Fast Lane (Consumed by Love Book 1)

by Lizzie Hart Stevens

Yeah, that’s it.

  I patiently wait and plan out when to make my move. I don’t want to scare her off. She seems like a good girl, so she probably isn’t use to big muscular tattooed guys approaching her in small diners. Her hyper little friend is about to finish paying, so I casually get up and move in line behind her, leaning in close enough that I can smell her hair. She smells like cherry blossoms. She shivers, and I know she can feel my breath on the back of her sexy, smooth neck. Quietly, in my most seductive voice, I tell her that her meal is on me.

  “Um, thank you. But that’s not necessary. No offense, but I don’t know you and I am perfectly capable of paying for my own meal,” she says, turning around to face me. She’s a feisty little thing. God, if she doesn’t have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen. This short, hot, curvy little redhead is looking me up and down like she wants to devour my entire body.

  I can’t say I’d be against that. Maybe just for one night. I’ve been with a decent amount of girls in the past ten years or so, but never with a redhead. I’ve gotta have a taste. I smirk at her again and hold out my right hand, “Hi, I’m Coen Walker. Nice to meet you.” I pause, raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell me her name.

  “Uh, Lexi Taylor,” she says as she puts her wallet away. I think she realizes that I’m not going to take no for an answer.

  “Look, Lexi, I don’t just go around buying random gorgeous girls lunch.” I rub the back of my neck. I don’t know what’s coming over me right now, but this girl obviously had a shitty night last night. The words escape me before I can think twice about them. “You have the most amazing brown eyes I have ever seen.”

  Shut up, Coen! You fucking idiot. Don’t get sucked in.

  “Um, thank you, Coen.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of red. “It was nice meeting you as well, but we’re in a rush. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

  “Looking forward to it, Lexi. It was my pleasure,” I say with a wink and smile. She turns around and bolts for the door so fast she damn near trips over her own feet. Fuck if it isn’t cute to see how flustered I made her, and I didn’t even touch her.

  I’m losing my mind.

  I pay for our lunches and head outside, hoping that I make it there before they leave. As I walk out the door and turn to where I’m parked, I hear voices. It’s Lexi and her hyper little friend. I think I’ll call her Thumper. That’s who she reminds me of. Cute, but bouncy and a bit obnoxious.

  Slowly, so as to not make loud footsteps in the gravel, I creep toward my car so I can eavesdrop a little better. It sounds like they are heading over to Diamond Tattoo Studio.

  What are the fucking odds? This seriously has got to be my lucky day. But this is wrong. So wrong. I don’t chase after women. They chase after me. I don’t have time for all that flowers and candy and cuddles bullshit. Besides, when you give someone your heart, it opens up the chance for you to lose a piece of it.

  My appointment at Diamond isn’t for another hour. Maybe Lexi and Thumper will be gone by then.

  That would probably be best for both of us.

  JOSH AND I HAVE known each other since high school. I had a crush on him for the longest time, but he never returned my feelings. Our best friends dated for years, though, so he and I have always been in each other’s lives. Over time the crush faded, and now I can just be good friends with him. It was no surprise to me when I found out a few years ago that Josh had gotten into the tattoo business. His artwork is absolutely amazing, unique and fresh. I wouldn’t want anyone else designing my tattoos.

  Diamond Tattoo Studio is so clean you could eat off the floors. When you walk in the door there’s a pool table in the center of the large, open room, with five tattoo and piercing stations sectioned off along the outer walls. A few of them are painted blood red, and the others are covered in rigid stainless steel sheet metal.

  The door chimes as Brea and I walk in. We’re immediately greeted by Havoc, Josh’s black pitbull, wagging her tail so fast you’d think her ass would take off like a helicopter.

  I bend down and give her a pat on the head and she licks the side of my face.

  “Ugh, thanks, Havoc. I’ve missed you too, I think,” I say, wiping her drool off my cheek with the back of my hand. She’s about to knock Brea over with her wild tail when Josh calls her.

  “Havoc, back in your spot,” he commands. She nudges against my legs, so I give her one last pat on her head as she heads over to her bed behind the pay counter.

  “Well at least she was happy to see us,” I say, punching Josh playfully in the arm.

  “Yeah, yeah, Lex.” He gives me a quick hug. “You know I love you, but I have back-to-back appointments today. I have to stay on schedule. Who’s going first?” he asks, while continuing to set up his station with ink caps and opening up brand new needles. I tighten my ponytail and sit down in the folding chair up against the half wall.

  “I’ll go first,” Brea says, bouncing into the tattoo chair. Josh applies her stencil and has her check it out in the mirror to make sure she is happy with the placement. Once she agrees, she hops back onto the chair and Josh gets started.

  We’ve been planning these best friend tattoos for months now. Brea and I have been inseparable ever since the first grade, so why not make it permanent? We’ve both always been huge fans of Toy Story, so for our tattoos Brea’s will say “To” and the infinity symbol, and mine will say “and beyond”.

  I have my head down, playing around on my phone and reminiscing about my high school days with Josh and Brea, when I hear the sound of the spray bottle.

  “Victim numero uno is finished. Check it out in the mirror and make sure you’re happy with it before I wrap you up, B,” Josh says, as he rips a small piece of plastic wrap out of the box and grabs the masking tape out of his drawer.

  “Josh, I love it. It’s absolutely perfect!” Brea says, bouncing up and down like a little kid at Christmas and throwing her arms around Josh in a hug.

  “Good, I’m glad. Let’s get this wrapped up and get your shirt back on.” Josh finishes cleaning Brea’s tattoo, and gives her the whole run down on after care and healing. He then slaps the chair twice, “Let’s go, Lex. Your turn. I know you love staring at my hot body and all, but I got shit to do,” Josh says with a wink, lifting his backwards ball cap long enough to run his hand through his slicked back hair.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still find this man attractive. Good God. But the crush I had in high school is long gone. Taking off my shirt, I straddle the chair backwards so Josh can apply the stencil. I’m glad I remembered to wear my black lace bra today. I’m sitting in a public place with my shirt off. It would be totally embarrassing if I were caught wearing one of my boring, white t-shirt bras and some hot guy walked in. Plus, I’m sure Josh would totally make fun of me.

  After checking out the stencil in the mirror and giving Josh the go ahead, I slip back onto the chair. Laying my face against the back of the chair, I close my eyes and focus on the sounds of Metallica blasting through the studio speakers. My thoughts drift to Coen. Why in the hell would such a gorgeous man want anything at all to do with me? And the more confusing question, why would he want to buy me lunch?

  THE COMBINATION OF being so comfortable in this tattoo chair and the sound of the machine buzzing almost has me falling asleep. I probably could, if I trusted that Josh wouldn’t tattoo a little something extra silly while I was out. The door bells rattle and clank against the glass. I hear the footsteps of big heavy boots making their way closer. It sounds like they stop over next to the cash register, and I hear the tags on Havoc’s collar knocking together. And then, I hear a voice that sends shivers up my spine.

  “Hey there, Havoc. Too comfy on your bed here to come say hello to your buddy Coen?”

  Coen. He’s here. How the? What the fuck is he doing here?

  My eyes spring open, and I’m on high alert.

  “Hey, Josh,” he says. I hear his footsteps getting closer. I’m lying here with a
half finished tattoo. It’s not like I can take off running right now.

  Well, I could, I guess. But who wants an incomplete tattoo?

  “Hey, Coen. What’s new, man? What are you getting today?” Josh asks him.

  “Mike’s just going to do a few touch ups. Nothing major.” Coen says. Oh, good. He already had this in his plans then. He isn’t some psycho stalker that followed me here. I hope.

  Suddenly, I feel his finger graze my arm ever so lightly. It sends shivers up my spine, and sets my insides on fire. Why does this man, who I’ve only just met, make me so damn crazy?

  “Hi, Lexi,” I hear him say behind me. His voice vibrates straight to my core. “We meet again so soon. What are the odds?” Someone else catches his attention, and he stops. “Oh, hey Mike, there you are.” He booms in that raspy, sexy voice of his. I hear his footsteps leaving my side as he goes over to Mike’s booth.

  Josh pauses tattooing briefly, squinting at me, and says, “You two know each other?”

  “Uh, sort of. Not really,” I say with a shrug. “We were at the Stoplight before we came here. He offered to pay for my lunch.”

  “Because you’re hot stuff, girl.” Brea exclaims.

  “Shush it over there, you. I am not. You’re delusional, and Coen must be, too.”

  “Lex, Coen’s not really a guy you take home to your parents. Mostly because he won’t let there be an actual relationship. He doesn’t really do the girlfriend thing.”

  “Oh my God, Josh, you can’t be serious right now. I just met the guy.” I say in a loud whisper. “Nothing is going on and it never will, either. I need a break from dating for a while.”

  “Never say never, Lexi Taylor,” Brea says in a sing-songy tone.

  “Didn’t I tell you to shush?” I glare over at her, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

  Real mature, Brea.

  Josh ends up finishing my tattoo with a few extra minutes to spare before his next appointment, so he touches up a few of my other sun-faded tattoos. After he finishes and tapes me up with plastic wrap, Brea and I pay him cash. He walks off to get change. Brea is rambling about a mile a minute. I think she’s telling me all about her latest crush, but honestly, I kinda zoned about the time that Coen left the room.

  The studio’s phone rings, and I hear Josh answer, “Good Afternoon. Diamond Tattoo Studio, Josh speaking. What I can we do for ya?” About the same time as the phone rings, Bre hops up out of her chair and says,

  “Holy crap, do I have to pee! All that iced tea I drank at lunch just hit me all of a sudden. Be right back.”

  I’m sitting on the edge of the tattoo table with my back turned to the rest of the studio. Kicking my feet, I put my shirt back on and check out all of Josh’s crazy drawings and strange art pieces that he collects. There’s a shrunken head (which I hope is fake) and a preserved rattlesnake in a bottle of some sort of orangey-yellow colored liquid.

  I hear footsteps.

  “It’s about time you got off the phone, Chatty.” I say, thinking it’s Josh finally back with our change. I freeze when he replies.

  “Who are you calling Chatty, Sweet Cheeks?”

  It’s Coen. That deep, melodic voice is unmistakable. It vibrates through me, deep into my bones, and makes me quiver and quake in ways I never knew were possible. Patrick never made me feel that way. But why won’t Coen leave me alone? Do I want him to leave me alone?

  Yes, Lexi, you do. No time for boys. Boys are assholes. But Coen is definitely not a boy. He is all man. All six foot whatever feet and 200 plus pounds of muscular, tattooed flesh of him. And God, he smells so damn good.

  Snapping back to reality, I whip my head around and look up at Coen. He looks so fucking sexy with his thumbs resting on the edges of the pockets of his dark jeans. His eyes are a gorgeous sea green.

  “I thought you were Josh,” I say, reaching over my shoulder, pretending to make sure the tape is still on my tattoo. Really, I’m just nervous as hell talking to him, so I’m fidgeting. “And don’t call me Sweet Cheeks, Stalker.”

  “Stalker? You know, name calling isn’t really the best way to treat a new friend,” Coen says furrowing his brow. “For the record, Lexi, I’m not stalking you. It’s pure coincidence that we’ve ended up in the same place twice today. I’m not trying to put any moves on you. I just want to be friends. That’s all.” He says with a look in his eyes that tells me differently. Yet I can’t figure out why.

  “Look, Coen.” I stand up and grab my things. Brea is taking entirely too long in the bathroom, and I’m starting to think Josh is lost, too. “Whatever your intentions may be, friends, dating, stalking, or anything else, I’m not interested. I just got out of a kinda shitty relationship. I’m not looking to spend time with men for any reason right now.”

  Just as I finish speaking, Josh comes over and hands me my change. “I take offense to that remark.” He says, looking wounded. He’s so full of crap. It takes a lot more than that to hurt his feelings.

  “You’re my only exception, Josh, you know that,” I say, slapping him on the shoulder and handing him a tip for my tattoo. He takes it and gives me a quick hug, careful not to bump my fresh ink. Brea finally comes back not long after Josh does. I lift one eyebrow at her, wondering what took her so long. She just smiles, looking so innocent, but so guilty at the same time. I’ll pry whatever she’s hiding out of her later.

  Coen clears his throat, and I think I catch him smirk briefly in Brea’s direction. I knew it. Typical guy. Flirts with every girl he sees. “I have an idea,” he says. “Why don’t you two ladies meet me at the quarter mile straight stretch at the end of town? There’s a little get together of sorts tonight. Bring friends if you want, no pressure. No date. Just hangin’ out and chillin’. What do ya say?” he asks.

  Before I can even open my mouth, Brea pops up and says, “We’ll be there. What time?”

  He flashes that sly, sexy smirk of his again, and those dimples are enough to melt me into a puddle. He’s oh so pleased with Brea’s answer. I cross my arms in a huff, and give them both a dissatisfied look. I’m not happy about this at all. How am I supposed to deny the fact that this guy sends chills through every fiber of my body when I can’t seem to keep him at arm’s length long enough? This was NOT how I planned on my day going. At all.

  But you’ll get to see this gorgeous man again, so buck up, buttercup. You can show up until he sees that you’re there, then turn around and leave. End of story. You can be done with him forever.

  But do I want to be done with him forever? I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Josh, for the ink. Chat with you soon. And Coen, I guess we’ll see you tonight, but don’t expect us to stick around long.” I turn to leave. His hand grips my elbow as I go to walk past him. Strong enough to stop me, but not hurt me. He leans in close to my ear and whispers,

  “I’m looking forward to it, Lexi.”

  I suddenly feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and turn to Brea, “Come on, miss ten-minute-potty-break, let’s go,” I say as I quickly head out the door.

  I LEAVE THE TATTOO shop and go straight to my buddy Derek’s house feeling even more confused. Why does my brain scream, “Stay the fuck away from her you idiot. You’ll only get hurt.” but every muscle and bone in the rest of my body urges, “You need to have this one. At least one time.”

  What the hell does my dick know, anyways?

  My eyes know that Lexi is unlike any other woman I’ve ever seen. Her hair is a gorgeous dark cherry red, like that hot Camaro I bet last week. Too bad we weren’t racing for pink slips. They both would look hot underneath me.

  Her eyes are brown, with little tiny hints of green. Her tits look like they’d fit in my hands perfectly. And those hips and that ass of hers are just curvy enough in all the right places. My strong, firm hands would look so hot on that waist while I’m helping her ride my long, hard cock. Up and down. Slow at first, thrusting my hips, making sure to hit every. Perfect. Spot. To drive her insane until she’s begging to ride me harder.
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br />   Fucking hell, I’m sitting in a lawn chair on Derek’s front porch, waiting for him to get home so I can ask for his help to get my car ready for tonight’s race, and now I have a raging hard on. I adjust myself, and think about how I’m going to pull off this win. Losing is not an option. I’ve invited Lexi and her friend, Brea, I think her name was. No guy in his right mind would want to lose in front of two hot chicks. I’m trying to get Lexi to like me, not make her think I’m some loser. And that isn’t like me at all. At least, not anymore. There’s no point in getting her to really like me if I’m not going to keep her around for long. Fuck, if there isn’t something between us, though. It doesn’t matter how much I deny it: my dick has a mind of its own when Lexi is around. I sit forward in the lawn chair and grab my phone from my pocket, resting my elbow on my knees. As I’m just about ready to dial Derek’s number to find out where the hell he is, he finally pulls up.

  He hops out of his truck and shuts the door. “Hey, man! What’s up? Car running okay?” I’ve known Derek since we were about ten years old. We met at the skate park one day after school. Two jock type guys, a couple years older than us, were giving Derek a hard time. He was short and a little pudgy back then. I couldn’t just stand there and watch them pick on the poor kid. I ended up punching them both square in the nose, and we ran back to my aunt’s place. Derek can mostly definitely take care of himself now. He’s no longer that short chubby kid that was always bullied. He’s put on some muscle over the years since I started teaching him to stick up for himself. We’ve always had each other’s back since that day. Derek’s basically been the only real family I’ve had since my parents were taken from me.

  “Yeah, dude, I was just wondering if you would give her a once-over to make sure I’m good for tonight. I know we usually tune her up at my place, but I was in the neighborhood.” I run my finger across the hood. “Do you mind to help me shine her up too?”

  Derek looks at me with a mischievous grin and raises an eyebrow. “Who are we trying to impress, Romeo?”

  “I just want my car looking her best, Fucker. Why do you automatically assume I want to impress someone?” I grab two beers from the fridge in the garage and toss one at Derek. “Heads up.”