Chapter Twenty-Two. Vibrations
Chapter Twenty-Two
VIbrATIONS
Like an addict, Cam quickly learned one taste wasn’t enough.
She was supercharged, buzzing with unrestrained need for something more. She was chasing sensation. The first breathless glimpse of herself in the mirror after Esme’s dye job. The long, hesitant puff of a cigarette, the shadow of smoke on her tongue.
The scorching, slow touch of Danny’s hands caressing her skin, marking her more permanently than any ink.
She needed something—anything—to jump-start her nerves, to reawaken her spirit after so long in hibernation. With any luck, her tattoo would be the pièce de résistance.
An everlasting reminder of the summer etched into her skin.
The appointment came up fast, and on Thursday night, they left for Axel’s tattoo shop, Inked and Axed.
It was in a newer strip mall on the outskirts of town, joining an adult store, a dive bar, and the dispensary Danny mentioned.
Axel co-owned the shop with his business partner, Jagger, and upon meeting the men, both decked out in an assortment of tattoos and piercings, all Cam could think about was if their names were real.
Surely one of them had to be Kevin, or Jason, or Greg.
But they were nice enough, and it was fascinating to watch Esme around her boyfriend. She was doting but snarky, and initiated enough PDA to make even the most sex-positive person uncomfortable.
As the couple greeted each other, kissing and petting while Jagger finished another client, Cam remained with Danny in the waiting area. Dozens of designs covered the walls, some sketches, others photographs of previous work. She studied the display, chewing nervously on her lip.
Despite their tattoo conversation the previous evening, she didn’t know what she wanted.
Earlier in the day, she’d expected the design to come to her like the answer to a crossword puzzle.
But it hadn’t, and now, she frantically scanned the options on the wall, wondering if she’d fated herself with an impersonal tattoo like an arrow. An infinity symbol.
A heart.
She cringed.
They were the last appointment of the night, and her indecision would keep the guys working indefinitely. Panicked, she turned to Danny and asked, “Do you know what you want?”
He scanned the walls, painfully casual in a loose plaid linen shirt haphazardly buttoned over his Beau’s T-shirt. “I do, but it’s a surprise,” he replied coolly, grinning. But he sensed her panic, and his smile faded. “You haven’t decided yet?”
“No.” Her attention jumped from sketch to sketch. Flowers, anchors, mermaids, fish … “Nothing really stands out.”
Axel and Esme entered the waiting area, his arm around her. “I can draw something for you,” Axel volunteered. “If you have any ideas.”
“Thank you. Just give me like … five minutes.”
But even if she figured out the design, she still needed to decide what part of her body.
Danny’s muscular thigh, inked with brENNAN and pebbled with water, flashed across her thoughts along with a montage of memories: his hand on the nape of her neck, his fingertips sliding down her spine, his thumb pressing into her belly …
She swallowed, turning to Danny. “Where are you getting yours?”
He pointed to his left wrist. “Just something small.”
Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I’ll do the same. If you don’t mind.”
“I’d love to match with you. But you gotta figure out what you want first.”
And what a task that was. True to her promise, she gave herself five minutes to scan the walls. It was terribly irresponsible to be making a long-term decision with her thoughts scattered, but … she felt oddly relaxed about operating in the heat of the moment.
She liked being this new, spontaneous version of herself. The version who celebrated stupid fun.
As it turned out, it only took her three minutes to figure out her design. The many sketches of angel wings bled into sketches of musical instruments. Pianos, drums, guitars …
Wings. Guitars.
She was transported back to the beach, listening to Danny play “Blackbird.” To her dad walking her through his vinyl collection. To singalong moments in the car in her childhood.
“I know what I want,” she said to Axel, “and I’d love to see what you had in mind.”
From sketch to completion, the entire process took about two hours. In that period, Cam learned just how intimate getting tattooed beside another person was. Because even with two artists hard at work, and Esme observing from the sidelines, it felt like she and Danny were alone.
Their neighboring chairs formed parallel lines, and through every minute of buzzed creation, they watched one another. Dark brown eyes stared at her, unbothered by the sensation of being inked.
Neither said anything. Neither moved. Cam felt … hypnotized. Locked in place by Axel working, sure, but it was Danny’s intense gaze that kept her immobile. Frozen in stone, as permanent as the tattoo forming on her skin.
Sweat beaded at the back of her neck until she was uncomfortably damp. Goose bumps followed, and as the buzzing of Axel’s and Jagger’s machines continued their hum, she felt fuzzy. Not from nerves, or pain, or fear, but from dissociation.
The shop faded away. The black leather chairs, the rock music playing from the speakers, Esme tapping away on her phone …
She only saw Danny. She only saw the silver chain around his neck, and the strands of dark brown hair teasing his temples, and the contented tiredness drooping his eyes. Her mouth dried, her skin prickled, and only Axel completing his work jolted her out of the hypnotic state.
Axel finished by covering the tattoo with a clear adhesive bandage.
Since the tattoo was so small, Cam wasn’t worried about caring for it, but she wrote down every piece of guidance he offered.
After paying, she followed Danny outside on unsteady legs, watching as the shop’s neon sign flickered off.
“Can I see what you got?” she asked Danny, thoughts returning to him in his seat, wrist at the whim of Jagger’s tattoo machine.
He held out his arm. A small crescent moon bled into a rising sun, both designs lightly shaded. “What do you think? It’s simple, but I like it.”
“It’s really cool.” She brought his hand to her face, so she could study the tattoo up close. She pointedly ignored how his warm skin sizzled beneath her fingertips. “The sun and the moon. Why both?”
Danny reminded her of the sun. Of warm daylight, afternoons on the beach, clear skies after summer rainstorms …
But the moon didn’t make sense to her.
“The sun and the moon are a pair,” he explained. “You can’t have one without the other. The sun eventually sets and the moon’s always there to take its place.”
“Right.” She dropped his hand. “Jagger did a great job.”
“I agree. Now let me see yours.”
She held out her wrist. It was a blackbird, maybe the size of a half-dollar.
Axel had picked a style befitting her, mixing realistic with cute.
He’d avoided the pitfalls of cartoonish emoji, while also staying away from terrifyingly lifelike.
The final product was incredible, and whenever Cam looked at the tattoo, she couldn’t hide her smile.
Danny drew her hand close, studying the artwork. Gentle fingertips traced her unwrapped skin, tattooing her further. In a flash, she was back in the pool.
“I love it,” he said. His thumb pressed into her radial artery, and she wondered if he could feel how frantic her pulse was. “And I’m glad we did this together.”
She was too. Even if she felt weak in the knees and would do everything in her power to blame it on her new ink.
Once the guys finished locking up, the five of them journeyed to Rock and Billy’s, the dive bar next door.
The space was rock ’n’ roll retro, decorated with music-themed artwork, graffiti murals, and an area devoted to Ping-Pong and billiard tables.
Axel and Jagger were greeted like regulars, and they led the others to a big table in the back.
Danny bought a round of drinks, and she accepted hers greedily, desperate for the liquid courage.
As she settled into the cushioned booth, she studied her blackbird. It was a symbol of flying onward after pain. A symbol of growing up, of home, of her parents. Of Danny, his guitar, and a breezy night on the beach.
Unable to help herself, she met his gaze. He smiled at her, laughing along to a story Jagger shared about a crazy client. He winked over the rim of his glass, offering a complementary tale of nightmare customers.
Her cheeks heated. Under his attention, her drink tasted like nothing. He was officially monopolizing every one of her senses.
Beside her, Esme motioned to the tattoo. “I like it. Axel did a bang-up job.”
Cam straightened, jolting from her wayward thoughts. “He’s really talented.”
“I know,” Esme said. “And Danny’s tattoo? What do you think?”
“It’s … great.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
Cam shifted closer to Esme, lowering her voice in case the guys stopped their conversation. “The tattoo is objectively nice. I just don’t get it.”
“God, you can’t possibly be this dumb, can you?”
“Hey! I thought we were getting along—”
“We are, Corporate Camille. But news flash: his tattoo isn’t an advertisement for NASA. It’s for you.”
Cam nursed her drink, choosing to stew in silence. Was Esme suggesting Danny was the sun and she was the moon? Danny was light but Cam wasn’t … dark. Maybe a little gloomy given her circumstances, but she didn’t think of herself as terribly melancholy. Then again … her last name did mean moon.
“I can’t claim ownership over an entire celestial body because my last name is the Spanish translation,” she snapped. “It’s a coincidence at best. Didn’t you take psych as a bio major? Correlation does not imply causation.”
Esme rolled her eyes. “Coincidence my ass. There’s only one reason Danny Brennan tattoos a moon on his wrist like a tarot card, and I promise, it has nothing to do with fucking lunar phases.”
Across the table, Danny listened to Axel as he polished off his beer. Cam studied the way his Adam’s apple moved in his throat whenever he swallowed.
“You’re wrong, Esme. But think whatever you want. You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“Oh my god.” Esme laughed. “I finally figured out your problem.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just shut up and follow me.”
As they slipped out of the booth, Esme told the guys they were off to the bathroom. Instead, she pulled Cam to the entrance of the adult shop next door.
“If you ask me,” Esme said, eyeing her nails with no cares in the world, “all these changes are you chasing a high. Your hair, the tattoo, Danny mentioned something about a cigarette … But it’s not helping, is it?” She smirked, unbearably smug. “Because your real issue is you’re hot for your boss.”
“Danny is my—”
“Your best friend. I got it. Is that why I saw you two playing tonsil hockey when your friend was in town?” Cam had nothing to say to that, so Esme added, “As I thought.” They entered the shop to the tune of jingling bells.
“You know, getting tatted really turns me on. I think it’s something about the pain leading to a beautiful piece of art. ”
“Or maybe it’s your boyfriend doing it?”
“Maybe.”
Esme tried pulling her to a product display, but Cam balked by the entrance.
She’d never been to a sex shop before and visiting with someone she barely considered a friend wasn’t how she expected her first trip to go.
Esme laughed off her behavior and disappeared down an aisle, leaving Cam to run after her.
“Listen,” Esme continued, “clearly you’re looking for a release and it’s not working.”
Cam hid at the end of the aisle, blushing something fierce in the presence of sex toys. Ignoring the creative displays and Esme’s psychoanalysis, she asked, “Is there a reason we’re in here?”
“Besides me wanting to get Axel a cock ring?” Esme grabbed a package and kept walking. “I figured it’d be funny watching you freak out. All uptight, Corporate Camille, embarrassed by her fluttering feelings for her off-limits best friend.”
“I don’t—it’s not—”
“It’s not what?” Esme mocked. “It’s not like that?
Then why did you kiss him? Bars are loud, but bartenders hear everything.
” She stopped in front of a display of vibrators and plucked a package from the shelf, letting it dangle between her fingertips.
“I should give you props. You took a loose excuse, and you went for it. Planted one on him until he melted in your mouth like a fucking Popsicle.”
“Esme—”
“All I’m saying is if you want to fuck Danny, he’s already putty in your hands. But if you don’t, then might I suggest getting your head on straight with”—Esme shoved the small box into her hands—“this?”
Cam stared at the package. It was a mini bullet vibrator, equipped with ten settings and a recharging cable. The box described a sleek black silicone body, a two-and-a-quarter-inch length, and a fabric sleeve, perfect for discreet storage.
“I’ve never used a sex toy before.”
“Okay?” Esme sighed and to Cam’s surprise, reined in her snark.
“Look, it’s like going from a manual toothbrush to an electric one.
You already know how to brush your teeth.
The electric brush just amplifies the experience.
And hey, I’m being nice! I picked the adult toy equivalent to training wheels. ”
Cam checked the price tag. Thirty bucks. She had no idea if that was reasonable and after her week, she didn’t care.
“You think I’m chasing a high,” she said. “Do you think I’m being reckless?”
Esme threw her head back, laughing. “You’re still Corporate Camille.
You’re not snorting lines in the bathroom or hitting up orgies on the regular.
So, with your own life? Absolutely not. But with others?
Sure. You’re being reckless with Danny’s heart.
” She tapped the vibrator box. “Which is why my advice to you, my plea to you, is to try the toy, not the man.”
Cam frowned, hugging the box to her chest. “Let’s say you’re right about Danny. Why are you so sure I’d break his heart?”
“Because it doesn’t matter what you feel,” Esme replied, walking to the cashier. “You’re still going to leave. And as much as he’ll want to follow, he won’t be able to without giving up everything he loves and cares about.”
“And what if I stayed?” she rushed out. “Would you … be supportive then?”
“Even with new hair and a tattoo, you’re still Corporate Camille.” Esme grabbed the vibrator and slid it across the counter. “You’ll leave.”