The Sexy Tattooist

by Joey Bush

  To be fair, I told them about the horrible time I’d had going down the slopes over break; I didn’t tell them that I’d been with Jaxon, just that it was a family visit and I’d been trying to master some of the tricks I knew would come in handy once competition season really got started—and that I’d eaten more snow than I cared to in the process. Everyone was laughing as I described the epic failure of all my tricks, how often I’d body-slammed the slopes, or landed on my ass, or ended up face-planting or missing the landing to an aerial. We all started sharing “war stories” about tricks gone wrong, laughing it up, and all of my tension at the thought of having to deal with being around Jaxon started to go away. It was nice—it was good to stop thinking about him for a while.

  As soon as the squad I was on was warmed up, we hit the slopes, doing runs. I remembered that it had been a while since I’d gone down the practice slope—I was used to real snow after the holiday—so I took it easy for a few runs, testing out my reflexes, getting a feel for the material under my board; how slick it was, how fast and where there was drag. It was the closest thing to regular snow that they could come up with, but it still wasn’t exactly the same. “You know,” I said at one point to a member of my squad, “they really need to make it more cost-effective to actually build snow slopes.” Everyone agreed—it would be awesome to get real snow experience while we were practicing. I started to do a few flashier tricks, building on what little practice I’d been able to get while I was on Thanksgiving break; as I did, though, Jaxon’s advice to me kept popping up in my head. I’d hear his voice in my mind, telling me how to twist out of a bad trajectory, or how to smooth out a landing that had already gone bad without falling.

  I managed to make it about halfway through the practice session before Jaxon caught my eye. My squad was taking a break, sitting on the sidelines to catch our breath before we worked on balance and cross-coordination with one of the trainers at the facility. Jaxon’s squad, all upperclassmen guys, took to the practice slope. I tried not to watch. I tried to just pretend like it was anyone at all—but I had to admit to myself that Jaxon looked good in his gear. He looked even better busting out grabs and aerials. No matter how screwed up the situation between us was, I couldn’t deny that he was an awesome boarder. I knew from watching him before and from seeing him on the slopes that he was focused, dedicated, that he worked for hours on a trick without even caring if he injured himself. “Every injury is a lesson,” he’d told me before we’d gone our separate ways. “If you’re going to break your arm or your leg, you might as well learn something from it.” I knew he’d broken half the bones in his body in the different sports he did—mostly in snowboarding. He’d broken both of his clavicles, an arm, one of his legs—even the bones in his hands and feet.

  But watching him go through his runs, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him—and neither could most of the other girls on my squad. I tried not to blush as I heard what they were saying about him; how hot he was, how much fun he’d be in the sack. You guys don’t even know, I thought to myself. They had no idea just how good he was in bed—but I did.

  While I watched him go through his practice runs, I realized that I wasn’t even paying attention to anything around me. Everyone might as well have been speaking Mandarin for all that I heard them—and the worst part was that I was feeling more and more attracted to him by the minute. It hit me all at once, and my heart started beating faster. Even when we moved over to work with the trainers, I couldn’t keep myself from watching Jaxon; he was that good. I started to shake all over, sweat breaking out on my skin that had nothing to do with exercise. I couldn’t take it. I had to get out of there. Obviously it had all been a huge mistake; I wasn’t ready to deal with him, I couldn’t ignore him, I couldn’t even be around Jaxon in a crowd without getting all hot and bothered thinking about and watching him. I swallowed against the tight feeling in my throat, the dryness in my mouth.

  “Hey, guys, I think I must have actually hurt myself over the holiday, planting my face in the mountain,” I said, trying to sound less nervous than I was. “I think I’m just going to head back to the dorms and put some icy hot on my quads and hams—they’re killing me.” I was paranoid that someone might realize what was going on, that everything would come tumbling out of me: the fact that I’d had sex with Jaxon, that we were step-siblings, the whole stupid, ugly, disgusting mess. But everyone was sympathetic. Someone told me to make sure to pop a couple of Aleve, someone else recommended catching a yoga class once the pain went away, everyone told me they’d make sure to let me know about the next practice session, and in the meantime I should take it easy. I got out of there as fast as I could, making myself look straight ahead, pushing back the temptation to look over my shoulder and watch Jaxon doing his thing on the practice slopes. That was the last thing I needed to do, when my hormones were raging and my whole body was buzzing for him. I needed a cold shower and a long study session to get my mind off of everything else.

  Chapter Four

  The entire drive back to the dorms I was cussing out loud, slamming my head against the seat back in my car, my hands against the steering wheel. I hated myself for pushing a bad situation too far. I hated the fact that, in spite of telling Jaxon I couldn’t deal with having anything to do with him, I still found myself wanting him. I had worked so hard to try and get over him—I’d completely deprived myself of being around my best friends because they belonged to the same frat as him! I didn’t even really have a social life anymore, all because I was trying so hard to avoid him and get over him. And then all it took was maybe a half hour and I was thinking about him again, staring at him, remembering how good it had been to have sex with him.

  By the time I got back to the dorms, at least, I had it out of my system. My throat was a little raw from screaming, and my head was aching—along with my hands—but I wasn’t going to be walking to the dorms looking like some weepy girl who’d just gotten broken up with. I took a deep breath and promised myself a long shower—maybe hot instead of cold, to work out the pain I felt throbbing in my muscles—and maybe a beer stolen from the communal fridge in the common area of the room. It could be worse, I kept telling myself. I could have been just as distracted in the practice facility as I’d been on the slopes the last time I’d gone out with Jaxon, Bob and Mom. I could have humiliated myself by bursting into tears in front of everyone. I could have told the whole damned team about what had happened between Jaxon and me. Instead I’d made my excuses and left, and hopefully by the time the next practice rolled around, I would be okay enough to stick through the whole thing without getting distracted.

  I was still psyching myself up when I got to my dorm room door; I was ripped out of my thoughts at the sound of someone saying my name. “Yo, Mia!” I looked up from my gear, my heart pounding—for just a second I thought it might have been Jaxon, that he might have taken a short cut. Instead, it was Jeremy, the guy who’d been my entry into the frat, who’d introduced me to everyone in the first place. I tried not to be obvious as I sighed in relief.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling at him. “I’m just getting back from practice—had to leave early, my legs are just not up to it today.” Jeremy’s face was serious—almost worried—and he looked me up and down.

  “Can I help you with your gear, or are you too tough for that?” he grinned and I handed over the strap on my duffel. I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door to let us both in. For just a moment, I almost wished that it had been Jeremy I’d gotten attracted to instead of Jaxon; Jeremy was pretty easy on the eyes, he was on the baseball team, and he’d been my closest friend in the frat ever since we’d played a game of basketball together before I’d even heard of Phi Kappa. He was even single—I’d seen him date a few girls but never anything serious.

  “What brings you over to my neck of the woods?” I asked, sitting down in the empty common room. Suddenly I was nervous all over again; had Jaxon told Jeremy about what had happened? They didn’t seem to be that
close—but it was hard to tell in the frat. Guys talked amongst themselves in stupid little cliques that didn’t make any real sense to me, and maybe Jaxon had just let everything out after a night of drinking.

  “Kinda getting worried about you, Mi-mi,” Jeremy admitted, sitting down in the ugly-but-comfortable chair a few feet away. “You missed out on a total blow-out the other night; that’s not like you.” I shrugged.

  “Well, you know, just trying to get my grades in order—I slacked off big time before the holiday.” Jeremy looked at me levelly.

  “Bullshit. You’re smart, and I know you wouldn’t have let your grades fall in the first place.” I bit my bottom lip. Jeremy knew me well enough by now to know when I was lying. We weren’t quite as close as the guys in the frat were to each other, but we’d talked enough times—and I’d given him enough advice—for him to know that I was avoiding the frat house.

  “I’m just trying to get my head in order,” I said, picking at imaginary lint on my pants.

  “Look,” Jeremy said, brushing aside any excuses I might make. “If you were really okay, you’d come by and watch the game with us. It’s Denver-Portland, sure to be a total shit-show.” I laughed.

  “I can’t. I’ve got a lot going on here—and man, I just need a shower and a beer, you know?” Jeremy shook his head.

  “If you’re really okay, if everything’s all right, you’ll prove it by hanging out with us like always. I’m not the only one over there wondering what happened.” I bit my bottom lip.

  “Jeremy, come on. I’m just…I’m tired and shit. That’s all.”

  “You’re avoiding us.” Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I mean, I can sort of figure that it has to do with Jaxon, but that’s all I know. Jax isn’t even going to be there—he’s got a late class. It’ll just be me and the usual guys you always hang out with.” I thought about it for a long moment. Jeremy was right; I had been avoiding them. I’d been avoiding the whole frat house because I didn’t want to have to deal with Jaxon—I didn’t want to run into him, didn’t want to talk about him or to him, didn’t want to think about him.

  But I’d missed them. I’d been completely miserable hanging out in the dorms, going straight to class and only hanging out with my roommates. It was so boring—and I thought to myself that if things could just get a little bit closer to back to normal, I would be okay. If I kept avoiding everyone and everything to do with Jaxon, how would I ever get used to him being my brother? I wouldn’t. I needed to relax and hang out with the guys. It would be a good break, and I didn’t even have to worry about running into Jaxon.

  “At least let me take a shower first,” I said, grinning. “I’m stinking from practice. No one should have to deal with that.” Jeremy laughed.

  “Okay. Get a shower; I’ll hang out here and watch the pre-game commentary and then we’ll walk over to the house and get a few beers in you.”

  ***

  I got a quick shower and changed into a tee shirt and jeans, then Jeremy and I walked across campus together to the frat house. I was tense as we walked through the door—thinking that Jaxon still might be there. But in a matter of moments it was obvious that Jeremy’s offer had been a true one—it would just be me and the guys I always hung out with, nothing more complicated than that. “Mia! Hey guys, our mascot came back to us!” someone joked that they were going to start raiding and searching the other frats to find me—that they were convinced that one of the other groups had abducted me to ransom me back to Phi Kappa, or something like that.

  Someone put a beer in my hands and the shit-talking got started almost immediately; everyone was making bets on teams, on individual players, on points and conversions, and I was in the thick of it like I had always been before, laughing and starting to relax.

  I hadn’t completely realized just how tense I’d been, just how on edge, until I started to relax. Someone got me another beer and the game started. None of us had a vested interest in either of the teams—no one was a fan—but a game was a game, and just as Jeremy had promised, this one was a total shit-show. I was screaming at the TV right along with them, laughing as the jokes flew back and forth, as everyone got into it. It was so good to be back around the guys I’d been hanging out with so much until things had gotten so weird and screwed up between me and Jaxon.

  For the first time in weeks, I was able to completely forget about Jaxon—about him being my stepbrother, about having sex with him. I was surprised at how easy it was; after all, we’d had sex on the same couch I was sitting in the middle of. But I didn’t even really think about it at all. I was so involved in the game, so wrapped up in talking to the guys and having a good time that it didn’t even matter to me what was going on. The best part of all of it was that no one mentioned Jaxon. Everyone either didn’t know or didn’t care—they wanted to hang out with me because I was their friend, I was the girl who could drink with the guys, who liked to watch the game and bitch about the bad calls and make fun of the players.

  It was so much fun, and I was getting back to normal before it was even half-time. Everything was exactly the way I’d liked it, and the beer was flowing. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up wandering around campus lost and drunk—but I had to prove that I was just as capable of handling my alcohol as I had always been, and I was more than happy to prove it. Jeremy and Alex argued about which of the women on the cheer and dance teams were the hottest and I threw my vote in; Peter and I argued for a full five minutes about whether something was a foul or a throw. It was just such a relief to be back in the spot I’d occupied, with nothing changed between me and the guys. It was good to have fun, to relax and just enjoy myself without beating my brains bloody thinking about someone I couldn’t have. For a long time I didn’t even think about Jaxon at all—which surprised me when I realized it later. But it was good. It was so good that I stopped paying attention to time, and just let the warm buzz of alcohol and friendly banter wash over me and through me. I couldn’t possibly want anything more.

  Chapter Five

  I was having such a good time that I didn’t even pay attention to how late it was getting. I should have known better; I should have been at least a little aware of the fact that just because Jaxon had a late class, it didn’t mean that he would be away from the frat house all night. I should have realized that he would eventually come home and that I should be away from the frat before that happened.

  But I was so relieved to be thinking of anything but Jaxon for once that I didn’t even consider the possibility of him coming home. It was stupid, but he was a million miles away from my mind. So when he did come home finally, it hit me with a shock like someone dumping a gallon of ice water over me. I didn’t hear the door—I was busy, right next to the guys, shouting at the TV, making fun of the post-show commentary and highlights. There was no way that Jaxon knew I was hanging out either—Jeremy, knowing that there was something between Jaxon and me even if he didn’t know what, definitely wouldn’t have told Jaxon.

  “Yo, yo!” the call from the front door, shouted out right before the door closed, sent a jolt through me. For a half-second I told myself it was one of the other upperclassmen getting home from classes, greeting the throng of frat brothers hanging out in the living room—it was exactly the way that any of them greeted the rest when they walked in. But deep down, in spite of my half-second of denial, I recognized Jaxon’s voice. I knew it was him in an instant. The red Solo cup in my hand shifted—I almost dropped it. My heart was pounding in my chest long before I let myself believe who it was.

  When Jaxon walked through the hall to the entryway of the living room, any doubt I might have had vanished completely. I realized in a sudden rush that the moment he’d called out to greet whoever was hanging out, everyone around me had gone silent too. Blood flooded into my face as I looked around quickly—every guy sitting around the TV had gone completely quiet. They glanced down at their cups, a few of them glanced at Jaxon, and a few of them glanced at
me. I realized that it wasn’t just Jeremy that knew that there was something going on between Jaxon and me. My throat went tight and my mouth went dry.

  I wanted nothing more than to run out of the room. This had been a huge, huge mistake. Fuck. But I knew that if I ran away, I could say goodbye to the guys completely; I’d never be able to live down the humiliation of running out of the frat house like a total coward just because Jaxon had shown up. Jaxon’s bright eyes swept across the room and then fell on me, and the blood drained from my face before flooding it again. “Hey, Mia,” he said, smiling slightly.

  “Hey, Jaxon,” I replied, somehow managing to keep my voice normal. I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment. Everyone sitting around me suddenly decided to at least pretend to watch TV, to be interested in the post-game commentary. Someone joked that one of the commentators looked like a walking penis, everyone laughed uneasily. Someone else made a comment about how wrong the other one was about a particular call, and before I knew it, all of the guys couldn’t possibly think of anything more interesting than what was on TV.

  I knew that they were still listening, still paying attention to what was going on—the tension in the air wasn’t quite as dense as it had been before, but it still felt thick enough to cut with a knife. I looked at Jaxon; he licked his lips. “Can I talk to you for a second alone, Mia?” he asked, pitching his voice loud enough for me to hear—for anyone to hear—but not loud enough to be obvious.

  Shit. Shit. Bad idea. Bad idea. Part of my brain was sounding alarms like the chem lab was on fire; I should not be in a room alone with Jaxon. I should refuse to do it. I should just brush it off to avoid the awkwardness and stay with the guys who had invited me.

  But at the same time, I knew it would come to this eventually. We’d absolutely have to deal with each other, one way or another, at some point. I’d been avoiding Jaxon for days and days, and the snowboarding practice had thrown me—in a big way—but I couldn’t honestly tell myself that I could just avoid him for the rest of my life and never be in a room alone with him. After all, our parents were married; even if we could avoid each other on campus, there was no way to never be involved in each other’s lives again. There was winter break, there was spring break, and there would be years and years of more times where we’d have to manage to be around each other.