced. Nicky meant nothing to me. Seeing him again after all this time? Meant. Nothing. Other than the fact that I was somewhat delusional in coming here.
“I, uh, I want another tattoo. You were right.” I threw my hands up, a smile I didn’t really feel on my face. “They’re addicting.” I let out a somewhat bored laugh, straightening my spine. I lifted my chin and clutched my hands together, hoping he wouldn’t notice and think the shaking was because of him.
Not a chance, Nicky. It’s all the pills and booze I’d consumed today.
I watched as he took in my face, my hair. His eyes traveled down my body, stopping at the tattoo he’d done for me years ago. When I first picked the spot, I thought I’d keep it covered most of the time. And I had, in the beginning. But the longer I had it, and the more I changed, the more I tended to show it off as often as possible. Like today, I was wearing incredibly short cut-offs and a black silky shirt, which only brought out the dark ink more.
He cleared his throat, the familiar sound making me bite my lip. “Come on back.” He spun on his heel and walked down the hall, not sparing me another glance.
“You can either wait, or not.” I shrugged at Chasity, feigning indifference and making sure my tone bordered on rude. I wanted her to leave. I needed her to leave. But if I told her to go, nosiness would force her to stay.
When I took a step to follow after the only guy who’d ever made me shiver in pleasure, she grabbed my arm. “How exactly do you know him?” Her face held a hint of disgust and I suddenly wanted to slap that look away. Nicky was literally one of the most gorgeous creatures on this planet. And the fact that Chasity was turning her nose up because he had tattoos and not a trust fund was making me see red.
“I get my work done from the best, and Revival Ink is the best.” I jerked my arm away. I refused to tell her how well I knew Nicky. It wasn’t her business. I scoffed as I walked away, doing my best to make my “friend” feel stupid and insignificant. It wasn’t abuse. She’d do the same to me if our roles were reversed.
“You got a drawing or something?” Nick was leaning against the long black counter when I stepped into the room, his perfect arms folded over his chest. He looked the same, but hotter, if that was even possible. Maybe it was because I’d seen him naked. Maybe it was because the memories of our one night together were so fresh and clear in my mind.
I sat my purse in the armchair against the opposite wall, handing him the piece of paper I’d brought with me. “I want it down my side, starting here.” I pointed to my ribs, right next to my breast. “And ending here.” I trailed my finger down to my hipbone.
His eyes followed, and then snapped back up to my face. I hadn’t meant to flirt with him, I really hadn’t. It was kind of habit these days though.
“Let me get it transferred over.” He took a different blanket out of the same cabinet. “I’ll need your shirt off and your shorts pulled down a bit.” He gave me his back, working on transferring my tattoo and giving me a chance to get changed.
I wasn’t the same girl I was when I first met him. I wasn’t shy. I wasn’t inexperienced and nervous. And I didn’t need him to turn away while I changed. But I felt like saying all those thoughts out loud would make me sound like an asshole, so I kept my mouth shut and took off all my clothes. I left my underwear on, but that was it. I wrapped the warm waffle-knit blanket around my body and stood behind him.
I watched as he worked, bent over his desk, eyes focused. That stare of concentration on his face made me smile; it made me remember him sketching me in his bed. I told him I would regret nothing about our night together, but that had turned out to be a lie. I regretted not taking that drawing with me. I regretted not having anything tangible about our night together to remember him by. Yeah, I had the tattoo, but that wasn’t “ours.” It was mine.
He turned around, gesturing for me to stand in front of the mirror. I took my place, moving the blanket to expose my side without him having
to ask. He stared at my reflection in the mirror, his eyes once again traveling the length of my body. His pupils dilated, and I knew that he now knew I was basically naked. It didn’t do it for him though. I did it for me; my clothes felt like sandpaper against my skin, and I’d wanted them gone.
“You want to tell me about this one?” He placed the transfer paper on my side, his gaze narrowing slightly as he smoothed it down. “But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never claim the rose.” His gaze met mine. “One of the Brontë sisters, right?” I’d had Maykin draw a long vine of thorny roses, the words to the quote wrapping around them.
“Yeah, Ann.” I let out a little laugh, surprised that he recognized the quote. Ann Brontë was less celebrated than her sisters, and she’d died young. “How did you know that?”
“I minored in classic English literature at Texas State ’fore I dropped out to start tattooing with my uncle.”
I didn’t know that about him, but then again, we’d only spent one night together. We didn’t talk, not really. And I’d been gone before the sun had come all the way up.
Nicky patted the table. “Lay on your side, cover up however you want, but don’t smudge the transfer.” He sat down in his stool, getting the gun and ink ready. I couldn’t get a read on him. I mean, I knew he remembered me, and he was as caring as he had been two years ago. But he also seemed distant. Guarded, maybe? Was he still angry at me for asking him to take my virginity? Did he regret it?
I treasured the memory of our night together and I held it in my heart. I was a bitch on the outside, ruthless and sometimes cruel. But inside I was still me…at least I thought I was. Sometimes it was hard to tell, hard to separate the rocker chick from the quiet girl who read for fun. Nicky was the last bright, pure spot in my life before everything changed.
When I had sex again, for the first time after Nicky, I got down on my knees and thanked whoever was listening. I thanked them for letting Nicky be my first, I thanked them for that small miracle. Nicky was a kind man, and I’d learned that wasn’t a common trait. It had taken me a while to learn how to be the user, not the one being used.
I held the purple blanket to my chest, letting the rest of it kind of dangle. I lay down like he instructed, draping the end of the material over my thigh. “This good?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He put on his black gloves, touching my skin and sending instant chills down my spine. Time had done nothing to lessen the effect he had on my body. Nothing. And I had been kidding myself if I had ever thought otherwise.
I clenched my fists under the blanket, trying like hell to stop the tremor that was starting to take over my body. I knew that I should get up and leave. I knew that I wasn’t in any shape to do this today. But the thought of leaving here without the sting of the needle on my skin was something I couldn’t bear. I couldn’t explain it, not at all.
I only knew that in that moment, I needed Nicky and I craved his needle.
Chapter Nine
Nick
Evie James. She was thinner than she was the first time we met. Her hair was a bit shorter, and so were her clothes. Although at the moment she was naked on my table. She no longer seemed innocent, that was for damn sure. If anything, she seemed jaded. But she was still beautiful, she still made my mouth water.
And once again, she’d picked a great tattoo. She was unpredictable that way, I guess. The first time I’d inked her, I thought she’d seemed so sweet. And tattooing that hidden skull on her smooth skin had felt a lot like foreplay.
This time? She was shaking, her body humming. I knew it wasn’t nerves, I could tell the difference. She wasn’t timid, she wasn’t scared, and she didn’t jump at the sound of the gun. She never had. No, this was all chemically induced. She was on something, and that right there showed how much she’d changed in the last two years.
I was stalling, and I was pretty sure she could tell. The longer I spent getting everything set up, the more she shook.
“So, tell me how you’ve been, Evie? It’s been a while.” I’d hated waking up to find her gone. Her note had eased the sting, no doubt, but it still sucked. I’d had fun with her, and I thought she’d had fun with me. I worried about her. I thought about her every day for weeks. I wondered if she regretted what she asked of me. I wondered if she hated me, or worse, hated herself. “Tell me about life.”
“Great, everything is so great.” Her smile was too big, her eyes too wide. I’d only spent one night with the girl, yet I knew she was lying.
I paused with my gun hovering over her perfect skin. I’d had no real plan to dig into her life when she first lay down. If I was being honest, I’d wanted to ink her and then send her on her way. Evie James was a weakness of mine, and it’d taken me a long time to shake thoughts of her after the night we’d spent together. I didn’t need a weakness that came in the form of a leggy coed with snotty friends.
But as soon as I’d placed my palm against her body and felt her ribs, I couldn’t help myself. “Really?”
“Yeah, you know, things are going really well. I’ll be a junior next year. I’m in charge of spring rush.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder, her hand shaking before she could hide it back under the blanket. “I moved into the Kappa Delta house today.” She nodded, her smile only going wider. “I’ve been busy, you know, charities.” She let out a fake-sounding laugh that made me want to punch something. “I know. I’m shaking a little. I, uh, I went to barre class this morning and then had a couple meetings I couldn’t miss. I haven’t had a chance to eat but—”
“Stop.” That was it. I’d seen and heard enough. I put my gun down and watched as panic filled her dark eyes. “Shaking? You’re basically vibrating in your seat, your pupils are pin points, and you’re thin as the rails you’re no doubt putting up your nose. You look like you’re three fucking seconds away from passing out, and I honestly don’t think I can, in good conscience, tattoo you today.”
She sat up suddenly, clutching the blanket to her chest, barely covering her breasts and grabbing my arm. “You have to tattoo me. You have to. I need it.”
She needed it? The way she said it, like it was a fucking release for her or something. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t in the fucking realm of okay. “Jesus, Evie, what the fuck happened to you?”
“I just, uh, I’ll pay you double okay?” She nodded her head frantically, pulling my hand back toward my gun. “Please, Nicky.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of my name leaving her plump lips. She was in front of me, high as a fucking kite and all it was all I could do to keep the memories of our night together from bombarding my brain and making my dick swell. She was in no shape to get a tattoo, let alone get bent over this table and fucked.
“Triple. I’ll pay you triple.”
I opened my eyes and scooted back, hands up, shaking my head. I knew she was on something, I knew she was different. But the way she was acting right now, it wasn’t okay. It was like she was jonesing for something, for anything. Like she needed to feel, even if it was the sting of the needle on her skin. “No. Evie, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“I’ll go somewhere else.” She swallowed, her eyes growing hard and defiant. “We both know no one else will turn down triple payment for tattooing me.”
“You turned into a real bitch, you know that?” She shrugged. “That’s not going to work again, not this time, princess.” She winced at my words and started to worry her bottom lip. “Get dressed.” I was done. She needed help, not a damn tattoo. I had half a mind to call my uncle. He’d be able to contact her dad. Let her family deal with her shit.
“You sure about that?” She was challenging me, and she was pissing me off a bit.
“You aren’t my problem. You never wanted to be.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You made that pretty clear when you snuck out of my bed before the sun was up. Remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” Her eyes raked boldly down my body. Who the hell was this chick? She’d stayed in a permanent state of blushing
the whole night we’d spent together. I think I asked her if she was okay like a hundred times.
She finally stood, but instead of getting dressed she wrapped the blanket around her tighter and opened the door. “Hey, Bleu?”
“Yeah?” Bleu stuck his head into the hallway, his eyes darting between her and me. “Uh, what’s up, hot naked chick?”
“Nicky doesn’t want to do my rib piece.” She moved the covers, flashing him the side of her breast, the thin strap of her thong and the transfer I’d done before I’d realized how far gone she was. “You in?”
“Hell yeah I’m in.” He hopped over the half wall that divided part of the front desk and sauntered into the room. “That is going to look—”
“Get out.” I uncrossed my arms and made my fists dangle, letting out an annoyed as fuck sigh. Because that was how I felt. Annoyed. As fuck. As well as jealous and territorial, and worried. I’d tattooed her first, I’d been the first one in that tight little body of hers; her skin was mine. Fuck if it made any damn sense. “Now.” I eyed my best friend, pointing toward the door.
He hung his head like a scolded child and then left, shutting the door behind him.
“That was rude.”
My eyes went wide. “I’m rude? You’re extorting me. Again.”
“Turned out okay for you the first time, didn’t it?” She narrowed her gaze, daring me to tell her she was wrong.
“Yeah well, the first time the package was a lot more appealing.” Now that was rude. And a damn lie. Evie was still as gorgeous as she always was. But she was also high and too thin and seemingly out of control.
“Fine. I’ll leave.” I knew she wasn’t bluffing, and I knew that tattooing her like this wouldn’t hurt her. If anything, she’d probably pass out from the release and get some of the real rest she no doubt needed.
I was weak the first time I’d met her, and apparently not much had changed. On my end at least. “I’ll tattoo you on two conditions.”
