Chapter 15
Justin
I’m enjoying the music blasting from the amazing stereo system in my Beemer until I see Sam pulling out his pack of cigarettes. I hit the mute button on my steering wheel and the sound dies. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Dude,” he says. “I’m doing this for you. The least you can do is let me have a smoke.”
“Forget it.” I take an exit off the highway and start making the turns toward Dragonfly Ink. “You’re not smoking in my car.”
Sam shoves his cigarettes back in his pocket. “Fine, but I’m smoking before we go in.”
“Since when do you smoke all the frigging time?”
He shrugs. “Since when do you chase chicks?”
Ignoring him, I park just out of sight of the shop window so there’s no chance Allie will see him smoking. Strangely, I’m worried about her opinion. As soon as the bastard gets out of the car, he lights up. Like I want to stand around watching him smoke instead of seeing Allie.
“Exactly where do I want this tattoo?” he asks, pointing his cigarette at me.
I step back from the cloud of smoke he exhales. “I don’t know. Where would you get a tattoo?”
He squints while he thinks. “My other arm?”
Maybe using Sam for this surprise visit isn’t the best idea. “Then say your other arm. You’ve been killing too many brain cells lately. This doesn’t have to be scripted out, just act like you want another tattoo.”
“Man, this girl has you wound tighter than a coke fiend. You’re even stalking her undercover.”
“This isn’t stalking.” I just need to see her. Saturday is too long a wait. I have to know if this building connection between us is as deep as it feels, and seeing her is the only way to find out. I decided that hump day would be the perfect choice for a visit.
“No? We’re going in there pretending I want a tattoo.”
“You might after checking out her art.”
“Naw. I don’t like needles. The last one was a bitch to get through. Had to down half a fifth of vodka and two joints.” He tosses his cigarette butt to the sidewalk. “Probably a good thing. Keeps me from injecting anything.”
We start walking toward the shop. “Who the hell would ink you all fucked up?”
“Some dude. Works out of his house.”
“You are an idiot.”
He nods. “Must be if I agreed to this bullshit.”
“Don’t screw this up,” I warn, opening the door.
Mandy is behind the counter on the phone. We wander over to the books of photos. Sam flicks one open and feigns interest in the pictures of peoples’ tattoos. I stand next to him, scrolling through my phone.
After a few minutes, Mandy strolls over and I introduce her to Sam. She’s flirting with both of us when Allie comes out from the back with a customer. She’s looking cute, wearing pigtails and a backward baseball cap. Her eyes widen at the sight of me. I give her a grin. Her expression tightens as Mandy runs a nail along the tattoo on my left arm, but Allie doesn’t call her employee over, instead turning back to the guy with a Mohawk and leather pants. Douche.
While Mandy giggles and checks out Sam’s tattoos, I watch Allie explain after care to the customer. He’s all attention, and I’m betting it isn’t on what’s coming out of her mouth. When he leans closer to her, I’m at the counter in seconds without a thought.
“Hey,” I say, and Allie’s gray eyes flick to me. She gives me a curt nod but continues to explain how to care for a fresh tattoo. My eyes drill holes into the guy’s profile until he finally draws away from her. At least he’s a smart fucker.
“Was that necessary?” she snaps when the guy finally leaves.
“What?” I say innocently.
Her pierced brow rises. “Intimidating my customer.”
My hand spreads across my chest. “Me?”
She rolls her eyes. “So what brings you out today?”
“Sam’s considering adding some more ink.” I gesture toward the front of the shop. He’s paging through a photo book with Mandy.
“Custom?” Allie asks.
“Yeah, that’s the direction he’s thinking.” Sam isn’t thinking shit.
She glances their way again. “Well, since you’re here, can I take a picture of your back?”
My lips form a slow and deliberate smirk. “Trying to get my clothes off?”
Her balled-fist settles on a jean-clad hip. “Just your shirt.”
“Whatever you want,” I say, lifting the bottom of my shirt.
One of her hands covers mine. “Not here. Follow me out back. The light’s always best outside.”
I grab her hand and hold it tight. “Not until we’re alone, huh?”
“Yeah,” she says in a sarcastic tone, pulling her hand from my grasp. “Alone in the romantic parking lot.”
“I like your sense of adventure.”
Shaking her head, she moves toward the hallway that leads to the tattooing rooms. “Let me just grab the camera,” she says.
I wait while she ducks into a small room with a desk. She comes out holding an expensive digital camera. I hold the door open to the parking lot and we walk outside together into the bright afternoon.
“Okay,” she says, pointing to the brick wall. “Take off your shirt here and—”
“Here? It’s kind of cold and exposed. I can’t believe you want to get busy here.”
She points at the wall. “Get busy? Dream on. As for the cold, it’s over fifty degrees out. Models work half-naked in the Arctic Circle. So, tough guy, get rid of the shirt.”
Grinning, I yank my shirt off.
She lifts the camera. “Now face the wall.”
I turn around and stare at the brick. “I like it when you’re bossy. So many possibilities.”
“You are impossible,” she mutters. I hear the click of the camera several times along with a car driving past the parking lot.
“Okay, you can put your shirt back on,” she says, her voice silky smooth.
With my shirt still hanging in my hand, I turn around. “That’s it?”
Eyes sparkling, she nods. “That’s it.”
Suddenly, Mandy whips open the back door. “School just called. Your son is sick. Vomiting and the works apparently.”
Nearly dropping the camera, Allie races back into the shop while Mandy’s phrase “your son” sends shock waves through my head.
Mandy ogles my naked torso. “Did she get a picture of the front too?”
I drag my shirt over my head and stagger past her into the shop’s hallway. Allie is in the office throwing stuff into her bag.
“Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day,” she says to Mandy. “Try to reschedule them.”
I stare at her. This woman I’ve been trying to figure out for weeks now. Business owner. Tattoo artist. Student. Ex-wife. Mother? She’s like a favorite song you’re sure means one thing—until you find out the meaning is entirely different.
“You have a son?” I ask numbly, recalling how hard I’ve tried to be open and honest with her. How much I’ve dug into myself to make what’s between us real, while she’s been so obviously indifferent that she didn’t even bother telling me she had a kid. A son. How did she not share that?
Passing me in the hall, Allie nods a curt good-bye, but I grab her arm.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “I have to go.”
Her shrug pisses me off. It’s like she’s dismissing me. “Why wouldn’t you tell me about your son?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it does,” I say, and anger slips into my tone.
“I don’t owe you any explanations, Justin.”
“Explanations? Don’t use that bullshit line on me. After all the things I’ve told you, your telling me about your kid isn’t a fucking explanation, Allie.”
“Does it matter?”
“What the hell does that mean? I’m asking why you never said anything. Why wouldn’t you say something about him?” With each word my voice rises.
Though her expression is furious, she asks in a calm voice, “Who do you think you are to yell at me?”
One of the hallway doors open and Mac’s gray head appears. “What the hell is going on out here? I’m trying to work.”
“Sorry, Mac.” Her slate eyes shift to mine. “We’re leaving.” Allie tears her arm out of my grasp. “I don’t have time for this. I have to go,” she says, and bolts out the back door.
Mac glares at me over his bifocals, then shuts the door to his workspace.
I want to punch the wall. Confusion and anger flow through me. I want to race after her. I want to shake the truth out of her.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Mandy says. I look up in annoyance as I realize that she has been standing there the whole time. “She doesn’t really tell anyone about Ben. I only know because of the possibility of school calling.”
My jaw unclenches so I can say, “Didn’t know I was ‘anyone.’”