Chapter 4
4
NIKKO
T he next morning, I woke to an empty bed.
Hannah was gone.
I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I sat up and stretched. I hadn’t expected that from someone like her—a good girl with big eyes and a laugh that had done things to my chest I didn’t want to think too hard about.
But I didn’t mind. In fact, it spared me the awkward Uber call and the polite-but-firm get-out-of-my-place conversation. Not that I usually let women stay over, but something about her energy had felt different. Like she wasn’t the clingy sort who would wake up and decide she wanted to move in with me.
“Guess I dodged that bullet,” I muttered, padding barefoot to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water, thinking about how her laugh had lingered in the air last night. I could almost hear it. Shaking it off, I put the glass down and decided a workout would clear my mind.
I didn’t have a bunch of expensive equipment. I didn’t need it and I sure as hell wasn’t a gym guy. People saw me and shied away. They looked at my tattoos and automatically assumed I was an ax murderer or dangerous person. That was okay. I leaned into the image my body projected. It kept me unapproachable.
I put on my sneakers and pulled on a pair of shorts before heading out to my garage. My bike was parked on one side and my basic equipment, all secondhand that had seen better days, was on the other. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A heavyweight punching bag hung from a rusty chain in the corner, its surface scarred and worn from years of fists and sweat. I started with some stretches before moving into a more serious routine, the kind designed to stop myself from thinking too hard.
As I wrapped my hands, I couldn’t shake the image of Hannah’s wide eyes, full of surprise and something wilder. Throwing punches at the bag, each hit was a little harder than necessary. My thoughts kept returning to her. It was possible, if I was being totally honest with myself, I wished she had been in bed this morning. I didn’t know how long she was in town for, but if I had her number, I could give her a call.
I wouldn’t turn down a second round with her.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that last night wasn’t just another notch on the bedpost. There was something about Hannah that had gotten under my skin. Maybe it was the way she moved, or how she seemed equally surprised and thrilled by her own body’s response. Whatever it was, it lingered in my mind like a sexy ghost.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge her image, and focused back on my workout. The punching bag swayed with each hit. As much as I tried to focus on the physical exertion, my thoughts betrayed me. Last night had gone by too fast. Her body deserved so much more attention. I could have taken her to the stars over and over.
I finished with the bag and moved to my weight bench. If I had more time, I would have gone for a run. Unfortunately, duty called. The weights would have to be enough.
An hour and a half later, freshly showered and still slightly buzzed from the memory of Hannah’s smile, I walked into the tattoo shop. The smell of ink and disinfectant mixed with the salty breeze drifting in through the propped-open door. Diego was already there, leaning against the counter with a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Jessie, my sharp-tongued apprentice, was setting up her station, earbuds in and bobbing her head to whatever pop-punk anthem was fueling her morning.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Diego said, raising an eyebrow as I strolled in.
“Morning, sunshine,” I replied.
“You’re late,” Jessie said without looking up, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Let me guess, wild night?”
“You have no idea.” I started the process of organizing my station. “Met the hottest chick I’ve ever seen. Brought her back to my place. It was…” I let out a low whistle. “Let’s just say I’m going to be thinking about her for the next two weeks. And I know she’s going to be thinking about me a whole lot longer.”
Diego laughed. “Two weeks? Damn, she must’ve been something else.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re a walking cliché, Nikko. You talk a big game, but deep down, you’re just throwing yourself at women you know won’t stick around so you don’t have to actually deal with your feelings. Am I close?”
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “When did you become a psychiatrist?”
“She’s not wrong,” Diego said, hiding a grin behind his coffee cup.
I rolled my eyes. “Now we’ve got Sigmund fucking Freud over here.”
“I’m just saying, you do have a type, man.” He shrugged.
“Type? What type?” I asked. “I don’t have a type.”
“Hot, emotionally unavailable, and gone by morning,” Jessie said, counting off on her fingers. “It’s practically your brand. You’re not a picky man beyond that. I believe you are a lover of all women, which is kind of sweet when you think about it.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t like to limit myself. I like variety.”
“Yes, as long as they won’t make you call them the next day,” Jessie said. “You don’t want to do the dating thing and conversation. You know, the part where you actually get to know someone. The part that requires real intimacy.”
“Back off, will you? Maybe you should go study to be a therapist instead of a tattoo artist if you’re so determined to stick your nose in other people’s business.” I shook my head.
Jessie shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe I will. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with your moody ass there.”
“Since when did apprentices get so mouthy?” I asked, looking at Diego. “She does know we can kick her ass out of here, right?”
“I’m not kicking her out,” Diego said with a shrug. “Plus she’s got a point.”
Before I could retort, the shop door swung open with a dramatic bang . In strode Samantha, my ex-girlfriend, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her dark eyes were blazing, and her jaw was set in a way that promised this wasn’t going to be a friendly visit.
There was a reason she was my ex. And she was very much a reason why I had zero intention of ever getting involved with another woman. Samantha had been out of my life for a while, but she was the kind of thing that didn’t just get forgotten. Like a scar. Always there as an ugly reminder of some horrible accident or mistake. Samantha was the latter.
“Speaking of needing a therapist…” Jessie muttered under her breath, retreating to her station with a smirk.
“Samantha.” I wiped down my tattoo chair with alcohol. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Don’t,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “We need to talk.”
“Sure,” I said, gesturing to my chair. “Have a seat.”
“I’ll stand,” she said, her tone cold enough to frost the air. “I just found out you hooked up with one of my friends.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“It was after we broke up.”
“Doesn’t make it any less shitty,” she said, her voice rising. “Do you ever think about anyone but yourself? ”
“Not really,” I said, deadpan. “But thanks for asking.”
“Why her? Why Jenna? You could fuck anyone else but you chose my friend.” Samantha’s eyes narrowed. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.
Jessie and Diego were doing a shitty job of pretending not to be hanging on every word.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Jenna’s a big girl. She makes her own decisions. And last I checked, so do I.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Samantha hissed, stepping closer until there were only inches between us. Her scent—something floral mixed with anger—was overwhelmingly familiar. It triggered something akin to a fight or flight response. Since I wasn’t into hitting women, I stepped back.
“I never claimed to be a saint,” I replied, holding her gaze. “Besides, you and Jenna weren’t exactly best friends.”
“That’s irrelevant,” Samantha shot back, her voice filled with anger. “It’s about respect, Nikko. Something you’ve never had much of.”
I kept my expression indifferent. “Respect is earned, Samantha. And from what I remember, you weren’t exactly handing it out freely toward the end.”
“That’s because you never gave me a reason to,” she retorted sharply.
“Well then I guess you should break up with me. Oh wait. That already happened. So why the fuck are you even here?”
Samantha’s eyes narrowed and she took a step closer. “You’re an ass, you know that? I never want to see you again.”
“Newsflash, you’re in my business,” I said. “I didn’t come looking for you. If I never see you again, it’s too soon.”
“You’d better come get the rest of your crap from my place by the end of the week.” She spun on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind her.
Jessie snickered from her station. “And that is karma, my friend.”
“Kick rocks, Jess,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I didn’t do anything to deserve her. ”
Diego whistled low. “Man, she’s still pissed, huh?”
“I don’t know why.” I grabbed my sketchbook, heading to my station. “That relationship is dead and buried. I’m not worried about her.” The knot in my stomach suggested otherwise but I didn’t want to let on. “She’s just pissed because she can’t have me.”
Jess made a gagging sound. “So humble,” she retorted, still smirking. “You might wanna lay low for a while, though. She looks like she could burn this place down with that glare.”
I laughed it off, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she continued to come back. The relationship was over but it seemed she wasn’t done punishing me for not being the man she’d hoped I was. She wasn’t the woman I thought she was either, but I wasn’t about to hassle her about it. I broke things off and cut ties, like an adult. She was the one who couldn’t move on.
“Maybe you’ve got yourself a stalker,” Diego said.
I glared at him. “Not funny, man.”
“Who’s joking?” Diego raised his eyebrows earnestly. “You know how she gets. Plus, all that drama isn’t good for business.”
Jessie leaned against her station, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Honestly, it might not hurt to actually take some precautions, Nikko. She looks like she could start World War III if she wanted to. Maybe be nice instead of poking the bear. Or bitch. Whatever.”
I focused on my sketchbook, drawing lines that were sharper and more aggressive than usual.
“Are you going to get your stuff?” Diego asked.
“I don’t know what she has,” I said.
“It’s a trap,” Jessie said. “That’s what girls do. She’s going to get you to her apartment and seduce you.”
I narrowed my eyes and wrinkled my nose. “Fuck that.”
“We all know you can’t resist a pretty face.” Jessie laughed. “Even if you can’t stand her, you’ll fuck her.”
“I will not,” I said. “Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson.”