10. Jax #2
I go back to working on her arm. “Next time just come to me, okay?” I can’t stay mad at her. She had her reasons.
“Okay.” When I glance up at her face, she smiles. “I wanna get my whole arm done … maybe both.”
I haven’t even finished and she’s already got the tattoo bug. She’s going to rock these tatts. As if she’s not already sexy enough.
“Let’s tackle one thing at a time. I can’t do all that in one sitting.”
“I kinda figured that.”
“You know Sophia’s gonna freak, right?”
“Probably, but it’s my body. There’s not much she can do about it now, it’s not like this thing will wash off.”
I chuckle. I’m sure I’ll get a lecture tonight when I go there for dinner. It’ll be worth it though because I love that my Candylicious is going to be inked.
One month later …
As I’m approaching my shop on my way to work, a car parked across the road catches my eye. It stands out because it’s a classic—a red 1975 Holden Monaro. It needs a bit of work, but it’s a nice-looking car. It appears to be all original as well. You don’t see many of them around anymore.
After giving it a once over, I notice the driver sitting inside.
He’s resting his head against the steering wheel and looks troubled, but I don’t think much of it.
I’m not one to get involved in other people’s business.
We all have shit to deal with. Turning away, I crouch down to remove the padlock from the metal shutter.
Once I’m set up for the day, I find myself standing at the front window, eyeing the guy across the street again. Don’t ask me why, but for some reason, I’m concerned for him. He’s now resting his head back against the seat. He’s young, possibly in his late teens, or early twenties.
“Morning,” Candice says with a smile as she comes through the front door. “Whatcha doing?”
I raise my chin in his direction. “Just watching that guy.”
“What guy?” She glances across the street. “Oh, nice car.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“What’s the go with him? Is he acting suspicious or something?”
“No, nothing like that. He was parked there when I arrived an hour ago. I’m not sure how long he’s been out there.”
Shrugging, she turns and heads to the counter.
Things have been going well for us—we’ve fallen into an easy routine, and despite these feelings I still battle daily, we’re good.
I’ve been working on her arm sleeve whenever I get some free time.
It looks amazing. The original version of Candice was hot, but the tattooed one is something else.
“Do you want one of those pastries with your coffee this morning?” she asks.
I still buy a muffin and coffee for Beau on my way to work, but I’ve stopped getting one for myself.
Call me selfish, but I love having Candice look after me.
She found a small cake shop nearby that sells the best damn pastries I’ve ever eaten, and now I’m hooked on them.
I pull a fifty out of my wallet and pass it to her.
“Sure. That would be great. Grab a few for the guys.”
“Hah,” she says over a small laugh. “That’s if you don’t eat them first.”
As the morning wears on I find myself being drawn back to the window, and the guy who’s still across the street.
My concern for him is escalating. He’s now exited his car and is sitting in the park under a tree.
He appears to be drawing on a sketchpad.
It reminds me of the one Candice bought me before I left for uni.
It could be just my imagination, but he seems like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
When I look at him, I see myself, the guy I was before I got Candice back. Lost and alone.
I have an overwhelming compulsion to go and ask him if he’s okay, but I have no clue how to do that without looking like a stalker. What if I’m wrong about him? Although, his body language tells me I’m not.
I’m distracted by Gus escorting his client out to reception. She’s a pretty blonde, and, after she pays Candice, she turns and thanks Gus before heading to the door. Gus comes to stand beside me, throwing his arm around my shoulder, as we watch her make her way down the street.
“I just inked a caricature of a devil on her arse. Fuck me, what an arse. I wanted to bite it.”
His comment makes me laugh. “I don’t blame you, man, it’s a nice arse.”
“You guys are pathetic,” Candice spits.
When I glance at her over my shoulder, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disgust.
“He’s allowed to look, Pinkie. As long as he doesn’t touch …
that one is mine. He’s already got more than he can handle,” Gus declares as he slaps me on the back and laughs.
“We don’t call him Mr Chick Magnet for nothin’.
I aspire to be just like you one day, boss—the world is your oyster with your endless supply of pussy. ”
I wish he’d stop talking. Before Candice started working here, the boys and I went out occasionally for drinks.
They were always astounded by the amount of women who would hit on me, so they started referring to me as Mr Chick Magnet as a joke.
At the time I thought it was funny, but not so much now.
In an attempt to avoid Candice’s glare, I take a step closer to the window.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I stare across the street to the park.
I watch as the guy lights up his umpteenth cigarette for the day.
He’s stressing about something. Nobody smokes that much—well, they shouldn’t.
If he keeps going like this, he’ll be dead before he’s thirty.
That’s when I get an idea, the perfect excuse to approach him. “Gus. Can I bludge a smoke off you?”
“What?” Candice shrieks. “You don’t smoke.”
“Yeah, boss, what’s the go?” Gus chimes in, giving me a confused look.
“I smoked for a while when I was in high school.” I only did it to rebel against my parents, but it also helped calm me. Their constant demands used to stress me the hell out. “I still have one occasionally when I drink, or if I’m stressed.”
Gus laughs. “It’s 10.30 am. It’s a bit early to be hitting the bottle.”
“Just give me a damn smoke,” I snap, holding out my hand.
Gus pulls the packet out of his shirt pocket and hands me one. “Do you need to borrow my lighter?”
“Nope.” When I turn to Candice her brow is furrowed, I can tell she’s surprised that she didn’t know that about me. It’s not the only thing she doesn’t know. Like my obsession with her . “If my next client shows up, tell him I’ll be back in five.”
I head for the door before she has a chance to speak. My concern for this guy maybe my overactive imagination, but there’s only one way to find out.
Crossing the street, I head towards the park. He’s so engrossed in what he’s drawing, that he doesn’t even notice me approaching.
“Hey, buddy. Got a light?”
Looking up from his sketchpad, he makes eye contact with me. “Sure,” he says. He picks the lighter up off the grass beside him and tosses it in my direction.
“Thanks. I left mine at the shop.” Once the cigarette is lit I hand it back.
I have the urge to cough as soon as the smoke slides down the back of my throat, filling my lungs.
It’s been a while since I’ve had one. My eyes move down to the open pad on his lap.
He has a real talent. “Hey, did you draw that?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s pretty good. Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure, knock yourself out.”
He’s trying to act like he doesn’t give a shit that I’ve taken an interest in his work, but I saw the way his face lit up when I complimented his drawing. My admiration of his talent only grows as I flick through the pages. He’s damn good.
“That would make an awesome tatt. Ever thought of selling these?”
“Nah. I just do it for fun,” he answers with a shrug.
“I own the tattoo parlour across the road.” I point to my shop. Flicking through the rest of his drawings, I smile. To be honest I’m quite envious of his work. I can draw but nowhere near as detailed as this. I want to own these. “These are wicked.”
“Thanks, man.” He smiles for the first time since I’ve approached him. Even his body language has changed and I’m glad I came over here now. I know how fucked up alone feels.
“I’m serious. I’d love to buy some of these.
” Truth is, I want them all. Except for the few he’s drawn of some chick with her dog.
I won’t be able to use them. “I’m always looking for new designs.
You wanna sell them?” I pause. I don’t feel comfortable leaving him here alone.
“Do you want to come and check out my shop?”
“Sure, why not,” he replies, standing.
“Jax,” I say, extending my hand.
“Carter.”
He follows me across the street and I grin when I see his face light up once we enter.
His eyes are everywhere. I love people’s reactions when they enter my shop for the first time; it doesn’t look like much from the street, but it’s pretty impressive once you step inside.
I put a lot of thought and time into getting the place just the way I wanted it.
As I approach the counter with Carter in tow, I see a smile tug at Candice’s lips. She looks him up and down. It’s the first time I’ve ever noticed her openly check someone out. I don’t like it one bit.
“Candice, this is Carter,” I say, trying to keep my composure.
“Hi, handsome.”
What the fuck? I have to bite my tongue when she winks at him. What in the hell is she playing at?
“Hey,” Carter replies, nodding.
I’m grateful that he doesn’t reciprocate the flirting. If she’s doing this to piss me off, it’s working. What if she’s interested in this guy? Maybe that’s why I’ve been so drawn to him—is he my fucking karma?
“Check out these drawings,” I say, passing the sketchpad to her. I’m trying my best to act cool. Pretending I’m not in love with her and trying to accept the fact that she’s free to be with any man she wants is torture. I hope this gets easier with time because right now I’m struggling.
“Wow, these are amazing. Did you do these?” Candice asks as she flips through his work. He nods. “Oh, I’d love this one on my arse.”
An appreciative smile tugs at his lips when she points to the image of a skull on a bed of roses. “Nice.”
As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could handle tattooing her arse, but on the flip side there’s no way in hell I’d let one of the other guys do it.
I step forward in an attempt to defuse whatever the hell is going on between these two. “I’ll give you a hundred and fifty dollars for them. Are you good with that?”
“I guess,” Carter says, shrugging.
“All right.” I flip through the book and count how many drawings there are, adding it up in my head as I go. “Fifteen. That’s … two thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars.”
His eyebrows spring up so high they almost reach his hairline. “You’re paying me a hundred and fifty dollars per drawing?” he asks in disbelief.
“Yeah. Did you think it was one-fifty for the lot?”
“I did.”
I laugh, shaking my head. This guy underestimates his own talent. “These are good. I’ll make more than my money back in one sitting. They’re going to sell well. I already know a few guys who are gonna love these.”
“Shit.” He smiles and it’s a big improvement on the sombre face he’s been carrying around all day. Mission accomplished. If I’ve helped brighten his day, even slightly, then I’m happy.
“I’ve got a client coming in shortly. I’ve got to go set up. Candice will fix you up with the cash. It was nice meeting you, Carter,” I say, extending my hand to him once more. “If you have any more drawings you wanna get rid of, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you,” I say, turning away. I don’t want to stick around to hear the rest of their conversation.
Unfortunately, I’m not quick enough. Candice opens the register and starts counting out the money.
“There you go, handsome.”
“Thanks.”
Like a glutton for punishment, I pause. I don’t want to listen, but I feel compelled to. Apparently, I like to torture myself. Please just take the money and leave .
“Here. I wrote my number inside. If you ever want to hook up, give me a call. I’d like to see what else you can do with those talented hands of yours.”
The fuck? My heart sinks. Why didn’t I keep walking?
Carter chuckles before replying. “Sounds like a plan.”
With that, I continue down the corridor. I’ve heard enough. What I want to do is turn around and tell Carter to stay the hell away from my girl. But she’s not my girl—she’s my damn infatuation. Nothing more.
I close my studio door, rest my head against it and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself.
Witnessing her openly flirting with Carter has messed me up, but if I’d reacted as I did with that fucker, Jason, it would’ve only damaged our friendship further.
I look down at the tattoo on my forearm and read it.
I need to remember these words right now.
A moment of patience in a moment of anger saves you a hundred moments of regret .
I’ve had this for a few years now. It was one of my first tattoos.
I had Candice in mind when I got it. If I’d had this when she first texted me after I left, maybe we wouldn’t have been apart for so long.
I take a few seconds to let the meaning behind the quote sink in.
They’re wise words. After the way I’ve been acting towards her lately, this may be the only thing that helps me get through this clusterfuck.
I need to let this obsession with her go once and for all.