Flow: Men of Inked: Southside 2

by Bliss, Chelle

  “I haven’t decided yet. It’s too early to think,” I grumble into my coffee mug.

  I’ve never been much of a morning person, and that’s probably why working at the bar suits me so well. I can sleep in whenever I want and never have to worry about setting an alarm. My brother is obviously a morning person, or he wouldn’t be so damn chipper at this hour.

  He stares down at his reflection in the polished black granite. “Mine’s going amazing.” He peeks up at me for a few seconds before going back to admiring himself. “Thanks for asking.”

  “Fucker,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So, Michelle and I were talking last night.”

  The cup is halfway to my mouth when I stop. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

  “She said she wants to take you out. That you need a break from working, and since I’m in town…” he continues without providing me any reassurance he didn’t try to get into Michelle’s pants. He stares straight into my eyes and says something I never expected. “I’m going to cover your shift so you two can have a night out.”

  I put my cup down and try to comprehend how any of this makes sense. Vinnie is never the first one to volunteer for anything. “Vinnie, I love you, but…” My voice trails off.

  But then I think about it. The bar is partially his, and he needs to put in some time like the rest of us. He’s collecting checks every month from the profits; he may as well earn a little of the money too.

  “I think you’re right. It’s a great idea.”

  “Is it?” His mouth hangs open.

  “It is.”

  I don’t really care about going out with Michelle, but I think he deserves to walk a mile in our shoes.

  “Well, okay then,” he says quickly.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, giving him one more out and expecting him to take it.

  “Completely. Last night was a breeze. I’m sure tonight will be more of the same.”

  I don’t bother telling him Saturday night is always more crowded than Friday. Last night, we were slammed after people heard he was back in town. Tonight, it will be worse. But Vinnie seemed to handle everything in stride.

  All the little neighborhood women, both young and old, would be there to get a glimpse of Vinnie Gallo—the Italian football god with pristine olive skin and green eyes.

  “You’re smart. I’m sure you can handle it,” I reassure him, even though I’m not entirely convinced.

  He covers his mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. Those girls exhausted me last night.”

  “Girls?”

  “Three,” he says with a smug grin.

  There’s no point in lecturing him about sleeping with customers. Vinnie’s going to do whatever he wants, when he wants, how he wants. We’ve all given him the sex talk. The rest is up to him. “Go rest. You’re going to need it tonight.”

  “Oh, I know.” His dimples appear as he rubs his hands together. “I’m hoping for round two.”

  My eyes widen. I shouldn’t be surprised by anything or anyone my brother does anymore. “Two nights in a row with the same chicks?”

  “Hell no. Variety is the spice of life.”

  “I’m glad to see you have your priorities in order,” I say to him as he walks toward his bedroom.

  He turns around, holding the side of the door with his hand. “Wear something nice tonight, and put on some makeup. Michelle has big plans for you.”

  Before I can reply, he shuts the door, and I can hear his laughter on the other side.

  “Fuckers,” I mumble. “Both of them.”

  Those two cooked up something without clueing me in on their little scheme. I send a text to Michelle to get the scoop, and my phone rings as soon as she reads the text message.

  “Hello.”

  “Oh my God, Daphne. I have the best night planned for us.”

  “Yeah?” I try to sound excited.

  “Yes!”

  I stare in the mirror, running my finger along the bags under my eyes as she chatters on about how amazing everything is going to be.

  “What time are we going out?”

  “I’ll be there to pick you up at nine, and wear something pretty like a dress or that cute-as-fuck black miniskirt you have tucked away somewhere in the bowels of your closet.”

  “I have sexy clothes.”

  “Not since you called it quits with Leo. Anyway, a flannel and jeans do not equal sexy unless you’re a lumberjack. Last time I checked, you didn’t fit the bill. You’ve been in a rut, my friend.”

  I glance down and tug at the edge of my favorite red flannel. “I think I’m pretty hot. And you wore a flannel last night.”

  “Just look good tonight, or I’m picking out your clothes when I get there.”

  “Fine,” I groan.

  “Hey, Daphne,” she says before I can hang up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shave your bits too.” She ends the call before I can ask why it matters. I’m not going to sleep with anyone.

  * * *

  Michelle gasps when I open the front door.

  Somehow, I managed to get my favorite pencil skirt on without falling over, and it’s hugging all my curves in just the right spots. I feel a little bit like the old Daphne again. The one who didn’t spend a month sulking, trying to pretend Leo Conti didn’t exist.

  “Dayumn!” Her eyes travel down my body, ending at my feet, which are covered in the cutest black high heels.

  “I did good?” I touch my cleavage, regretting the new push-up bra I bought last week because my tits look off-the-chain huge.

  “You’re you again.” She whistles, looking impressed. “Someone’s going to get lucky.”

  “I’m not sleeping with anyone tonight, Michelle,” I tell her again because she doesn’t seem to believe me.

  “Did you shave?” She grabs my arm, lifting it high in the air, but I pull it back quickly. “Phew. But did you shave everything?”

  “Why do I have to shave everything if I’m not sleeping with anyone?”

  “Because you need dick badly, and no man wants a bush.”

  I roll my eyes and already know this is going to be a very long night.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, we’re standing outside, waiting in line for a nightclub on the North Side. “What is this place?”

  “It’s the hottest club right now.” She reapplies her lip gloss for the tenth time since we stepped out of the car.

  “This doesn’t look like much of a club.” I peer up at the building, and it looks like it should’ve been condemned ten years ago.

  “Look at the line.” She motions to the people behind us with the tube still in her hand. “There’s the proof. Looks can be deceiving. Kind of like you in that flannel. You look frumpy, but you clean up nice.”

  “Watch it. I always look good. I just don’t need to get all dolled up every day for Johnny and the guys at the bar.”

  “You never know who’s walking through that door, princess. You’re not getting any younger either. Stop dwelling on a guy you can’t have and look for one you can ride—” she pauses and giggles “—into the sunset with.”

  “Michelle, baby. I’ve missed you,” the bouncer says and totally catches me off guard. I’ve never been here, but Michelle’s obviously been here enough to make friends with the guy.

  “Hey, handsome,” Michelle says flirtatiously before kissing him on the cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “No man tonight?” he asks.

  Man? I can’t remember the last time Michelle had a boyfriend, but it’s been at least a year. This club hasn’t even been open that long.

  “Just my girl.” She knocks her shoulder into me.

  “You’re holding up the line here!” someone behind us yells.

  The bouncer glares down the sidewalk, and his black eyes narrow on the crowd. “The natives are getting restless. You ladies be careful in t
here. If you need anything, let me know.”

  She nods and pulls me inside the doors before people start throwing shit at the backs of our heads. “Man, they’re vicious out there,” she says as we step into the dark corridor with a faint light at the other end.

  “How come I’ve never met your friend, and who’s the guy you come here with?” I ask as the walls rattle around us from the thumping bass.

  “Walk faster.” She tugs on my arm and ignores my question. “We’re missing the action.”

  When we reach the light, I’m momentarily blinded. I cover my eyes with my hands, and I blink a few times, trying to let my vision adjust. I spread my fingers apart slowly and take in the sight before me. “Holy fuck!”

  “Come on,” she mouths, her voice drowned out by the wicked beat.

  As we walk, I bump into no fewer than twenty people, but no one seems to mind. People are dancing, intoxicated by the music, booze, and probably drugs too. They’re too wasted to even care that I almost knock them over.

  Once we’re at the bar, Michelle holds up two fingers to the bartender like she’s a regular.

  “You like?” she yells in my ear, jutting her chin out toward the dance floor.

  I shrug. I haven’t decided what I think yet. I can’t wrap my mind around this place. From the outside, it looks like a run-down building, though the inside is anything but.

  There’re massive columns with cages on top scattered throughout the large room with barely dressed women writhing inside. The DJ booth at the other end is lit up in red with a small crowd inside, jumping up and down to the beat. There have to be easily a thousand people in here.

  Michelle bumps my arm and holds out a martini glass filled with something purple. I don’t bother to ask what it is because I can’t hear shit anyway. She pushes it toward my lips. “Drink it,” she says, or at least, that’s what I think she says because I still can’t hear her.

  Blackberry dances across my tongue as I take my first mouthful. My insides are rattling with each thump and beat as one song bleeds into another while I sip my martini.

  Michelle motions toward the dance floor with her thumb and tells me to drink up. In the too-high but super-cute heels, I stagger toward the dance floor and toss back the last drop of the martini. I set the empty glass on a table before I step onto the shiny black tile with a crowd so large I can’t even see the other side.

  I’ve never claimed to be an amazing dancer, but with the intoxicating beat and the dim lighting, I feel sexy again. My body’s moving, flowing with the rhythm as I dance around Michelle. She’s busting moves that I haven’t seen her make since high school prom.

  My body’s flushed and covered in sweat, but I push my embarrassment aside and keep on dancing with Michelle. She’s eating it up, dropping to the floor like something straight out of a music video.

  When the song ends and the group around us claps, we bow together and break out into laughter as we run off the dance floor like we’re kids again. We wind our way down another hallway, different from the one we entered through, until it opens onto a giant courtyard.

  “Let’s get another drink and cool off out here.”

  The patio is lined with the tropical trees and overhead twinkling white lights against the starry sky.

  I jostle from foot-to-foot, eyeing the only empty table across the patio. “I need to sit.” I don’t even need to look to know a blister is starting to form and the skin near my Achilles tendon is wearing away.

  “Find a seat, and I’ll get the drinks,” she tells me before walking away.

  I stand there for a moment, watching Michelle as she heads toward the bar, before I take a step. I don’t even make it more than a few feet before I collide with something solid, someone big.

  I stumble backward, ready to fall until strong hands wrap around my arms. “Sorry,” I say, lifting my face to see the one man I came here to forget.

  Fuck.

  13

  Leo

  “Leo,” she says with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I know the owner and stopped in for a quick meeting,” I lie because I don’t want her to know I tracked her down.

  I do actually know the owner, but my visit to the club has nothing to do with business and everything to do with Daphne.

  I took a big risk. I went to Hook & Hustle, hoping no one would recognize me, and paid a waitress a hundred bucks to tell me where Daphne was. I went there with every intention of talking to her, but when I found out she took the night off, I knew this was my chance.

  “Oh. Well.” She glances down at her feet. “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “How have you been?” I ask, trying to find a way to keep the conversation going and feeling her out.

  “Really well.” She gives me a fake smile. “And you?”

  “Good.” There’s an awkward pause as we stare at each other.

  She’s so beautiful. The month apart was harder than I expected. I sent flowers every few days, making sure she didn’t forget about me and always knew I was thinking about her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Daphne glances over her shoulder, and my eyes follow hers to Michelle. “It’s probably best if you don’t.”

  I reach over and brush her hair off her shoulder, touching her skin with the backs of my fingers. Daphne doesn’t pull away, and I know she’s struggling as much as I am. “Just one,” I beg.

  Daphne turns again, looking toward her friend. “Michelle doesn’t like you much.”

  “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not interested in Michelle. Please sit,” I tell her, pulling out a chair at the table next to us. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t be too long,” she says as she sits down and relaxes back into the chair.

  As soon as I order our drinks, Michelle walks over, tapping her fingernail against her glass. “I don’t like you,” she tells me, reinforcing what Daphne has already told me.

  “I know.”

  “You’re dangerous.”

  “I’m not.” I keep my cool, knowing if I don’t win over the best friend, there’s no hope of ever getting Daphne. “My father may be—just like Daphne’s—but I am not dangerous.”

  Michelle eyes me. “What are your intentions toward my best friend?” She raises an eyebrow and cocks her head.

  “Intentions?”

  She nods. “Are you just playing with her heart, or are you more into the whole mindfuck thing?”

  “Neither.” I turn toward Michelle and rest my elbow on the bar. “Have you ever met someone and wanted them so badly you can’t even explain it?”

  “Well, maybe,” she says and fidgets with the drink in her hand as she glances down at the floor.

  The only thing I can do is lay all my cards on the table. “Listen, I know there’re a million reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but none of them matters because of how I feel about her.”

  Michelle drops her chin and peers up at me. “And that would be?”

  I’ve never been one to talk openly about my feelings, especially with a stranger. But I know Michelle’s the key to my ever having a chance with Daphne, and that means I have to be open and honest.

  “I love her.” The words slide off my tongue with ease. Maybe because I’m not saying them to Daphne’s face, but professing them to her best friend. “I know it’s crazy. We barely know each other, but…”

  “No,” she says, cutting me off. “It’s not crazy.” Her words shock me. “I’ve known Daphne my entire life, and I’ve never seen her so tied up in knots over someone.” She leans forward and drops her voice. “She’d kill me for saying this, but I think she loves you too. I’ve never seen her as miserable as I have the last month.”

  “Then I have to set shit straight and get my girl,” I tell Michelle.

  “Daphne isn’t the obstacle. It’s your father and hers that are the issue. I’ve warned Daphne about you, told her to stay away. But I can’t do it anymore. I’ve never seen her so sad, and I can tell you
care for her. I’ll give my blessing and bow out tonight, giving you two time together.”

  “You’d do that?” I’m shocked Michelle is so willing to give us tonight.

  “Of course.” She smiles and glances in Daphne’s direction. “Just figure out a way to make shit right, or you won’t have to worry about Santino Gallo. I’ll hunt you down myself.”

  I laugh. Michelle’s small, but I can see the same fierceness in her eyes I see in Daphne’s. “I’ll figure out a way.”

  I’ve made multimillion-dollar business deals before. Our fathers are no different. They’re driven by the dollar and ego. I just have to tap in to how the relationship could benefit them in order for them to call a truce, making an opening for Daphne and me to be together. It sounds simple enough, but I know their egos will be the problem. If Santino is anything like my father, I’m going to have an uphill battle.

  “I know what it’s like when you want to be with someone so badly your chest hurts,” she admits. “I’ll never give up hope, and I don’t think Daphne’s ready to walk away from you either. Now, go,” she tells me and shoos me away from the bar. “Make me believe true love is possible against all the odds.”

  Concern’s written all over Daphne’s face as I walk toward the table with our drinks in hand, ready to spill my guts. This is new territory for me. I’ve never wanted someone like I want Daphne, and sharing my feelings isn’t something I’m used to either.

  “Where’s Michelle going?” she asks as I sit down and place a whiskey neat in front of her.

  I glance over my shoulder, seeing Michelle head back into the nightclub. “She’s giving us time alone.”

  “Why?” Daphne’s eyes widen. “That’s not like Michelle.”

  I don’t want to go into detail, telling Daphne how I basically poured my heart out to Michelle and professed my feelings to her best friend. The first time I say the words, I want them to be special…to mean something. I don’t want to say them in a trendy nightclub where the seriousness of them will have less impact.