Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
August
I’d been waiting for this client appointment all day.
Once I realized Ethan was the frontrunner of the band Drake wanted to book for his fundraiser, I was excited for the chance to help.
I leaned forward, settling the paper in front of me in my booth at the shop.
Drake’s fundraiser wasn’t for another few months, so there was a good chance Ethan could fit the performance into his band’s schedule.
Even if I might not be around to see it.
The thought of moving made my heart squeeze tight.
I’d been attempting the fingers in my ears “la, la, la” method of problem-solving, which meant I’d barely mulled it over.
Not like I could bring up the issue to my friends here.
They’d try to convince me to stay, just like Mom and Dad were trying to convince me to go.
And then I’d be more confused.
The one sway factor right now was Drake Castillo.
Was it healthy basing my life decisions on a guy I’d just started hooking up with? No, not in the slightest. But I’d never been considered healthy anyway.
My phone buzzed with a text from Mom.
This flower looks like it’s frowning.
I snorted and started to type a message back and then stopped. The first thing that popped into my head was that the flower was one from the front yard that wouldn’t be my parents’ front yard anymore, and ugh. I sent a heart back instead of my usual rambling and set to my canvas.
I put the brush to paper, and blue bloomed on the sheet. Painting with watercolors offered a steady hit of dopamine, and I needed it bad. Mom and Dad had been sending me emails of rentals down in Florida. Truthfully, I hated all of them.
The stroke of purple burst on the page, the bright color against stark white reassuring in a way little else was.
The sunset by a pier was a piece that had been cycling through my head ever since that night.
Something about the clear lines of the shadowed pier, the crisp salt breeze making my head spin, and the pure magic that had dwelled between Drake and I during the show had stuck with me.
Finding that sort of chemistry was rare.
Rarer even to find chemistry that spanned beyond a single night.
I chewed on my lower lip as I coaxed more color onto the page.
“New painting?” Caspian asked, hovering over my stall. His shock of bright orange hair fit his temperament perfectly, a frequent comment he hated. Even though he was all scowls and crossed arms, he was a secret softy. Not as cuddly as Owen, but prickly like a hedgehog.
“Yeah, I’ve got a little bit before my next one,” I said, returning my focus to the page.
“Damn, that’s good, Auggie,” he said, letting out a low whistle. “Are you going to put that up for sale when you’re done?”
“Not sure yet.” Part of me wanted to give this to Drake, but was that too gooey? “Is it weird to give your fuck buddy a picture?”
Cas snorted. “It is if they think you’re casual and you’re all in, like usual.”
“Rude,” I said. “What if it was a tastefully painted dick?”
“Honestly, if dick pics were painted rather than shot, I’d much prefer receiving them,” Cas said. “The amount of guys who think they have a quality cock when it’s less than average is staggering.”
“Ouch,” I said. “No cock judgment.”
“Disagree,” he said. “You send me an unprompted cock pic, and I’ll judge the fuck out of it.”
I snorted. “So if I send you one, I’ll get a full analysis? Is it like divination of the cock? Cocktomancy?”
“Whoa, who’s doing Cocktomancy?” Rory asked, swinging in. He perched on the edge of my desk and swung his legs back and forth.
“Don’t you have clients?” Cas snarked.
Rory lifted his middle finger. “Don’t be mad because I’m more efficient than you, Mr. Meticulous.”
“Pretty sure that’s a good trait for a tattoo artist,” Caspian responded, his tone cracker-dry.
“Might just be because piercings are faster than tattoos,” I suggested, cutting through this before they bickered for the next hour. Rory and Cas would pick a topic and roll. Arguing was a sport for them.
“Where have you been lately?” Rory asked, switching the topic at a whiplash pace. “I noticed you didn’t come home the other night.”
I wrinkled my nose. Fuck, I didn’t even know what was going on between Drake and I other than really hot sex. We talked every day and were already making plans around our schedules to fit in time whenever we could. My pitiful heart whirred in overdrive.
“Would no comment work?” I asked, knowing it wouldn’t. “Look, I’m not even in a position to be chasing a relationship.”
“But you’re two seconds away from proposing,” Cas teased, a glint in his eyes.
I flipped him the middle finger and placed my paintbrush down. “I don’t even know if I’ll be here at the end of the year, so getting into a relationship isn’t a great plan. Plus, he’s my ex’s brother, and I’m pretty sure there’s a law against that or something.”
“Unless you’re in a throuple with the siblings, you’re not breaking any laws,” Cas argued. “And I guess since you wouldn’t be the one incest-ing, it still wouldn’t be breaking any?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Rory said. “What the fuck are you talking about? Whether you’ll be here or not?”
Oh, shit. Me and my big mouth.
“Look, nothing is decided, but my folks want me to move down to Florida with them,” I muttered.
“I thought you didn’t want to?” Rory asked, his brows drawing together. I could hear the upset bubbling in his voice because he was shit at hiding his emotions, even though he deflected like a motherfucker.
I scrubbed my face. Ugh, this was too complicated to peel open.
And I hadn’t even brought up the Drake factor.
Rory wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to. I liked living in the Northeast. But I couldn’t dispel the fear that everyone was going to leave me if I stayed.
Folks moved on from work. Rory would move out.
And it wasn’t like I’d had any luck in finding a lasting partner.
“I have no idea what I want,” I groaned.
“Except for your ex’s brother,” Caspian teased, offering an out. “Don’t think I missed that tidbit.”
“Wait, I did,” Rory said, switching directions at once. “Shit, is he hot?”
“Tattooed fireman,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not sad.”
Rory’s jaw dropped. “No way. You’re the most chill guy ever. How are you involved in something scandalous like that?”
“Is it?” I asked. “It wasn’t like I broke up with Serena or cheated on her or anything.”
Cas snorted. “Only you, babe.” He took a step away. “Time for me to get back to my stall and catch up on sketch work. Hope your sorry ass knows the place wouldn’t be the same without you. So, if you leave for fucking Florida, I’ll place a hex on your family.”
“Thanks, I think?” I wrinkled my nose.
“August, your client’s here,” Nyx yelled from her stall farther down.
Rory let out a huff as he hopped up from his perch. “Don’t think you’ve heard the end of this from me.”
“I know,” I muttered, cleaning my paintbrushes. I could continue the piece later. Rory giving me hell was only because he cared, and I loved how fierce of a fuck he gave.
Right now, I had a client, the one I’d been waiting for.
I hopped up from my stall and went up front to find Ethan sitting on the couch, flipping through one of the art books we had on the coffee table.
We were in the middle of a piece for him, so I’d be adding color today, which would be a long session.
I loved the mixture of unique fish he wanted in an oceanscape, so different from the normal koi sleeves people got.
Seeing him now was kind of jarring after watching him perform, that person entirely different.
He was an attractive guy with black gauges, dark black hair, and pretty blue eyes—just missing the eyeliner. Cas had checked him out, same as Owen, but I was so damn hung up on Drake that nothing else sparked my libido. Clearly, a problem for future me to deal with.
“Hey,” I called out. “Come on back.”
He pushed up from his seat and flashed me a grin. “Sick of seeing me yet?”
“Add one more to the tally,” I said. “I saw you guys play earlier in the week.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “No way, really? Why didn’t you come up and say hi?”
Heat rushed through me at the memory. Mostly because Drake and I had been desperate to fuck. I squeezed my nape. “My friend had invited me out. He’s looking for talent for a firehouse fundraiser and had his eye on you guys.”
“You told him we’d play, right?” Ethan asked, excitement brimming from him. “I’ve never done a firehouse gig, but I feel like that’d be fun as hell.”
“Don’t you all need to confirm dates and stuff?” I asked, my brow wrinkling.
Ethan let out a bark of laughter. “Right, that. That’s why we have Jesse. I’ll call him and ask, but if you don’t have the fundraiser dates nailed down yet, yeah. We’re in. I’ve got personal reasons for wanting to support the firehouse.”
“Shit, that easy is it?” I teased as I guided him back to my station where I’d be continuing the color work on his arm. Ethan settled into the seat, and I checked over my tray to make sure everything was stocked, from Vaseline to paper towels. “Nothing’s changed on the design front, right?”
Ethan shook his head. “Nah, same as what we discussed last time. I want the watercolor feel to the piece. Can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
Once upon a time, I’d been nervous when clients shared their hopes with me about pieces, wondering if my work or artistic vision would hold up, if they’d be disappointed in the aftermath.
However, after a few years in the field, all that remained was the pure joy of getting to create.
Of the expression that tattooing allowed.
And this place, Owen’s tutelage, had helped me thrive in a way beyond what I could’ve imagined.
Sure, the occasional grump still came through the door, but the more I cultivated a book of regulars, the less frequent that became. Which was something I wouldn’t have if I moved to Florida. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
I went through the usual motions to prep the area, then sat down beside him and got my tattoo gun.
The first color we’d start with was blue, since it’d be the predominant color of the piece.
I dipped the tip into the ink and turned the machine on.
The gun buzzed in my hand, the hum a comfort I craved.
Right here and now, the confusion that had been plaguing me melted away.
“Ready?” I asked as I poised the tip over his skin. “Tell me all about the next gig you’ve got coming up.”
“Next week,” he said. “I can’t wait.”
While he talked about his hopes, dreams, and future, I set the needle to skin and got to work.
***
Ethan’s piece took the next three hours, and by the time I finished, I was ready to crash with a beer back at my house.
My hand had a bit of a cramp to it, and I massaged it while cleaning up my station.
Every surface and tool needed to be sterilized, so this was a painstaking but necessary process.
I cast a quick glance to my phone. During the break we’d taken mid-session, I’d shot the news to Drake about Ethan being willing to play his fundraiser. He hadn’t texted back yet, but I was desperate to talk to him. To see him.
Which all spelled bad news for my heart.
Despite going into this with my mindset latched on hookup, I clearly hadn’t followed my own advice or direction.
A loud, ear-piercing alarm rang out.
I dropped the crumpled paper towel I was holding at once. The sound of a fire alarm had been ingrained in me from an early age, and my legs carried me forward even as my mind caught up.
“What’s going on?” Nyx asked as she rushed up to my side.
“No idea, but we better get out,” I said. “Who else is in here?”
“Just us and Owen. Clients are all gone for the day.”
“I’ll call,” Nyx said, whipping out her phone and dialing the fire department.
We reached the front of Alchemy Ink, but I didn’t spot Owen outside. My heart thumped hard, and I sucked in a breath, trying to suss out any scent of smoke in the air, a hint of fire. Owen came rushing up through the main area.
“Come on,” Nyx said, holding the door open. “Out, out, out.”
We rushed out of Alchemy Ink, my heart in my throat.
I couldn’t lose this place.