Moments in Ink

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  I had never been good at dating, hence why I’d ended up with the person I had. And I felt like I had gotten even worse at the idea of it since.

  All because I was trying to be introspective and shit. And frankly, I didn’t know where to start.

  “Just wear the fucking suit,” I growled and reached for my stone-gray pants, and the white button-up top with a black lace design along the seams.

  I would pair it with a leather jacket, or maybe my vest, as well as some high-heeled boots and call it a day.

  It wasn’t the fanciest thing I owned, nor the most sparkly. Zia would probably outshine me no matter where we went or what I wore, and that was fine with me. She sparkled even without makeup, and her hair brushed back as if she had recently woken up.

  She shined in the darkness, and I liked that.

  I didn’t mind being the canvas next to her, but I did mind looking like hell. I at least had to try.

  But I didn’t know where to start.

  I set out my clothes and went back into the bathroom to do my makeup.

  I had watched her basic night out tutorial seven times earlier, had taken notes, and now I was going to try it.

  The fact that I was putting so much into this embarrassed me, and if anybody asked, I would lie to them and say that I hadn’t done any of it. But here I was, trying to practice a basic smoky eye with whatever makeup I had.

  Thankfully, Zia’s tutorials also came with a link to her website that went over everything step by step in words, as well.

  I appreciated the notetaking because, sometimes, I got distracted by the sound of her voice, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly how I felt about that.

  I was trying, and that had to count for something.

  I still couldn’t believe that I had said yes to a date, and I had a feeling that she couldn’t quite believe she had not only asked me but that I had said yes, as well.

  We would have fun tonight, and I was going to try and get out of my comfort zone. My comfort zone lately had been me hiding in my new house and pretending that the rest of the world couldn’t find me.

  I couldn’t hide for the rest of my life, though, so I needed to find out if this new phase suited me. If it didn’t, then Zia and I could walk away as friends, and we wouldn’t hurt each other in the end. Because we would have barriers, we would have rules.

  And we would have fun.

  I was super stressed out.

  I looked down at the new brushes in front of me and hoped that I had bought the right ones, even though they were the ones directly from her website.

  I had wanted to get this right, and frankly, I needed something more than the sample brush that had come with my previous makeup.

  She had mentioned something about cleaning brushes, so I had bought that stuff, too, and now I had a wide array of new utensils. Though I probably needed better makeup to go with all of it.

  I applied my primer, something I hadn’t even known existed until now, and then started on my base and the rest.

  I sucked at blending, but with the new brush I had, it was easier than it had ever been before. Having the right tools or even some semblance of how to use them actually helped.

  Who knew?

  I curled my lashes, applied my nude matte lipstick because I wanted to showcase my eyes, as well as my cheekbones because, apparently, she liked them, and called it a day.

  I added more products to my hair, something I was good at because I trained myself for months to get my hair the way that I wanted it depending on the situation while smiling at the person in front of me.

  I let out a breath. “Here we go.”

  I looked like myself, if a little bit brighter. I grinned. I liked it. I hoped Zia did, too.

  Hoping for the best, I put on my clothes and decided on a leather jacket instead of a vest so I didn’t cover up the intricate designs on the shirt, then slid on my high heels that made my ass look great, if I did say so myself. I added earrings, and a masculine watch as well as a glittery bracelet.

  Sometimes, I knew I was a contradiction in what the norms might be. Still, I felt powerful when I picked out elements to put together to discover who I was.

  I looked slightly different when I worked, and that was fine with me. I could put on whatever armor I needed to. Figuring out what lay beneath that was my goal, and I was working on it. But for now, I would simply enjoy myself.

  I put my wallet and phone in a small bag, deciding that I didn’t want to mess up the lines of my suit by putting them in my pockets. Nine times out of ten, I ended up checking my coat if we went out dancing, so I didn’t want to put them in there, either.

  I looked really fucking hot, at least I would until I rubbed my makeup off by accident or something, so I was calling it a win.

  I was honestly nervous to see what Zia would wear tonight. Because she was sexy as hell, made my palms damp and everything inside me clench in the best ways possible.

  I had no idea what I was doing when it came to her, but I was enjoying the chase and finding out.

  “Let’s do this,” I whispered to myself. And then I made my way out my door and walked across our connecting paths to her house.

  It was probably stupid going out on a date with my neighbor. When things inevitably got fucked up, I’d have to see her often. I was going to try and take a chance, though, even if that chance screwed with everything. So, here we were.

  I knocked on her door, waited a beat, and sucked in a breath when she opened it.

  “My God,” I said, surprising myself. She grinned, her light eyes bright and full of sin.

  She wore a black dress that clung to her body, covered her shoulders, and went down low in the front, so low that I wasn’t even sure she could be wearing a bra. And that didn’t bother me in the least.

  The fabric clung to her curves, all the way down past her butt to mid-thigh, with a slight slit up the side that showed even more delicious leg.

  The dress was a smooth black with some lace cut-outs in strategic places. It wouldn’t look overly tempting to anyone but possibly me.

  Other than the front part that showed off some lovely cleavage, the cut was quite conservative compared to some of the dresses that I knew we’d be seeing tonight at the club. Yet, with every movement she made, I could taste the seduction and promise in her wake, and I knew tonight would be interesting.

  “Wow. I love your makeup. And your suit. Just the whole getup. You look fucking amazing.”

  “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  I smiled, a little self-consciously, and raised my hand to my face before stopping myself before I touched my makeup.

  “I, uh, might have used your tutorial. I wasn’t going to tell you that, but here I am. I tried.”

  Zia’s eyes widened, and I swore they went glassy for a minute as if she were about to cry. Then she smiled big, her bright red lips looking biteable. “That is amazing. If you’ll let me, I’d love to take photos for my website. That’s stupid, though, because that’s the job, and we’re on a date.”

  I could feel my face warm. “I’m not hiding anything, not anymore. So, if you need to take a couple of photos throughout the night, go for it. Just don’t let me be drunk or stupid on social media because I don’t want to lose my job.”

  Zia’s eyes widened. “I would never. I have to be watchful with the persona I put on social media, and I’m always cautious with my friends, too. Bristol has to be super vigilant with her job, considering the masses that follow her as it is with her career. Plus, her brother? The formal model-turned-bestselling-author? And Aaron? The famous artist? They’re all on my social media from time to time, and I’m very careful with them.”

  “You’re going to have to tell me more about this family,” I said, leading her to my car. “They sound interesting.”

  “You don’t even know the half of it. I mean, you know Aaron, but I figured you would know the others.”

  I shook my head as I led her to the car, closed t
he door behind her, and ran around the front to slide into the driver’s seat. “I don’t, oddly enough. I dated Aaron, or whatever we did before my marriage, and then we sort of lost touch during it all.” I waved my hand at the questions on her face. “I don’t want to get into too much of that, if it’s okay.”

  “I understand.”

  And I figured she did, at least with what she had mentioned about her ex. So, I wouldn’t pry, and she wouldn’t either. And we would set the perfect boundaries that we needed.

  “Anyway, Aaron told me a bit about his family, but we usually talk about work or books.”

  “So, you read romance, too?” she asked.

  “I love it. And if you’re going to shame me for it, I will kick you out of this car.” I winked as I said it since I had a feeling that Zia didn’t degrade anyone.

  “Are you kidding me? We are avid readers, although I’m a huge fan of audiobooks.”

  “I got into them in the past couple of years, too. They’re great for the commute.”

  “I don’t have a commute as much these days,” Zia said with a laugh. “My studio’s in my house. Or I’m in the process of making one, at least. However, I like to walk around and do my chores and things while listening to a book. Makes it easy for me to get my steps in while listening to a very steamy narrator.”

  “I usually listen to a podcast or something when I’m at home, but I should try listening to more books. My reading list is ridiculous at this point.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So, I was thinking Z’s for a drink. And then we can head to that club you were talking about.”

  “That sounds perfect. I had a late lunch, so I’m not starving for dinner.”

  “I did the same. And then I had a snack just in case,” I said with a laugh.

  “Makes sense. There’s a diner right outside the campus that has amazing food when you’re starving after dancing. Like at ten o’clock at night.”

  “You remember when it used to be like two o’clock in the morning?” I asked, pulling into the parking lot of the bar.

  “Yeah, I’m not a teenager anymore. Or even twenty-one. Not that I did much of that when I was in school. I had too much homework.”

  “Me, too. What’s your degree in?” I asked as we got out of the car.

  Zia shrugged, looking a little self-conscious, and I wondered what I’d said. “Psychology.”

  My brows rose, and I could have kicked myself for the look that overtook her face. “That’s awesome. I can tell that you have a message you’re trying to get across when you talk about inner beauty and things like that. It makes sense that you have a basis for it.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to be a makeup artist full-time, but my parents wanted me to go towards something that could make money,” she said with a laugh. “I sort of met between the two. I love what I do, I love my degree, and I’m still trying to figure out how to blend it all into a full-time career.”

  “I’m the weird one who liked math and likes being an accountant. I may not know much about what I want to do with the rest of my life, but the whole job thing? I love it.”

  “We need people like you, who know what they’re doing. That way, people like me can flutter about and try different things and hope to hell you’re there to catch us when we fall.”

  I smiled at her then, falling hard. “That sounds like a plan. Because, sometimes, I’m going to trip up. But who’s going to be there when I fall?” I asked, not meaning to say the words that were already out.

  “I guess that’s what people like us are there for. To be there when the others fall. Or maybe this is getting too deep, and we should go have a martini and then go dance.”

  I wondered where our conversation would go if we let it. But she was right. We didn’t need to get so serious.

  “I want an old fashioned, not a martini.”

  “I thought you had vodka when I first saw you at the bar last time. With Aaron. So, you’re a whiskey girl?”

  “I’m a mixed girl. I’m just really in the mood for something delicious.”

  I hadn’t meant to say the words as seductively as I did, but when Zia’s tongue darted out to lick her lips, I swallowed hard again, and did my best not to reach out to grab her, to taste her.

  There was a connection between us for sure, a sultry one that begged for more. But I wasn’t going to act on it yet.

  I’d at least give myself an hour or two.

  Zia grinned at the bartender as we made our way in, and I gave her a look.

  “I know his husband. We went to school together,” she said, and I nodded, then sat down next to her at the bar. The place was packed, but thankfully, there were two seats on the corner. Not the best place for a view, but that was fine, I wasn’t here for anybody else. I was here for Zia.

  And myself, if I were honest.

  Zia ordered a pomegranate martini, while I got my old fashioned, and when we took our first sip, I held back a moan. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my life,” I said.

  “They use a cedar plank in the back and a blowtorch and use the smoke in the glass.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked while taking another sip and closing my eyes. This time, I did moan. “It’s amazing.”

  “I know, right? They sometimes do it up here, but with so many people, they don’t like to have the blowtorch out.”

  “I could see that being a problem, but wow. I’m going to have to come back here.”

  “I thought you had been here before,” she stated.

  I shook my head. “One of the guys at the firm mentioned this, and I figured it sounded like a good place. And when your eyes lit when I brought it up, I assumed I had made the right choice.”

  “You assumed correctly.”

  We clinked our glasses together again, our gazes never leaving one another, and I had to wonder if I was making a mistake.

  Because I was having too much fun. This was too easy.

  And things that started off so easily, usually ended up badly for everybody involved. At least in my history.

  We finished our drinks, had a huge glass of water afterward, and then made our way to the club. The bouncer let us in right away, past the line of men and women glaring at us.

  “I take it you know him, too?” I asked, laughing.

  Zia shrugged and handed over her coat to the coat check person. “I know a lot of people. And they like me. Usually.” She winked, and I shook my head, handing over my coat, as well.

  We each took our small bags, then went back out, straight to the dance floor. We didn’t need drinks, didn’t need the intoxication of liquor in our systems.

  No, the music and the people around us did that for us.

  Zia had her hands on my hips, and I had mine on hers, each of us dancing, laughing, swaying to the music. She brushed up against me occasionally, and I held back a groan, wanting more, but knowing we were in public. Besides, I didn’t want to move too quickly.

  The beat shocked my system, the music pounding into my body as I rubbed against Zia. And then I laughed and moved around, keeping a distance between us every so often. Others would join us, would smile at Zia and want to hug her. Men and women tried to pull her away, and she would simply roll her eyes, gently tug, and move towards me, putting her hand on the small of my back to lay claim. I did the same, giving her hip a squeeze.

  Others looked at us with greedy eyes, as if wanting to join us. But not tonight. Most likely, not ever.

  No, tonight I didn’t want to share. Tonight, I just wanted to live and be.

  And when my feet started to hurt, my heels too tall, and Zia let out a sigh, running her hand through her hair, I pulled her off the dance floor and towards the coat check. “How about a greasy diner burger and fries?” I asked her.

  “Thank God. I was going to stay out there and dance longer because I could probably last to two a.m., but then I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

  “Oh, to be twenty again,” I said, look
ing across the dance floor.

  “Well, I’m not sure if I liked being twenty. The energy, yes. But everything else?” Zia shook her head.

  “Same for me,” I said, and we took our coats and moved out to my car.

  The diner was as good as Zia had said, and I made a note of it to remember next time I came out.

  The burger buns were perfectly toasted, the meat at the right temp and thickness. We each got our own, me a mushroom and Swiss, her a cheeseburger with extra pickles. And we shared a basket of fries and ketchup.

  I hadn’t had this much greasy food in a while, but I had burned enough calories during the night while dancing. Hopefully. Frankly, I didn’t care. I could die for this hamburger.

  I hadn’t realized I had said that out loud until Zia laughed, leaned forward, and rested her head on my shoulder. An older couple glared at us, and I rolled my eyes, kissing the top of Zia’s head.

  The older couple shifted away, turning and grumbling to one another before getting up from their table.

  “Hey, we could be gals being pals,” Zia said, lifting her head with a mischievous smile on her face.

  “Totally. Just like in all those historical photos when women were in bed together completely naked and cuddling. Gals being pals.”

  At my description, Zia’s throat worked hard as she swallowed, and she licked her lips again.

  “Totally gals being pals,” she said, her voice breathy.

  “Do you want me to get the check?” I asked.

  “I really think you need to get the check,” Zia said, her voice steady, yet filled with need.

  And so, I got the check, wanting more, needing more, and genuinely nervous. Though I didn’t care. Because I needed to know what she tasted like.

  I needed to know what she felt like against me.

  I just needed to know.

  Chapter 5

  Zia