CHAPTER FIVE
JAX
What kind of fucking man kicks a woman out when she’s already at her lowest point?
When she’s just found out she has cancer and is scared for her life?
A selfish piece of shit, that’s who. I never met Willow’s ex, but if I ever find out who he is and see him somewhere, you better fucking believe I’ll beat the shit out of him.
I hate that Willow went through having cancer, having surgery, and then all of the treatments alone.
Looking back at the past year, it all makes sense now.
So many times, I would find her at the shop early in the morning.
She was given a key for early appointments, and I would bet she’s used the bathroom to rinse off and brush her teeth.
After she came back from her vacation, she didn’t look well rested at all.
Not like you should look when you’ve just spent weeks relaxing and enjoying your time off.
She looked tired, but I didn’t even think to ask questions.
She’s always kept to herself. Sure, we all get along.
She’s one of us. But looking back, she’s always kept everyone at a safe distance.
Close enough for us all to know she’s a good person, but far enough away that we never really got to know the parts she chose to keep hidden.
Tonight, at the club, she laughed and joked with everyone.
They all knew her name, and it was clear she got along with everyone, but she never actually conversed with anyone.
She uses them to have a good time. To have a connection without actually connecting.
She’s so scared of dying, she won’t let anyone in.
“When I told him that kids were no longer in my plan, and neither was marriage, he dumped me.”
Any smart person can see that Willow was pushing him away in hopes that he would pull her closer. She needed someone strong to hold her tight when she felt like she was drifting away, but instead he cut the rope and let her go. Because he’s weak and doesn’t deserve her.
My alarm buzzes letting me know it’s time to get up. I have an appointment coming in first thing this morning. Willow’s side of the bed is empty, so she must have gotten up earlier.
After showering and getting dressed, I head downstairs. The aroma of coffee wafts in the air, and when I reach the kitchen, I find Willow standing in front of the machine with two cups of coffee in her hands.
“Morning,” she says, handing me one of the cups. “Black, just like you like it.”
“Thank you.” I take a much-needed sip.
While we drink our coffees in silence, I take a moment to check out Willow. She looks the same as she did yesterday before she changed into her club clothes. She’s wearing a black Forbidden Ink T-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of Converse. On the outside, she looks like she’s always looked.
But after everything she’s told me, it feels like I’m seeing her in a new light. She’s no longer the sweet, delicate woman I always assumed her to be. She’s strong and determined and kind of badass. She hides her insecurities and only allows the world to see what she wants them to see.
And instead of allowing herself to wallow in what she’s been through, she chooses to live life for today.
She laughs and smiles and never lets anything bring her down.
She may be ten years younger than me, but with her parents’ deaths and having to face cancer on her own, she’s far more mature than other women her age.
And then it hits me. I told Willow I wanted to be her friend, but the truth is I want to be more than that. I want to be the man she turns to, leans on, depends on. I want to be the one she lives her todays with. But more than that, I want to be the man who shows her how to find her tomorrow.
“Your face looks like you’re thinking so hard you’re going to explode,” Willow jokes.
“I was.” I laugh. “What do you say after work tonight we grab dinner and a movie?”
“You were thinking that hard about asking me out on a date?” She raises a single brow in question.
I want to tell her everything that was really going through my head, but I can already tell Willow is the type of woman to spook easily.
I told her I would be her friend, and I’m going to be just that, and over time, once she knows I’m not going anywhere, I’ll show her that I not only want her today, but her tomorrow as well.
“Not a date,” I correct her, so she won’t have an excuse to say no. “Just two friends going to get something to eat and see a movie together.”
She rolls her eyes, but when a hint of a smile splays across her face, I know she’s going to say yes. “Okay.”
The day crawls by and I know it’s because I’m looking forward to taking Willow out tonight. Lunch finally rolls around and Evan orders subs from the deli next door. Since Willow and I don’t have clients at the moment, she eats with me in the office.
“What movie do you want to see?” I ask her, pulling up the listings on my phone.
“What is there?”
“Romantic comedy, action, horror…” I flip through the different movies. “The Breakfast Club is playing too.”
“What’s that?”
My finger stills and I glance up at her.
“You don’t know what The Breakfast Club is?
” And then I remember she’s ten years younger than me.
“Pretty In Pink?” She shakes her head. “Grease?” Another shake of her head.
“Stand By Me?” She shakes her head. “Sixteen Candles…every girl has seen that damn movie.”
“Nope, haven’t seen any of those.”
“All right, that’s it.” I click on the movie and place an order for two tickets. “Your movie education begins tonight with The Breakfast Club.”
Her smile is wide when she says, “I can’t wait.”
Jase leaves around three, and then Gage leaves shortly after.
Evan stays until around five, when I tell him I’ll handle the phones since I don’t have any more appointments today.
Willow finally comes out of her workstation a little after six.
The guy she tattooed is grinning ear-to-ear and talking her ear off about what he plans to get next.
“Everything good?” I ask him as he pulls his credit card out of his pocket to pay.
“Yeah.” His eyes stay trained on Willow. “That woman is seriously talented.”
“That she is,” I agree, pulling up his appointment in the computer, so I can find how much he owes.
Willow points to his name, and when I look up, I notice she’s leaning over my shoulder. Her shirt is a V-neck, and her ample cleavage is peaking out of the top. My eyes flit over to her client, who is zeroed in on her tits as well.
“Willow, why don’t you go clean up your station while I check this guy out? That way we can leave to go to dinner. We don’t want to be late for the movie.”
She stands up straight, and in my peripheral vision, I see she’s looking at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am, but I’m not about to sit here and watch this fucker eye-fuck her.
“Thank you for your business,” she tells the guy. “Here’s my card for when you’re ready to schedule your next appointment.”
“Does it have your personal number on it?” the guy asks.
His card gets approved, and I hand him his receipt so he can sign it. “No, it’s the business number because we’re professionals here and don’t date clients,” I say as I drop a pen onto the receipt for him to use.
The guy signs his name, leaving Willow a decent tip, and takes his card. “Well, if you change your mind—”
I don’t let him finish whatever he’s about to say. “She won’t.”
The guy looks over at Willow, probably hoping she’ll correct me, but when she doesn’t, he just nods and then exits the shop.
“What the hell was that for?” Willow hisses, getting in my face once the door is closed and locked. “I’m pretty sure I have a voice, which means I can speak for myself.” She pokes the front of my chest with her pink-painted fingertip that matches the streaks in her hair.
I scoff. “That guy was practically stripping you naked with his eyes.”
“And he also tipped me forty percent,” she volleys.
“Your work speaks for itself. There’s no reason to flirt to get more money.
This is a tattoo shop, not a strip club.
” I eye her shirt, and she glances down.
When she looks back up, heat is practically steaming from her ears.
Her eyes glaring daggers my way. “It’s no different than when you guys let women flirt with you.
It keeps them happy and gets you a good tip.
” She’s not wrong, but I’m not about to tell her that.
I’m too jealous thinking of all the men who probably ask Willow out.
She’s young, tatted up, pierced, and beautiful.
Without thinking about what I’m doing, I grip the back of her head and pull her face towards mine, claiming her lips.
The kiss starts out soft and slow, but quickly progresses.
Teeth clash, tongues duel. Willow’s fingers quickly find the button to my jeans at the same time I’m yanking hers down her thighs.
This is not how this was supposed to go.
I was supposed to befriend her, show her I’m here for her.
Her tiny fingers wrap around my hard dick, and I groan into her mouth. Why is it all this woman has to do is touch me and all rational thought flies out the damn window?
Using my dick like it’s a rope she can pull on, she guides us backwards until the back of her legs hit the couch.
Needing to taste other parts of her, I wrap her hair in my fingers and tilt her head to the side.
As I trail open-mouthed kisses down her slim neck, she strokes my dick.
I focus on how sweet she tastes so I don’t come in her hand.
My nose sniffs her scent. It’s sweet. The same perfume she always wears. I already know I’m fucking addicted.
My mouth descends to her collarbone, and I push her shirt and bra strap to the side so I can bite down on her shoulder. She moans in pleasure, so I bite harder.