Mated in Ink (Love Sync Ink #7)

Chapter 1

GABE

I was late again. Even with the best intentions of showing up to my bestie's joint bachelor/bachelorette party on time, my plans derailed because of a spaghetti stain on my white dress shirt.

I'd tried to take it out with a bleach pen, but I could still see it, even when I tried to cover it with my bright green vest. I ditched my yellow bowtie and ended up wearing just the vest over my favorite blue jeans that hugged my ass just right.

With any luck, I would hook up with an eligible alpha before the night was over.

First, I had to ingratiate myself with my dearest friend when I arrived a half-hour late at our first stop, the happy couple's favorite Mexican restaurant. Hurricane Becca barreled down on me the moment I walked through the door, giving me a hug so tight I could barely breathe.

"Hey, ease up," I joked after kissing her perfectly styled auburn curls. "I just saw you yesterday."

"But it wasn't my bachelorette party yesterday!" She bounced on her toes, still hugging, tightening her grip around my middle. She wore a beaded headband with a detachable veil I would be carrying later tonight, probably. Right now, it was all up in my face.

"Gabe!" Her fiancé Bruce waved. He didn't have to rise from his seat to see me from the long table that took up the restaurant's entire back wall. He was a giant of a man. Next to him, even I looked like a petite waif, and I stood half a foot taller than Becca.

I had questions about their size difference, but I didn't feel comfortable asking. Becca and I were childhood friends and besties for life, but as long as I stayed out of her sex life, she butted out of mine.

Bruce sat next to an empty seat, presumably Becca's, in the middle, with their friends sitting on either side.

From the arrangement of faces I recognized or didn't, I guessed they sat on the side of the person who had invited them.

Becca and Bruce were high school sweethearts, but they'd attended different schools and lived on opposite sides of Costa Diablo.

They'd met at the town's annual band contest, and it had been love at first sight.

In the seat next to Becca's empty one, I found her least favorite person: Bruce's little sister, Jenna. "Shit," I whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry."

"You're lucky we haven't ordered yet," Becca muttered. "Bruce would have started without you if the server had come around again."

A few seats remained on the ends, but Becca dragged me to the only open seat opposite her empty one.

Across the table, Bruce rolled his eyes and grinned.

He knew better than to say anything against me, but his facial expressions spoke volumes.

I was always late, and he hated it. Still, he'd put up with me since before puberty.

We weren't best friends, but we'd experienced too much life together to be acquaintances.

I waved and flashed my best apologetic smile. "Happy party day!"

Always the perfect gentleman, he extended his hand across the table. I took it in mine, giving it a solid shake. He didn't try to crush me, unlike some petty alphas.

He was more than another alpha, though. My human bestie was marrying a wolf shifter.

She'd known he could shift into a wolf since he did it on accident on their first date when they were fourteen.

Becca told me about it on one of her drunken all-night cryfests after Bruce left her for a university halfway across the country.

As far as alphas went, Bruce was kind, and he respected her as a woman and an artist. I liked him, but I was still kinda pissed with her for accepting his marriage proposal.

We'd sworn we would stay single forever, refusing to be tied down.

Granted, she'd been drunk and belligerent at the time, aching to punch Bruce in the throat because he'd moved to the opposite coast for seven years.

As two artists making a living off our work, Becca and I had first made our anti-marriage pact when our dads pushed us to grow up and find real jobs already. Either that or marry someone who had a real job and start pumping out babies.

My omega dad pushed the hardest. He wanted me to find a protector similar to my alpha dad.

My family was human, but if I could find an alpha bear or wolf type, now that I knew they existed, I bet Dad would be thrilled.

I glanced down the table at Bruce's friends.

Most were betas. One could have been an alpha, tall and slim with black hair and tanned skin.

He was attractive in that way I'd always liked, but my omega dad condemned.

"No alpha worth his weight is that skinny," he would say. My alpha dad hadn't been worth his ideal alpha weight, either. He left us when I was nine, but that was an argument I'd never win. My omega dad was always right about alphas.

I dug into the chips and salsa, ignoring the happy conversations around me. Becca must have noticed my sour mood because I caught her staring at me while I placed my order. She dug her phone from the pocket of her dress, and my phone vibrated a minute later.

"Stop moping! I have plans for this evening!"

"What sort of plans?" I replied.

"Surprise plans!"

I grinned at that. I usually hated surprises, but Becca's were the best. She always managed to find the book I wanted to read or the phone cover I needed most in the world without me having to shop for it myself, or even tell her in most cases. I was lucky to have her.

She said she would be an emo zombie without me, so we were both fortunate.

Becca's home life had been hard after her mom died.

We'd been two poor white omegas living in the same apartment complex.

Bonding over losing a parent had solidified our budding friendship.

My dad was still in Nevada, while her mom .

.. we used to say we could look up at the stars and see her smiling down on us.

I could always tell when Becca was thinking about her mom. While we waited for our fried ice cream and churros, I knew from the faraway look in her eyes.

"She would be so happy for you and Bruce."

Her vibrating phone jolted her out of her trance. She glanced down and grinned at me before dashing off a text.

"Knock it off. You'll make me cry."

"You did that all on your own," I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and tucked her phone away in her pocket. I did the same with mine.

After we paid for our meals, it was time to hit the town. Like Las Vegas, Costa Diablo never slept, and we would be up most of the night with all the wacky games Becca and Bruce had in store for us.

I didn't guess at the real reason for our split from Bruce and the others until we ended up on Poor Man's Wharf.

It was nothing like the one in our sister-town to the south, San Francisco.

Instead of high-end trendy shops, we had a string of all-night bars and strip clubs.

Tucked between a payday loan store and a pawn shop, a tall neon sign that spelled "Tattoos" one blue-outlined pink letter at a time pointed us into the bright white interior.

This wasn't the first time we'd tried to lose our ink virginity together. Becca kept chickening out. First, she didn't know what she wanted. Then, she didn't think she could handle the pain. The last time we'd tried, she'd said it was a bad omen to get a tattoo when it was raining.

I glanced out at the stars shining over the ocean and grinned at her. "No weather worries this time."

"Shut up. We're getting tattoos." Her breath smelled strongly of tequila from the Mexican restaurant's massive margaritas. I had a bad feeling I would regret sticking with water.

Inside, the shop smelled of lemon and sage, but it wasn't overwhelming, and I didn't see any smoke to indicate burning incense.

There was a sandwich board listing the types and sizes of herbal teas available.

Behind that was a shiny stainless-steel box about the size of a small freezer chest. I didn't know what it was until Becca pulled me past the sign (the ginger turmeric tea was calling my name) to view another sign on top of the machine.

It was coin-operated and spat out little prize containers.

According to the sign, they weren't prizes, only numbers that corresponded to the numbered animal designs on the wall.

"One number per person per month," I read aloud.

"If you like the corresponding tattoo, you get it for only $99. "

I glanced at the machine again. The stainless-steel sides looked new, or recently replaced, but the kickboard had a few dents in it, and the swinging prize door had been ripped off its filed-down hinges.

"This would be perfect for you!" Becca said.

"How?" I wanted to choose my tattoo, not some random animal. I didn't even recognize several on the board.

"How many times have we tried to get tattoos, but you were too overwhelmed by choices? This way, they choose for you!"

That didn't make it better, in my opinion, but I loved Becca. While I knew we would always make time to hang out, this felt momentous. If I chickened out, and she got a tattoo without me, she would ditch me after the wedding.

I didn't want that. Our friendship would last forever if I had anything to say about it. "I'll do it."

Her smile alone gave me confidence. Even if I got one of the strange animals I didn't recognize, it would be all right.

I put a quarter into the slot and twisted it to bring the machine to life. The display's dim backlight flared, covering me in radiance that made my skin itch.

It was gone so fast, I thought I'd imagined it until Becca said, "That was weird. Are you all right?"

The sound of hard plastic hitting metal startled us both. A plastic toy container now sat in the machine's gaping mouth.

"Looks like this is mine." I squatted down and reached inside to grab the plastic container.