by Ember Davis
The problem: I’m not sure what to do about it.
I’ve tried to accept our friendship for what it is; and don’t get me wrong, it’s great. I love being his friend and I value it. He’s an amazing man who won’t confront and deal with whatever is in his past. Maybe he can’t, I don’t know. None of us know and none of us are going to push him.
I don’t think he believes we’ll judge him; it’s like he fears something even deeper than that. I can’t take that fear away and he won’t let me carry any of the burden with him. I can’t force him. So, I value our friendship and hope it gives him some comfort while I also hope that he’ll open up to me or anyone really. One day, maybe; hopefully.
I also can’t deny the burning fucking need that rips through my body every time he’s near. It’s like a fire that can’t be quenched. I’ve played out countless fantasies in my mind of the two of us together. Hot as fuck.
I’ve made myself cum thinking about his chiseled jaw and how his beard would feel between my thighs and against my sensitive nipples. I can get wet just thinking about looking into his stormy grey eyes as I take his cock in my mouth. I’ve imagined pulling his shoulder length golden-brown hair out of his requisite man bun as he fucks me hard.
Why that fucking man bun turns me on, I have no idea. I usually find it pretentious and douchey on guys. Not on Zeke. God, not on Zeke at all. Maybe it’s the beard. The man bun is obviously for function with him. It’s not about having a certain look because it’s part of his own authentic personal swagger. I guess it doesn’t matter why because no matter how hard I try and deny it to myself, it makes me wet.
Zeke is tall and muscular, but he’s not bulky. His physique is leaner, but he’s not lacking strength and it’s obvious. Fuck. What I wouldn’t give for him to pick me up and fuck me against a wall, pinning my hands above my head as he slams into me.
Damn it.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t even look at women. He’s professional with everyone who comes in the shop. He doesn’t flirt. Today was the closest to flirting he’s ever come when he told me I was gorgeous. It made my heart flutter.
I don’t think he’s gay either. He knows that no one would care about that, not even a little. Nate and Sam, my older brother and his husband, have come to a few of our gatherings here and there and no one has batted an eye. As I would fucking expect because I wouldn’t have bigoted assholes as family and the guys at Banks Ink. are family.
Troy and Walsh are like brothers to me, big annoying brothers who like to prank you and razz you all the time. Dex is more of the cool brother. The one that would have gotten you drunk when you were underage, but who would have stayed with you to make sure everything was okay. Beckett is more like my actual older brother. Responsible and steady. He’s just been having a tough time of it lately.
I’m the little sister of the group. I know that’s how Beckett sees me and I’m more than okay with that. I’m used to it. The only person I don’t want to treat me like a little sister is Zeke; thankfully, he doesn’t. He treats me like an equal, but a friend.
I so don’t want to ruin that, but at the same time I see flashes of want and need in his eyes when he looks at me and it makes my pussy clench. I can’t and don’t want to deny that. I knew we were meant to be together the moment we met, but the longer this friendship shit goes on the less I’m sure that it matters what I know.
He’s never made a move; he rarely touches me. He rarely touches anyone unless he’s tattooing them. It makes me sad for him. Touch is so important. Maybe that makes me a little new age in my beliefs, but I grew up in a household where everyone was affectionate.
My parents died in a car crash when I was 16, 7 years ago now. Drunk driver. We were spared a trial because the other driver died in the crash too. I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.
Nate stepped up and kept us together, even though he was fresh out of college and only 6 years older than me. My sister, Stephanie, is 8 years older and lived in a different state; well, she still lives there. I was grateful that I didn’t have to move schools, even though my sister was more than willing to take me in too. After my parents died, I could feel the loss of their affection and touch. My brother was still affectionate, but it was different.
Now, I crave a completely different kind of touch and I have a sinking feeling that Zeke is the only one who can give it to me. No man has ever touched me. Yeah, a 23-year-old virgin. It wasn’t really a conscious choice; it just kind of happened.
When my parents died, I had been dating this guy, but I wasn’t handling their deaths very well. Understandably, I might fucking add. He couldn’t take it and he bailed on me. He said everything was too heavy with me and that he wasn’t into all the emotional baggage, especially if he wasn’t getting his “dick wet”. Yeah, his words. What an ass. Thank god I didn’t have sex with that douchecanoe.
When Nate stepped up, I’m not sure he knew what to do with me. I wasn’t the same person for about two years. Before their deaths I was happy and bubbly. There was a little teen angst from time to time, but I always looked for the silver lining.
After their deaths I retreated. I struggled to finish school, but I eked it out. I just couldn’t concentrate on anything. The only thing I could focus on was my art, so I threw myself into it. I had been thinking about art school, but my grades were fucked so I knew that wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t really sad about it either. I think I was supposed to be. Oh well.
I had no idea what direction I should take in my life, but I knew I wanted to utilize my artistic skills. I needed to. A few of my friends had been talking about getting tattoos when they turned 18. That got me thinking and I started looking into artists in Denver and what it took to become a tattoo artist.
I found a few female tattoo artists who were super talented; I approached a few about becoming an apprentice. I also came across Beckett and Banks Ink., since he had just opened the shop. I saw the talent of Beckett, Walsh, Troy and Dex. That was something I yearned to be a part of, but I knew that I would have to prove myself before I could get that chance.
I was an apprentice for two years and then I spent a year bouncing from shop to shop doing pop-ups and building my social media presence. It was kind of great because I got to learn even more and see other styles up close and make connections in the city. I think that year made me a stronger artist.
I figured I’d have to do at least another year like that before I could try and get a chair in Banks Ink.. I signed up to do an annual tattoo convention in Denver and the guys at Banks Ink. had booth space few down from me. We hit it off immediately and I had my permanent spot within the week.
Troy always says that it’s like that with everyone in our family, you just know because you click. Still being the newest addition, even two years later, I haven’t seen it happen from the outside. Until yesterday when I met Amelia.
I guess Troy was right because I knew that she was going to be a part of our family the moment I saw her. Even though Beckett was being a dick, which is so not like him, there was something special in the way she looked at him. She’s one of us; I could feel it. To find out she manages one of the best cannabis shops in the city? Even better. Then to find out that she made the beanie I had just bought at her shop the other day? Almost too good to be true.
She’s exactly what Beckett needs in his life. We all need someone steady in our lives, someone who can ground us and bring us back home. The center. I have a feeling Amelia will be exactly that for Banks Ink..
Well, if Beckett can make it right with her. He seems determined, so I don’t doubt he’ll succeed. I hope it doesn’t take long because I don’t like this grumpy thing he has going on today. He’s usually even keeled and calm, though, he’s been a little sad lately.
If only Beckett finding Amelia could change the issues I’m having in my love life. Well, my non-existent beyond fantasies of Zeke love life. How long do I keep this going? Should I just acc
ept that he’s never going to want to be more than friends? Could I be reading into the lust I see in his eyes sometimes? Fuck, maybe I’m just delusional.
Even if I am and Zeke doesn’t want me, I still want him so badly that I almost can’t contain it. I’ve had to bite my tongue not to say how much I want him. I’ve had to sit on my hands to prevent me from reaching out and touching him or pulling him to me and kissing him. I’ve had to leave hanging out with our friends just so I don’t do something that crosses the line.
I saw the terror in his eyes when I told him that if it’s right, it’s just right and that it doesn’t matter if someone’s ready for it when you meet the right person and fall in love. That doesn’t make me feel great about the fact that I’m in love with him. I don’t know what he’s so afraid of; maybe he’s afraid of having to let me down easy?
Sometimes the only thing I can throw myself into is my art. While my tattoo style is on the cute side, when I paint, I prefer realism. Sometimes it’s photorealism if I use a photo as a reference and sometimes it’s more hyperrealism. I love the style because I can get sucked into my art that way and focus on the details; details I can control.
I don’t show my paintings to people. In fact, I think Beckett is the only person who has seen them because he fixed something at my apartment when my landlord was taking too long. I made sure to put away all the paintings of Zeke. Fuck, if anyone knew how many times I’ve drawn and painted him they’d probably have me committed.
I tried dating a few times over the last two years. I didn’t tell anyone about it because they were fucking horrible experiences. I know people find love through online dating, but it only brought me sleaze and anxiety.
I’m sure other people have even worse horror stories than I do, that doesn’t make my dates any better. Jeez, that’s not even including all the horrible messages men sent me when I was on the site. So many dick pics. No, I’m just talking about the guys who seemed normal enough to meet.
The first date I went on the guy was fifteen minutes late and not only did he not apologize, but he tried to make me feel like it was my fault that I was on time. Who does that? I was ready to leave before we even ordered, but I was determined to give him a shot because I try very hard not to judge others on limited information and we had been sending each other messages for a few weeks.
I didn’t make it through my main course because he revealed to me that he still lives with his mom and that she still does his laundry. Now, the living with his mom thing isn’t necessarily a deal breaker for me, but she does his laundry? He was fucking 28 years old. No. No way. I feigned an emergency and got out of there. I had lost my appetite when he started chewing with his mouth open anyway.
The next few dates were more of the same—entitled, rude men who had no direction, but worse than that, they had no dreams or hope for their lives. My spirit can’t take that. I know I’m lucky to be where I am so young. I have my talent to thank for that. Even if I didn’t have that though, I’d still have hopes and dreams.
The last date I went on was almost a year ago and it was the worst of all. I thought I had learned from my mistakes, so I made sure to ask a lot of questions. John seemed like a put together guy. He had recently graduated from college and was just starting out at a marketing firm. Even though he was starting out, he had aspirations and ambition. He took one look at my lilac hair, mind you the hair in my dating site photo was green, and said that he bet I’d be a “wild fuck”. Yeah. Our conversations hadn’t consisted of anything sexual before. Then he asked me about tattooing and tried to mansplain everything about the industry to me.
We met at a gallery opening for our date and he hated the abstract works around us. He asked me my opinion about the pieces and then sneered at my answers. Granted, I should have been done long before, but the last straw was when he eyed the tattoos on my arms and asked me if I was going to have them removed because he couldn’t parade me around his firm like that.
I didn’t slap him, just so you know. I was fucking close. No, instead I took the high road, gave him a huge smile and poured my red wine all over his white dress shirt. I’d never heard a grown man shriek quite like that before.
After that, I was done. I don’t know how I’ll meet someone so I can forget about this connection I feel with Zeke that goes beyond friendship. Guys at bars aren’t much better and I don’t really go to bars unless it’s our family Friday night meet up. Some leer, a few try and chat me up, but I’m not going to let some guy pick me up in front of Zeke. Right? Or is that exactly what I should do?
Fuck. I’m confused. I just want him to want me. That’s what I really want when I search my heart. I want him to wrap his arms around me and make me feel more than I have in my whole life and certainly more than I’ve felt since my parents died. I want to feel everything.
Maybe I need some girlfriends in my life. Amelia and Andrea seemed really close yesterday and I want that in my life. Yeah, I met some amazing women while I was piecing together my apprenticeship, but they are colleagues and peers. I was also underage for a good portion of when I was an apprentice, so I wasn’t able to go out and hang out when they went out.
I’m saved from my wallowing by my first client of the day and I’m excited to bring her frolicking zombie faeries to life. I finished sketching it yesterday and I bring my client to my station to show her what I came up with. I hope she likes it because I have the stencil ready to go already.
I love it when a client gasps at my art. I have to say, I’m pretty proud of this one myself. Three zombie faeries are frolicking in a meadow edged by wildflowers and scraggly trees. They’re dancing around a fairy circle of sickly mushrooms dripping in poison. It’s creepy and beautiful. My client loves it.
I get the stencil placed and dive right in; the banter and good-natured ribbing is constant background noise in the shop. I love it and normally I’d pay closer attention, but I just can’t force myself to do it today. This tattoo is probably going to take more than one session considering it takes up a fourth of her back, the scene a landscape across her shoulder blades.
I check in with my client half-way through the outline and she needs a break. Totally fine with me. It’s been nice getting lost in the tattooing, but I can’t seem to shake all the melancholy off me. I shuck my gloves and sit up, stretching my back and shoulders.
Troy pops into my station as my client heads toward the bathroom and looks at me with a little too much knowing for my taste. He’s a jokester in the family, along with Walsh, but he’s sharper than most people give him credit for.
“You doing okay Liv?”
I grin at him, “Of course! Did you see what I’m working on? Zombie faeries dancing around poisonous mushrooms.”
I notice Zeke look up from his client out of the corner of my eye, so I turn my smile up just a little. Jesus, how long has he been watching me? Did he watch me stretch? It makes my insides quiver when he’s looking at me with heat in his gaze like he is right now. Damn it.
Troy looks over my sketch and nods, “Awesome! That’ll be sick, I can’t wait to see it done.”
I smile and nod before I drop my voice and nod toward Beckett who is getting a stencil on a client, “How’s he doing? You really think that, you know, knowing she’s the one happens in real life?”
Troy’s eyes soften and he keeps his voice low. “I do. It was like that for my grandparents. They met and just fucking knew.” I nod slowly. “Doesn’t mean that everything is automatically smooth sailing,” he says and gives me a little sad smile.
I’m not entirely sure if he’s saying that for my benefit or Beckett’s. I try and keep my expression neutral, but I think I fail. I see my client heading back my way, so I straighten my spine and take a deep breath. No heavy shit when I’m permanently marking a paying customer.
Troy grins, “Banks will be fine. He’ll get the girl and she’ll be great for him.” He winks at me, “Doesn’t mean it won’t be fun to fuck with him until that happens.”
I bite my lip to hide my laughter; Troy’s fucking fun to be around. My client hops back up on my table as Troy jokes with Walsh. “Dude, did you see the meme Amelia shared earlier? Laughed my ass off.”
Beckett sits up and glares at Troy for a moment before shaking it off and taking a deep breath and returning his focus to his client. Walsh barks out a laugh and I shake my head. They should be nicer to him, he’s hurting. I can relate.
Zeke is eyeing me again, but I ignore it and focus all my positive energy on my client and the rest of the day ahead of me. So what if the man I love with all my heart doesn’t want me? I get to put beautiful images on skin that speak to people or represent a piece of themselves. My life is fucking awesome.
CHAPTER 3
ZEKE
The last four days have fucking sucked. Beckett’s been in a funk because Amelia still won’t give him the time of day and she refused to meet up with us on Friday night. Maybe Beckett should just cut his losses on this one, she seems kind of high maintenance. Well, not that I know her, and I certainly didn’t see what went down. I guess I have to trust his judgement because he seems smitten. Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever used that word before, but he is fucking smitten. It’s…kinda nice.
Nice, except for the grumpy ass attitude he’s had, that is. When he’s not being gruff and short with us, I can see a determination in him that I haven’t before. Not even when it comes to the business and he’s fucking committed to making Banks Ink. successful. He’s certain he only needs one shot and he can get his girl.
Troy and Walsh have been giving him so much shit, even Dex has gotten in on it. Not gonna lie, I feel a little left out. It’s not exactly a new sensation, but I haven’t been left out of something that feels so big before with this family. Olivia’s tried to be encouraging, but I don’t think it’s made much a difference.