Where Good Girls Go To Die (Good Girls #1)

I leaned in another inch, her breath warm against my lips, but before I could close the gap, she slipped out from beneath me and handed the paper to the DJ.

Her eyes were clouded over, but she looked so damn happy, I couldn’t even be mad at her for escaping me.

“You’re right, Parker.” She had her hand on her hip. “Life isn’t fair. You better get ready to sing because it’s show time.” Her grin stretched so far across her face that her dimples popped out, and I wanted nothing more than to trace them with my tongue.

I opened my mouth to tell her there was no way in hell that I was getting on that stage, but I was interrupted by the DJ announcing our duet over the speakers.

I groaned and ran my hand down my face.

I didn’t climb on the stage because I wanted to. I climbed on the stage because she was covering her mouth to stifle her laugh, and I wanted to be the one to put that look on her face every day.

I would give anything.

I was expecting her to have picked some sappy song to embarrass the hell of me, but it wasn’t Livy’s style. Instead, “Closer” by The Chainsmokers started playing through the speakers as she shoved a microphone in my hand.

“I don’t know all the words,” I whispered in her ear.

“They come up across the screen.” She pointed to the little monitor in front of us, and I knew there was no way I was getting out of it.

So, I sang, and the more Livy got into it, so did I. She danced around the stage, singing the words without even glancing at the screen, and I watched her.

There was a small bead of sweat on the back of her neck that ran down her skin until it pooled against her shirt. She was on fire. Completely in her element, singing her heart out, and having a blast.

By the time we got off the stage, the bar was cheering, Livy was laughing, and I was falling so hard that I couldn’t see straight.





L I V





Present



I loved my job. Granted, I had only worked here for three days so far, but it was an awesome three days.

Brandon was quite possibly one of the funniest people I had ever met, Parker was keeping his distance, and I had a major girl crush on Staci.

Staci was the only other tattoo artist in the shop, and she was by far the coolest chick I knew. Her hair was jet black and stick straight, and her creamy white skin was covered in bright, colorful tattoos.

She booked appointments nonstop, they all did actually, but she had a male clientele that didn’t stop, and I couldn’t blame them. She was gorgeous.

“You know it’s sacrilegious to work in a tattoo shop and not have a tattoo, right?” She was sitting next to me behind the desk, thumbing through a magazine while waiting for her next appointment to show.

“It is not.” I rolled my eyes. “It may be bad for business, but it’s not sacrilegious.”

“Why don’t you get one?” She set down her magazine and started looking over my skin as if she was looking for the perfect spot.

“I want to.” I added another appointment into Parker’s schedule. “It just makes me nervous.”

Staci laughed, in a full on unattractive snort-laugh that made me like her more.

“Don’t be a pussy, Liv.”

“I am not being a pussy,” I said the last word quietly which only made her laugh louder.

“What would you get?” She started looking around the walls at the artwork that was featured there for customers to choose from, but what I wanted wasn’t on those walls. It was in a portfolio under my desk.

I had looked at the drawing every single day that I had worked there, and every single day, I wanted it more and more.

“I wouldn’t get anything on the wall.”

Staci looked at me like I was a bit crazy and maybe I was. I pulled the portfolio out and pointed to the drawing that I couldn’t quit thinking about.

Wild at heart.

Staci whistled when she saw the drawing I was talking about before she put her feet up on the desk. “Good luck with that one.”

“Why?” Typically if a client had requested a tattoo, it was pulled out of the portfolio. I didn’t see anything that stated someone had claimed it.

“Because I’ve seen about a hundred people ask for that tattoo and the answer is always the same.”

“Which is?”

“Nope.” She clapped her hands theatrically, startling me a bit.

“Why?” I looked back down at the drawing. It was easily one of the best pieces of art I had ever seen.

“Because Parker won’t let go of it. Someone always asks and he always says no.”

“Well couldn’t you tattoo it on me?” I batted my eyelashes at her, and she rolled hers.

“That,” she pointed to my face, “doesn’t work on me, and no, I can’t. It’s Parker’s work. Only Parker can do it.”

I thought about her words before sliding the drawing back in place. I loved it. Absolutely loved it, but there was no way in hell I was letting Parker tattoo me. It wasn’t happening.

“Well then what good are you?” I teased, putting the portfolio back under the desk.

Staci’s eyes lit up and the grin that took over her face scared me a bit.

“What is that look for?” I motioned toward her face as she had mine only moments before.

“How much time do we have before my next appointment?”

I looked at the appointment book. “Twenty minutes or so, why?”

“We should pierce something.” She said it like most people don’t take a day or two to think these things out. There was no hesitation or doubt.

“What?” I screeched.

“I already told you not to be a pussy, Liv. Let’s do it!” She clapped her hands together like she just won the lottery, and I watched her like the crazy person she was.

“Your nose would be really cute.” She turned my face this way and that. “Or even your lip. Or we could always.” She held her hands over my chest and motioned like she was grabbing my tits.

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” I rubbed my breasts just thinking about the pain.

“Only for a minute or so, but it’s totally worth it.” She winked at me.

“Do you have yours pierced?” I whispered even though we were the only two in the shop. Brandon and Parker left about an hour ago to run a few errands.

“Of course. I also have my hood pierced, and let me just tell you, I love that baby.”

“Your vagina?” I shrieked.

“Yes. My vagina.” She patted me on my head like a puppy. “Do you ever get laid, Liv?”

Her question was innocent, but she didn’t realize how close to the truth she was because I wasn’t getting laid. Not regularly. Not even semi-regularly. She would die if she knew it had been over a year, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Instead, I just shrugged my shoulders and let her question roll off me.

She shook her head as if the thought of not getting laid made her physically ill. “Okay. Let’s start with the nipples.”

My eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Live a little.” I wasn’t one for peer pressure, but I couldn’t deny that the idea of having my nipples pierced excited me.

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