“You could say that for a lot more than just last night.”
“A fucking tattoo though? Really, Shel? I could have met your boyfriend or your kid… but a tattoo…”
It was sort of cute, sexy, that he was so broken up about a tattoo.
I fought away the thoughts.
“It could have been worse,” I whispered.
“How so?”
“She’s still on your breath and skin, Axel,” I said. “I can smell it. Not that it’s my business. But how many times did you take off before…”
Axel’s lip curled again.
His nerves were too easy to get to right now. But I didn’t care. If this was what needed to happen, then so be it. We could go at each other as a divorced couple and find a way to be done for the rest of our lives.
Axel lifted his hand and slowly opened the fist he’ made. I watched like it were in slow motion as he reached for my face and gently cupped it.
His head moved from side to side.
There was a sense of rawness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in years. So much so that it stole my breath.
“Shel, I can promise you… I may have taken off before, but I always came back. And I was always an honest man to you. There are a lot of shitty things I could take the heat for, but touching another woman when I was with you… never. That, I can take to my grave knowing the truth of.”
“And everything else?” I asked, barley mustering up the words.
“Everything else is a fucking blur,” he said. His thumb stroked my cheek.
He lowered his head a little.
I leaned toward him, letting my head touch his.
We were in dead silence.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
I stopped counting after twenty.
My heart raced as fast as I could ever remember it doing.
Through blurry eyes, I looked down at my ankle and reminded myself why I came here.
I took a shaky breath and touched Axel’s hand.
“Axel…”
“I know,” he said. He cleared his throat and quickly turned his head. “So… as you were saying…”
“Axel, look at me,” I said.
He actually listened to me, which surprised me.
And when he looked at me, I saw something again that I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Tears in his eyes.
It stole my breath and rattled the words out of my brain.
At least Axel wasn’t tongue tied.
“So, Shel… the tattoo… you said you were drunk… what happened next?”
Twelve
*PRESENT DAY*
AXEL
1.
Why does she still look as beautiful as the day I met her? When she was wearing that blue dress with the white flowers… and the flowers at the bottom were all dirty because she was such a tomboy and always just sat down on the sidewalk or in the dirt. And I was only twelve years old, just figuring out that girls could look pretty and that they turned into women - according to the magazines I found under my old man’s bed. And I stood there across the street and just stared at her, not any idea what the fuck my body was feeling.
And now, years later, sitting there, staring at the ugliest fucking attempt at a butterfly tattoo I’d ever seen, I felt the same goddamn way. I felt like my balls were twisted and slammed up into my stomach, and my stomach was pushing against my heart, and my heart was doing everything it could to make my mind move faster and flip through every fucking moment with Shelby in my fucking life.
She’d taken up more than half my life. But the power of time was supposed to fix that. Eventually, time would catch up and I’d have lived longer without her than with her.
But one look at her face… one touch of her cheek…
Goddammit.
I couldn’t believe that I’d almost let myself lose it in front of her.
I needed a drink.
I really stiff drink.
No, fuck that, I needed the whole bottle.
A dark room and a bottle of whiskey.
That would cure anything inside me that wanted to come out and be real.
My hands were twitching, fighting off an old habit of just touching Shelby whenever I wanted, how I wanted. Meaning as I sat there, I wanted to touch her bare legs. She was much shorter than me, but goddamn did she have long legs. Those legs seemed like they went for miles and miles. Her shorts were really short. Short enough that I could see the whites of her pockets poking out. We lived in a life where if you wanted shorts, you cut your jeans. And that’s what she’d done here. Except she wasn’t some poor and dirty-looking young girl anymore. She was a fucking woman, and she pulled off the homemade shorts look in a way that my eyes couldn’t stop staring.
“Yeah, so I was drunk,” Shelby said.
I laughed. “You have three sides when you’re drunk.”
“Oh, do I?”
“Come on, Shel, you know you do. We used to call you different names. There was… Sarah. There was Shelly. And there was… I can’t remember the third name.”
Shelby rolled her eyes. “You were all mean to me.”
“You couldn’t hold your liquor.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said with a grin.
That grin… the one-and-half dimples on her right cheek… the very tiny, mostly unseen freckle right next to her nose…
I looked at the ugly tattoo on her ankle.
I touched her leg and saw her skin tighten and prickle.
My touch still worked, huh?
“This is just terrible,” I said. “I’m not just saying that because it pisses me off.”
“Or makes you jealous.”
I eyed Shelby.
You want to do the jealousy thing, love? How about I tell you what Lauren… Lisa… L… whoever she was… how about I tell you what she did to me in the early morning hours? Not that I could remember anything… but I could guess.
“Sorry,” she said. “Okay. It was a little while after we… you know.”
“Got divorced,” I said. “Just say it, Shel. We can’t beat around the bush on things.”
“Sure. After we got divorced. Stacy and Den wanted to take me out to cheer me up.”
“Oh, don’t tell me Den has something to do with this.”
“No,” Shelby said. “I went out with them, but only had a couple of drinks. They were all over each other and I was a third wheel. So I left and caught sight of a corner bar. It was busy and I wanted to be distracted. I wanted to be in a crowd. I wanted to be around people. The noise would help my mind to not think anything.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you wanted noise. So what were you thinking about that made you want noise?”
“You,” Shelby said without hesitation. “You, Axel.”
“Right. What about me?”
“Do you want to know the story or not? You’re wasting your last day at St. Skin.”
“Good point. So you went to another bar.”
“Yes,” she said. “And I started to drink.”
“Someone was buying you drinks?”
“Maybe.”
I nodded. Okay, fine, jealousy. Fucking petty jealousy. Some asshole slipping her doubles of vodka because she was still processing everything that had happened, including the divorce. My wife… my ex-wife… with some asshole looking for a quick score…
Then again, wasn’t I that same asshole? Didn’t I do the same thing the night before to some woman?
“I knew I was drinking too much,” Shelby said. “But I knew when to stop. I paid what I owed, at least what I thought I owed, and I left. I started walking alone.”
“At night?” I asked. “Drunk?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you not approve?”
I gritted my teeth as she took her jabs at my heart. But I wasn’t going to cover my heart up. Whatever she had to give, I deserved.
“Go on,”
I said. “I’ll keep my mouth shut now.”
“Can I get that in writing?” she asked.
I didn’t respond. That joke was getting old to me. Anything Shelby wanted from me in writing, she had already got.
“I found a tattoo shop,” she said. “And it just felt right. It was sort of like a fuck you to you, Axel. Okay? That’s the truth. I regret it more than I can explain. But that’s what happened. I walked in and this skinny, little bald guy asked what I wanted. The first thing that came to mind was a butterfly on my ankle.”
“At least you didn’t tell him you wanted a back piece, right?” I asked.
“True. It could have been much worse. He did the tattoo… and I hated it. The next morning, I had a pounding headache and an ugly butterfly.”
“And here you are to get it fixed,” I said.
“Yes. So can you fix it?”
“Eh, I can try,” I said.
“Do I get a say in what I want it to be?” she asked.
I pushed back and slid across the floor. “I’m going to make it look good, Shel. I promise. You’re going to look at it and be happy.”
“It’ll make me think of you though,” she said.
“And that ugly butterfly doesn’t?”
“Touché,” she whispered.
I smiled.
The tension that had been in the room a few minutes ago was gone. I had no urge to argue with her. I had no urge to dig into old scars and make them bleed again.
For the first time in longer than I could possibly remember, it was just us now. Not the married couple. Not that wildly in love couple. Not the ones breaking the rules and carving a future out of rebellion.
It was just us.
Shelby and Axel…
2.
My left hand pressed against her shin. I gently moved her ankle back and forth to where I needed it. It was no lie that for the first few minutes of the tattoo, Shelby had me almost flustered. Now, getting flustered during a tattoo was not my thing. When it came to tattooing, this was about focus and about art. About giving the person what they wanted. And throughout my years, there was not a spot on a woman I hadn’t tattooed. From topless to no panties, I had done it all. And not once did it make me feel as it did for those first few minutes as I touched and inked Shelby’s ankle.
The butterfly had been done flat and sloppy. The ink had run and it worked to my benefit because covering it up was pretty easy. It just took some creative coloring and shading, which I did by making a bouquet of flowers on her ankle. It was much bigger than the original butterfly, but I made it so that the flowers were messy, but in a good way. Roses, lilies, baby’s breath, all of Shelby’s favorite flowers, put together in this colorful creation. My favorite parts were the stems. I kept them accurate, some thin, some thick, the thorns for the roses, giving the tattoo a little bit of an edgy look to it.
Because that’s what Shelby was to me.
Beautiful and edgy.
When I finally finished, I wiped the tattoo one last time. Her skin around it was bright red from taking the punishment, but it was well worth it. Hell, getting her ankle inked, going up her leg and down to her foot took some serious pain tolerance.
Never once did Shelby fail to amaze me by something she did or said.
“Okay,” I said. “I think we’re good.”
“I can look now?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
She put her hands to the chair and leaned forward, biting her bottom lip.
Holy fuck, she was stunning. There were new curves on her body, ones that I shouldn’t have been looking at. Her shirt pulled against her chest, a familiar place for my hands or the tip of my tongue to tease and draw pictures that nobody would ever see.
“Axel,” she said, her voice almost purring.
“Yeah?”
She looked at me. Her eyes suddenly glossed over.
“Shel?” I asked.
“It’s perfect,” she said, her voice whispering.
“Yeah?”
“You remembered all my favorite flowers,” she said.
Our eyes locked.
I quickly stood up and went to find everything I needed to bandage up the tattoo.
My throat closed as my heart squeezed too damn hard.
Of course I remember your favorite fucking flowers. How could I forget? Do you know how many times I’d gone into a flower shop and chosen them to make a bouquet of your favorites?
“This is amazing,” she said. “Honestly.”
I took a deep breath. “Well, that’s one way to go out of here, huh? Out on top.”
“Are you really fired?”
“How many times are you going to ask that?”
“I don’t know. Sorry.”
I patched Shelby up and gave her ointment to put on the tattoo to help it heal.
“If you have any questions, you know where to find me,” I said.
“Actually, I don’t,” Shelby said as she stood up. “This is the only place where I can find you.”
“Try Little Mikey’s then.”
“No. I’m not going to walk in on you picking up some one-night thing.”
Another shot to my heart.
Shelby tried to slip by, but my hand shot out. My hand touched her hip, fitting as perfectly as it always used to do. I pulled her right back in front of me and looked down at her.
“That’s not what you think,” I said.
“Oh? What is it then?”
“It kills time and pain, Shel. And I would never do that in front of you.”
“Why not? We’re not together. Who cares?”
Who cares? Yeah. Fuck it. Who fucking cares…
I nodded. “You have my number if anything happens with the tattoo.”
“How much do I owe?”
“Nothing.”
“No way. I’m not getting this for free.”
“I’m already fired. What the fuck else can Tate do to me?”
She smiled.
Such a pretty smile.
“You were always a rebel, Axel.”
“I still am.”
“Giving away free tattoos. You bad, bad guy.”
“Not that, Shel.”
“Oh?”
My hand eased around to the small of her back. I pulled and her body collided with mine. Her hands shot up and touched my chest. She didn’t push me away though.
I inched down, my lips drawing closer to hers.
The tips of our noses touched and I stopped.
“Old habits,” I whispered.
“They’re the worst,” she whispered back.
That was Shelby’s moment to back away. To push me away. To slap me. Punch me. Yell at me.
But she didn’t.
And off the cliff I went, my lips brushing against hers.
3.
I looked around the room and shook my head.
All my shit was finally packed. And how fitting that Shelby was my last tattoo done at St. Skin.
I licked my lips, wishing I’d kissed her harder so that I could still taste her. I could have put her up against the wall and made her fucking forget about any man that had been given the privilege of touching her since me.
But the kiss was damn near nothing.
As fast as my lips brushed against Shelby’s lips, they were gone.
Because of me.
I was the one who backed away from her.
Because I knew what my heart and mind wanted.
Shelby reached up and touched my face.
She looked as confused as anything. Half blushing, half going pale, fully unsure of what had just happened.
She threw a quick excuse at me that she had to leave and I caught it and nodded, letting her slip away.
Which was the right thing to do. Emotions were starting to boil, the past flirting with the present, and the future being so uncertain for both of us that it was comforting to want to jump back in time to a place where we knew everything.
I opened the door an
d stepped out of my room, nodding at the mix of music and sound in the shop. That part I would miss. Shit, I would miss everything. Even Prick.
I sidestepped and went out the back door to catch my breath before saying goodbye and walking my ass to my truck and leaving for good. See, the plan had been right there in front of me. I got fired. So I pack my shit and I leave. I leave Hundred Falls Valley. I disappear.
But now Shelby fucked that up.
I didn’t want to leave town because of her. She could say anything she wanted in front of me, but I knew something was eating at her. When she got mean and clingy and emotional and all that fun shit, that meant something was wrong. Maybe it was Stacy and Den. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was something else. But for days now, she had been casually trying to find a way to come to me… even if she didn’t say anything.
Before the back door to St. Skin could swing shut, I saw Tate standing with one foot up against the building.
Nobody else was around.
Fuck.
There were a few moments of silence, and I wasn’t going to be the one to break it.
“Want a smoke?” Tate asked.
“Seriously, you know how I feel about that shit.,” I said. “Don’t start on me. I’m just taking a minute before I go inside and say goodbye.”
“Right. The big goodbye.”
“Yup.”
Tate pushed away from the building. “What’s the plan now?”
“That’s none of your damn business, is it?”
“I guess not,” he said. He nodded. “How about that. I cut you out and I don’t have to give a shit. No more worries.”
“Exactly,” I said. “The power of firing someone.”
“It’s like a divorce,” Tate said.
His face dropped as he said it.
He knew what he was doing. He knew what he was saying. And he knew what he wanted me to do next.
There was nobody else around us though, which was dangerous.
Because after throwing the first punch, I wasn’t going to stop until I threw the last one.
4.
Tate threw me against the building. It felt like every rib exploded into a million pieces. I couldn’t breathe for a split second, but that didn’t stop me from swinging at him again. I missed by a mile and we ended up grabbing each other. We were beaten up and out of breath. I felt like my jaw was two inches to the right. My left eye stung from sweat and blood. My nose was swollen like I had a bad head cold.
Nothing Lasts Forever Page 11
