Open Liner (Alchemy Ink #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

August

“We need to break up.”

I stared at my girlfriend of six months from across the booth at the Zodiac Brewery. When had things gone south between us?

“What?” I asked, even though Serena’s statement had been pretty clear.

It wasn’t her fault my mind hadn’t caught up yet.

I could be forgetful—I’d gone so far as to forget I’d cut up jalapenos earlier before jacking off.

It was a fiery experience I never wanted to repeat.

But I didn’t think I was dense enough to miss a breakup heading my way.

Though, I guess this wouldn’t be the first…

or the dozenth time I’d missed the signs.

Serena glanced away, her arms clasped together in front of her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a chignon, and her deep chocolate eyes were serious. “Break up, Aug. We’re not working anymore.”

“Is this about the toothbrush thing?” I asked.

I could be a little needy, but I thought leaving a toothbrush over her place wouldn’t be a big deal.

And some clothes. And a few of my books.

And maybe an air fryer, but I liked to cook, and it was one of my favorite new gadgets.

I wasn’t moving in, but I was at her apartment at least a few times a week, often enough that having some stuff there made sense.

Even if I didn’t always stay the night because her high-profile lawyer life was crazy.

“You moved way more than a toothbrush into my apartment,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Look, I just…was never really seeking out something this serious when we got together.”

“And then our love magically transformed those views?” I broached.

“If that were the case, we wouldn’t be breaking up,” Serena said. “You’re such a great guy—”

I winced. Those words had been on repeat my whole life, with girlfriends and boyfriends alike, right before they dumped my ass. I was nice, I was a good guy, I was sweet.

Yet I wasn’t enough.

“Right, right,” I said, lifting my hands up. “But you need to go off and spray your wild oats somewhere else.”

“I think it’s sow,” she said.

“Like with a needle and thread? That doesn’t make sense.” I probably should’ve been feeling crappier about getting dumped, but no deep feelings of desperation rose up. Which was a sign Serena had made the right call. Man, this really sucked. “Can we still be friends?”

A smile lifted her lips, the tension around her dissipating. “I’d love that, Aug. You’re a blast to hang out with.”

Just not enough to fall in love with. My stomach squirmed a little, so I tossed back the Leo beer and took a deep breath, then looked up. The starry ceiling of Zodiac Brewery fit the astrology-themed décor, but it was the quality beer that kept people coming back here.

I checked my phone. I started work in a few hours, but I could head over early to avoid drawing this sad breakup lunch out any longer.

“I’m sorry,” Serena said again, shifting in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. Me too. “I thought our fling was fun, but it just feels like friendship.”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to apologize. I’d rather you tell the truth than do something shitty like cheat on me.”

“Not my style,” Serena said. “I know we had tickets to see that punk show, but if you’re still looking to go with someone, I can think of a candidate.”

“That punk show,” as if the Dropkick Murphys weren’t a regular name. Granted, she’d been only going to join me, not because she appreciated the music. “Yeah, if you want to pass them my information, that’d be great.”

This was such a relaxed split it was even bothering me.

Most of my breakups had at least a few sniffles or teary eyes, but Serena had just been a fun person to hang out with more than someone I’d craved.

Yet now I’d be lonely. And I hated being alone.

Rory was spending more and more time over Wyatt’s, and at any moment he’d be dropping the news that he was moving out.

I plunked some cash on the table for our beers and stood. “I’m going to head out for work early. Keep in touch, okay?”

Serena flashed me a half-smile, sympathy in her eyes. “I will. I’ll figure out a time to get your stuff back to you.”

“My air fryer?” I asked.

“Definitely your air fryer.” She shook her head, her eyes crinkling with her grin. “I’ve never used that thing in my life.”

“You’re missing out,” I said as I stepped away from the table. “It’s revolutionary.”

Serena snorted and rose with her arms open to offer a hug.

I stepped in because I was a sucker for hugs, even if it stung.

No matter how amiable this breakup was, I’d miss spending time with her.

Because “we’ll stay friends” meant the same as “you can always visit” when someone moved away.

Both just meant less of that person in your life.

When we separated, an audible sigh escaped me.

Serena clapped me on the shoulder. “Might not be me, but you’re going to find them.”

If only.

I attempted a half-hearted smile and tossed a hand up as I turned on my heel to make my exit. The moment I left the air-conditioned embrace of Zodiac Brewery, the bright, hot July sun beat down on me. Not like it bothered me much though. I enjoyed the summertime, sweaty balls and all.

My Subaru awaited me in the parking lot, but my trip out of the restaurant left me feeling more lost than I had wandering in.

Serena wasn’t wrong—our relationship had been lukewarm for a while—but I hated being alone.

And the loneliness was creeping in more than ever with how often Rory was out lately.

At least I knew one place I could go.

I hopped in my car and set off down the road. Within minutes, I’d reached my destination, my mind humming.

Alchemy Ink was a safe haven for me. The familiar logo with the A for the philosopher’s stone and script in black on a white background stood out on the sign, and something in me relaxed.

I stepped out of my car and ran fingers through my hair, which was getting long enough that I’d need it cut soon.

When I stepped inside, the scent of the incense Rory liked to burn tickled my nose.

He was probably already in for his shift, and even though my first tattoo client wasn’t until later, I could use the time to catch up on some artwork in my stall.

I specialized in watercolor tattoos, and preferred the medium as an artist as well.

Even though I had a stream of alternative income from my watercolor pieces, I’d never leave tattooing.

Getting to interact with people all the time scratched an itch an isolated artist’s life never would.

“What are you doing here so early?” Rory asked, sitting on the checkout counter instead of a seat.

He swished his legs back and forth, a ball of constant energy.

With his dark hair, tattoos, and lively blue eyes, he drew plenty of attention, but we’d always gelled as friends rather than anything more.

“Thought you and Serena had a date?” Rory had been at our place when I left this morning to run errands, though I’d been far more optimistic about my date then.

“We did,” I said, plunking onto the couch stationed against the wall for clients.

Our waiting room was filled with shelves of knickknacks.

Weird esoteric shit that fit the theme: glass vials alongside leather-bound books with long-winded deep dives into alchemy I’d never bothered to read. “And then she dumped me.”

Rory hopped off the counter and closed the distance to sit beside me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders in a tight hug. “That blows. Can I be honest?”

“Do you have any other setting?” I challenged. I appreciated him, bluntness and all.

“I thought Serena was just one of your friends for like…two months into your relationship,” Rory said. “I didn’t even know you guys were dating.”

“Apparently she felt the same way.” I wrinkled my nose and tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling. “I should get ‘let’s be friends’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“In Minimalist lettering.” Rory snickered. “Nyx will do it. She loves script tattoos.”

A laugh escaped me. Nyx loathed script tattoos. Every artist had their preference, and her style was neo-trad or trash polka, depending on the client. “Why can’t I find what you have with Wyatt?”

“Back off, bitch. He’s mine,” Rory teased, a lightness in his eyes.

“I don’t want him.” I nudged Rory in the shoulder. I’d always been a romantic at heart, a serial monogamist, the total opposite of Rory. And it had gotten me nowhere. “I just don’t understand why, out of a row of people, I pick the one I have the least chemistry with.”

Rory shrugged. “I think you pick people you’re comfortable with. And that’s great—that should be a part of things, but if you’re not feeling like you’re driving on the edge of a cliff and could sail off at any moment, then what are you doing?”

I shook my head. “That sounds terrifying. Hard pass.”

As much as Rory went to extremes, I could see what he was saying—that I played it safe. Serena had been funny, pretty, and we had good sex. But there wasn’t… more. And I’d been craving more for a long time. Though what was wrong with wanting comfortable? Couldn’t I have that and a thrill?

“I was planning on going to Wyatt’s tonight, but I could stay home instead, if you want. We could grab some beers and watch a movie.”

My heart squeezed tight. I appreciated Rory’s offer, but he was still riding new relationship bliss.

I didn’t want to take that away from him over a relationship I wasn’t even devastated over losing, just disappointed.

“I’m working late tonight, so don’t worry about it. I’ve got my favorite client in anyway.”

“Is it Renegade Granny or Marine Hottie?”

Damn, coming into work had been the right call. If I’d stayed at home, I would’ve been bummed out, but being here helped lighten my mood.

“Renegade Granny,” I said. “We’re in the middle of a splashy mermaid on her arm, tits out and all.”

“God, I love her,” Rory said.

The clients were one of the things I loved most about this job.

Getting to share my art with people—on their skin—was a connection I’d always craved.

And Owen made sure we only worked with solid people.

He wouldn’t permit shitheads to come to his business.

He always had a saying that if you let one stay, suddenly the whole place stank.

“She’s the best. We’ve got plans for a whole back piece after,” I said. Thinking about what we’d discussed made me want to get out my pad and pencils to sketch the basics.

“You’ve got that look in your eye, like you’re about to vomit up some new art piece,” Rory said. “Better hustle to the back.”

“Vomit up?” I asked. “Way to make it sound nasty.”

“Fine, spread your legs and push because you’re about to birth some new art.” Rory’s eyes gleamed with amusement. I flipped him off.

“All right, I’m going to go ‘birth some art.’” I pushed up from my slump on the couch.

The fact was, I was more distraught over not having someone than missing Serena a mere hour after our breakup, and that was pretty telling.

Yet, as with anything, the urge to spill those images and feelings onto the page grew stronger by the second.

Art had been a part of my life since I was a kid, and I’d gotten lucky as hell when Owen took me on as an apprentice.

Sure, I might not have the partner I’d been dreaming of, but I had a solid group of friends I wouldn’t trade for the world.

For now though, I’d get my feelings out on the page.