Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kash
Iwish I could say I was surprised to wake up alone, but I really wasn’t. I was hopeful Mila would be in my arms still, but I had a feeling she would take off. It would have been too easy for her to stay, and Mila has been skittish since the start. I just need to up my game.
Saturday night was the best night I’ve ever had, and Sunday was looking promising, but Mila had other ideas.
She hasn’t been home since, and it’s starting to get old.
If I wasn’t so busy trying to get the shop back together, I’d be dragging her sweet little ass back.
As it stands, we’re waiting to reopen until after Atlas and Cora’s wedding.
I’m not complaining because not only does it get me more time with Mila, but it’s also partly my fault. Bri never would have smashed up the shop if it wasn’t for our... interaction.
“I never thought she had that much rage in her,” Rhett remarks, putting supplies back into a row of storage cabinets that Bri broke and destroyed.
“I don’t think any of us did,” I admit. Bri was always a go-with-the-flow kind of girl and seemed laid back, but it changed right after we slept together.
She got mean and possessive crazy fast. I know I’m possessive of Mila, but that’s different.
My possessiveness comes from a place of pure, deep love—not a need to keep her for myself. Who am I kidding? It’s both.
“Well, I guess you learned your lesson.”
“Leave him be,” Atlas cuts in, giving me a knowing nod. His station is the most put together. He’s said multiple times he wants to be done so he can focus on his girl. Care Bear is lucky he gave her any time at all to plan something.
Rhett looks between the two of us, confusion and interest on his face. “What’s that look for? What do you know that I don’t?”
“You guys gossip more than old biddies at church on Sunday,” Seth cuts in. “Don’t you all have work to do? I already had the front window replaced. If it were up to you lot, we’d never reopen.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I’m helping.” Rhett lifts the box of supplies in his hands. “Don’t start with me. I need coffee and if you keep picking, I may punch you in the chin, Seth.”
“You want to spar, pretty boy?” Seth offers, arms outstretched. “We can go to Emma’s.”
“No!” I shout. It took me a minute to focus on their argument, but Rhett said coffee. Coffee means Twin Roasts, and Twin Roasts means a reason to see Mila. “I need coffee too.” I turn around and start looking for my keys.
“Nope, caffeine is the last thing you need.” Seth points at me. “You’re already wound up enough, and your station is almost nonexistent.” He gestures to where my chair used to sit, and the dent in the floor where Bri swung her bat. Damn it. He might be right.
“It’s fine. I’ll stay here and help Kash get his stuff together. We need to get this done sooner than later. Right, Kash?” Atlas stares back at me, daring me to disagree.
“No. It’s fine. You guys go ahead.” An idea is already forming in my mind. With them gone, I can put part two of my plan into motion. I’ve already got Mila at my apartment, sort of; now it’s time to take some permanent steps.
“Alright. We’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to grab some extra lights.” Rhett sets the box of supplies down. “I was growing tired of the ones we had anyway.”
“Sure, buddy.” Seth clasps his shoulder on the way out. “Whatever you say.”
Snickering, I watch them head out the front, straight to Seth’s car in the parking lot. I’m still waiting for mine to get finished. Even though most of the damage was cosmetic, waiting for replacement parts is a bitch. Turning toward Atlas, I find him staring at me.
“So,” I start. “I need a favor.”
“I’m not piercing your dick.”
I choke on air as I laugh at his serious facial expression. “That’s fine because I don’t want you touching my dick, thank you very much.”
“Okay. Good. What do you want?”
“Wait, why the hell would you think I wanted my dick pierced?”
Atlas shrugs. “Apparently it feels... good for other people...” He trails off.
Well shit. Now I’m kind of thinking about it. But if I do that, then I’m out of commission for six weeks. I can’t wait that long, and honestly, I don’t think Mila will either.
“I need your help.”
“I told you I’d help you put your shit back together. I want this done.”
I know he’s right. We do need to get everything back together, and before their wedding, but there’s something else more pressing.
“We will, but first, a favor.”
An hour passes before Seth and Rhett return. They at least have the decency to bring back some stuff for Atlas and me. When they walk into the shop and see me sitting in Atlas’ chair, they freeze.
“I didn’t realize we were open for business.” Seth looks between the two of us.
“We aren’t,” I agree. “But Atty boy here owed me one, and it was the perfect time to collect.”
“I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen,” Atlas deadpans as he sits at my side, machine in hand.
“Oh God, what did you do, Kash?” Rhett looks at the piece Atlas is nearly finished with. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep.” I grin broadly.
“I don’t even want to know how you got that.” He shakes his head.
“Got what?” Seth takes a step closer to look.
When he catches sight of it, he rolls his eyes. That’s okay. He acts like he doesn’t have tattoos for someone he thinks we don’t know about, but he does, and we do. Hypocrite.
“I will accept zero criticism,” I tell them, then wince a bit as Atlas digs in on one of the longer lines. Neck tattoos definitely aren’t for the weak, but that's okay. It just means everyone will be able to see how taken I am.
“I swear you’ve got a screw loose in your head. Are you sure Bri didn’t actually hit you with that bat?” Rhett jokes.
Scowling at him, I hold up my middle finger. “No. I know what I’m doing.”
Atlas remains quiet as he works. Before we started, he looked at me, then at the design, saying, “This is permanent, you know.” As if there were any issues with that. I know what I want, and Mila is it. I don’t care what anyone thinks, only her.
“So, what’s your next steps?” Rhett gestures toward me. “Get this tattoo, then go meet her parents?”
“We already met her parents, dummy,” I point out.
“Yeah, but that was just as Cora’s co-workers, not as the guy who’s trying to get in their daughter’s pants.”
Atlas stops and wipes a section of my neck. Taking that moment, I turn and level Rhett with a glare. He thinks he’s so funny. “I will beat your ass into next week if you talk about Mila like that again,” I warn.
He looks at Seth, then Atlas, looking for help, but he won’t find any from either of them. Atlas already thinks I’m crazy, and Seth keeps his opinions to himself now, mostly.
“Fine. All I’m saying is that it was one thing for Atlas to show up and take Cora; she’s not their daughter by blood. Mila is their kid, you know? And you’re a six-foot-something ladies' man with a top knot and tattoos.”
Heat curls in my gut. I hate that he’s partially right.
I know the Morgans love Cora as if she’s their own, but Mila is their daughter.
They’re definitely going to care about who she spends her time with.
I have to make them see that I’m serious about her.
When I met them at Noah’s game, they seemed nice enough, and I’ve talked with them a bit in passing at holidays.
Her dad seems okay with me. I think. I’ve never been around long enough for the meet-the-parents stage of a relationship.
When Mila and I have kids, and they eventually date, I hope we don’t have daughters because I’ll string up any kid who dares come near them. Her dad is going to hate me on principle alone. Shit. I have to make a good impression.
“Congratulations, you’ve broken him.” Seth sighs.
“He’s not broken. The man is thinking,” Atlas supplies.
“Kash can do that?” Rhett laughs.
“Kash is about to bust you in the kneecap and eye. Keep it up,” I grit out. Although Atty boy is right. I am thinking.
As he finishes up my tattoo, I have an idea.
It’s a bit drastic, but I think it’ll turn out okay.
The wedding is coming soon, and I have to be prepared for when I see them again.
I need Mila to be mine, and I need them to take me seriously.
Mila’s family means a lot to her, and if I want her, I have to make sure I stay in their good graces.
“Alright. You’re all set.” Atlas wipes down my neck one final time, then applies some ointment to it. “Best of luck to you, brother,” he says, clasping my shoulder as he cleans up.
Tuning out the guys as they continue to bicker, I admire my new tattoo in the mirror.
There’s no color to it, just some black lines and script, but that’s okay.
I know the importance of the moment, and it’ll be ingrained in my brain for as long as I live.
Every time I look in the mirror, or someone sees me, they’ll know who I belong to.
I have a feeling Mila is going to freak out, but what’s life without a little excitement?