13. Chapter Thirteen
Maya
M oving back home after four years in the dorms was awful. Every day I was home I struggled to get along with my mother. My father, as usual, was mostly silent, but why would he ever speak up for me when my mother berated me every moment of the day.
I was used to living on my own, not having to account for my whereabouts, being spontaneous and carefree when I wanted, and knowing when I needed to bust my ass to finish homework. I was twenty-two years old, not a damn child—but according to my mother, I couldn’t even wipe my own ass.
It was bad enough that my parents didn’t come to my graduation, but living with them since then, was wearing on my nerves.
In the week I had off between school and starting my new job, I had barely dumped my things in the bedroom I had claimed, when my parents had moved into this new house.
They had moved out of my childhood home in Creekton, and moved into this newer house in Mourningside while I was away.
The bedroom still had the random band posters hanging on the walls that I had hung up one summer while I’d been home from school.
In the end, it was just a room for my belongings until I could move out.
Instead of being stuck at my parents’ house during my week off, I spent days catching up with old friends and even spent a whole day with one of my oldest friends, Slade Cooper, getting every damn tattoo I’d wanted while I was away at school.
After Slade had pierced my belly button, I had relaxed back in a tattoo chair for the remainder of the day. Slade tatted me in between her other scheduled appointments. We chatted and caught up on everything that had happened since the last time we saw each other, the summer before.
“Girl, same old shit really,” Slade grinned, her bright green eyes dancing in the sunshine. She had black hair down to her waist the last time I saw her, but was now cut short and choppy around her face.
Slade and I had been neighbors growing up in Creekton.
While Slade was four years younger than me, that hadn’t stopped our friendship.
She was like the little sister I never had, and just tagged along with me and Jenna or my friends where ever we went.
At eighteen, Slade had graduated high school the year before—graduating just before her father had succumbed to his lung cancer.
Slade now ran her dad's tattoo parlor, Skin of a Different Breed, all by herself. She employed a handful of workers and had a steady stream of clientele. Slade had a good head on her shoulders and I was proud of her. “How’s modeling going?”
Slade laughed whole heartedly. “A totally different world. Oh man.” She shook her head.
“It’s fun at times. The money is great, but that world is not my world.
I don’t need all the glitz and glamor, and those chicks don’t eat anything all day, then drink and do drugs at night.
” She shook her head again, her smile dimming.
“It’s not really my scene, you know? You can get lost in that life. ”
Once again, I was reminded that my friend was an old soul and our age difference didn’t matter. “That’s good you know that. So many people get swept up in the glitz and glamor, especially when they come from small towns.”
“Creekton is a lot of things, but we didn’t grow up in the bad areas. We saw it, but our home lives were decent enough.” Slade sighed.
I smiled sadly. “Have you talked to your mom in a while?”
Shaking her head, Slade grumbled. “Not since the funeral. She sent a wedding invite to some new guy she’s with in Florida, but I’m not interested.”
I winced, “That’s rough girl. ”
Slade shrugged a shoulder and bent back over my side, continuing her work on a large butterfly piece that spread from boob to hip on my right side—the wings curling around my front and back with bright multi-color designs interlaid.
Slade was working it free hand as we spoke, bringing a gorgeous masterpiece to life.
I was lounged back in the tattoo chair in my bra and panties, to give Slade the room to work without clothes getting in the way.
Thankfully Slade had adjusted the air conditioning, so I wasn’t freezing my ass off.
Comfortable and alone in the shop with one of my oldest friends, I hadn’t minded when Slade only moved the privacy curtain to our view of the door.
Wednesdays at the shop were slow, Slade had said, until the evenings—that’s when things picked up. It had been just the two of us throughout the day, until she had the occasional customer, but her staff and appointments didn’t start until that evening, when most people got off of work.
The door chimed, signaling a walk in, before a familiar male voice called out. “Yo Slade, you here?”
“Give me a minute,” Slade called back as she was finishing a line she was shading.
“Yeah, no problem,” he replied.
“Nico?” I asked.
“Little Dreamer, that you?” Nico walked around the curtain and grinned broadly. Dressed in his Devil’s Psycho’s cut, with a white T-shirt and blue jeans, he looked hot as hell. His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his blue eyes shone in the sunlight. “Hot damn, pretty lady.”
I giggled and reached a hand out to him.
“You guys know each other?” Slade asked, a cheeky grin on her lips as she looked up from her work.
“Something like that,” I murmured, before Nico took my hand in his and bent over to give me a kiss on the lips.
“She’s ours.” Nico told Slade as he pulled away from the kiss. He kept his fingers laced with mine and grabbed a rolling stool from the next tattoo station, taking a seat next me.
“Whaaa?” Slade looked up from her work, dumbfounded. “Bitch, you didn’t say shit! All fucking day!”
I blushed immediately. “It’s new… it’s—I don’t even know how to describe it.”
Nico chuckled. “You’re cute, Little Dreamer. It is new, I’ll give you that. But you came home with us, and you agreed, you’re ours.”
“As in Jason’s and Marcos’s, as well?” Slade raised an eyebrow, smirking.
I blushed scarlet red, covering my face with my free hand, while trying to drop Nico’s hand.
“Yep,” Nico said, popping the p for emphasis.
“Hot damn, Maya!” Slade grinned.
I shrugged, rolling my eyes. “They grow on you… like mold.”
Nico laughed deeply and squeezed my hand .
“Well, good for you! And Nico, I’ll kick your fucking ass and never tatt all three of you again if you hurt my girl here. She’s my sister from another mister.”
Nico’s laughter ceased immediately as a look of horror passed over his face. “What the fuck?”
“You heard her.” I smirked up at him.
“I—you don’t have to worry about that with us, babe.” His eyes were so earnest as he spoke. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
My heart pounded in my chest and butterflies erupted in my belly. God damn, I was so fucked .
“Whatcha here for, Nic?” Slade asked, changing the subject and returning to her work.
She was only doing the black outlining on the butterfly today.
I would have to come back for multiple sessions to finish the coloring and shading, but it already looked amazing.
Paired with the two other smaller tattoos Slade had done earlier that morning—I had finally put a dent into the list of tattoos I had wanted done.
“Was going to see if you had free time to work more on my back,” Nico said.
Slade glanced up at a clock on the wall and shook her head. “Sorry, dude. I’ve got an appointment at five.”
I looked up, it’s already a quarter to five? “Damn.”
Slade laughed. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“How long you’ve been here, Little Dreamer?” Nico asked .
“All day.” I laughed.
“We got breakfast at like eight?” Slade said. “Then we came here. Couple tattoos, a new piercing, and voilà! My girl is even hotter than before!”
Nico’s grin turned wicked. “I’d say.”
I rolled my eyes, despite the blush coloring my cheeks again.
“And you’ve got an appointment, Slade. Sounds like I came just in time to take Maya out to dinner.”
The buzzing of the tattoo gun stopped and Slade put down her gun.
The next few moments Slade slathered my tattoo with ointment before she dressed and wrapped it.
Then I carefully pulled on my jean shorts and tank top.
My shorts, once buckled, cut in a little too tight around my new butterfly tatt, irritating things, so I unbuttoned the jeans, and arranged my flowy tank top over it, so it wasn’t noticeable.
Nico’s blue eyes were dark, as he watched me dress. “Fucking hot, Little Dreamer.”
I smiled coyly up at him. “You’re taking me to dinner?”
He nodded and stalked around the tattoo chair, coming for me. I held my ground and waited, smile still on my face as I tilted my chin up. His finger traced down the side of my jaw, before he hooked it under my chin and pulled me closer. His kiss was slow and sensual, gentle.
I moaned when he pulled away, cutting the kiss entirely too short .
“No sex in my shop,” Slade called from the back room.
“We won’t,” I called back. “What do I owe you for today?”
“Dinner!” Slade yelled.
“That’s it?”
“Yep! Double cheeseburger with bacon and extra cheese from Jimmy’s.” Slade lowered her voice as she moved closer.
Nico and I walked around the curtained off area and met Slade near the cash register. “Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting to take advantage of my friend.
“Absolutely, girl! I already ordered it; you just need to pick it up and pay. Then bring it to me. My next appointment is only forty-five minutes, but my six o’clock is four hours long. I won’t have time to eat.”
“Shit girl,” I shook her head. “We should have stopped hours ago.”
Slade grinned. “We were having fun. Plus, I missed you.” Slade leaned and hugged me tight. “Today was on the house. The rest, you pay for.”
“Alright,” I nodded. “Come on, pretty boy. Let’s go pick up her dinner.”