by Holly Renee
It didn’t matter that it was a goodbye kiss. That it was our last kiss.
It somehow fueled me more than any kiss that we had shared all night. Somehow it tore into every part of me. Every part of me screamed to not let him leave.
But I knew that none of that was logical.
I wasn’t this girl. I wasn’t the hopeless romantic who got butterflies from a one-night stand.
But as soon as I thought the words, my chest ached. I had plenty of one-night stands in my life. This didn’t feel like that. Even if it was completely foolish to think it, this felt like something more.
He gripped my hair in his hand and pulled my head back so I was completely open to him as he devoured my mouth.
And when he pulled away, I instantly felt his loss.
I wasn’t even sure who I was as I lifted my fingers to my mouth and ran them over the tingle that still lingered there.
He looked as completely dazed as I did. Lost in whatever the fuck this was.
But we were running out of time.
I walked past him and opened the door. The shop was empty with no signs of Brandon to be seen. I took a deep breath before I turned back to face him again, and I schooled my features. I became the Staci that I allowed everyone to see, not the fool that I had somehow let slip only moments ago.
“The coast is clear.” I grinned at him. “Remember,” I pointed my finger at him, “this stays between us.”
He saluted me and I rolled my eyes.
He walked out of the room, and his fingers trailed against mine as he passed me. I clamped my eyes shut to shut down the feelings that were whirling through my head. The feelings that he couldn’t seem to leave alone.
He took five steps through the shop before he turned back to face me. He opened his mouth, to say what I will never know because a throat cleared behind us and I winced at the sound.
Mason and I both turned to look at Brandon as he leaned against the counter with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Hello there,” Brandon said as his eyes bounced between me and Mason.
“Hey, Brandon.” Mason couldn’t hide his small smile, and when I narrowed my eyes at him, he just shrugged his shoulders. “Have a good day.”
“You too.” Brandon looked down at a piece of paper in his hands. “Although, it seems like it’s already off to a great start.”
A chuckle burst out of Mason and I looked the ceiling and prayed for something to save or smite me down. It didn’t really matter as long as I didn’t have to stand here and endure these two. But my view was blocked when Mason stepped up to me and looked down at me with a soft smile on his face. A different smile than the usually cocky look that it usually held.
“Thank you for my tattoo. I love it.”
I nodded my head because I didn’t trust my voice. I could barely think right now let alone speak. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly against my cheek, and I closed my eyes as his skin touched mine. The kiss was gentle, but he lingered. Then he was gone.
The door clicked behind him as he walked out of the shop, and I blinked my eyes open. I tried to let reality to sink into me, to ground me, but I could still feel his lips on my skin. I could still feel him over every inch of my body.
“Do you want to explain to me why Mason Connor was leaving your tattoo room at seven o’clock in the morning?”
I looked up at Brandon and just like that, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I turned away from him and headed back into my room, but I heard his footsteps trailing me.
“Mason Playboy Connor. Mason Love Them and Leave Them Connor.” His voice carried into the room, and I braced my hand on my tattoo chair to try to block out his words. “Mason Livy’s Going to Flip Her Shit Connor.”
“I get it, Brandon.” I pulled the rubber band from my hair and shook my hair out before piling it back on top of my head.
“Holy shit.” He let out a low whistle.
I turned to look at him, but his eyes were moving around my space. My space that looked like a tornado had gone off.
“That ink is probably going to stain.” He pointed to where tattoo ink dripped down my work table onto the floor.
“Are you going to keep giving me shit or are you going to help me?” I bent down to the floor and started picking up all my stuff as I winced. My tattoo gun was lying on the floor along with almost everything else.
Brandon squatted down beside me and started grabbing things from the floor and putting them on my table. Brandon was almost never serious, but he was one of my best friends. I knew that no matter how much shit he gave me, I could trust him.
“So, last night?”
“Really Brandon? Can we just let this go?” I wiped paper towels over the spilled ink and it only seemed to make it spread further.
“Probably not.” He took the soiled paper towels out of my hands and handed me more. “Are you going to tell Livy?”
“I don’t know.” I started to run my fingers through my hair before I realized they were covered in ink.
“Go home.” Brandon grabbed more paper towels from my hands. “Your first appointment isn’t until this afternoon. Clean yourself up and get some rest.”
“I can’t.” I motioned around the room.
“I’ll clean up your fuck fest.”
“Seriously, Brandon?” I laughed because only I would get myself into this situation.
“Go.” He grabbed the paper towels from my hands and I rested my elbows on my knees.
“I’m fucked. Aren’t I?” I didn’t just mean with Livy, and somehow, I think Brandon knew that because despite what Brandon liked to show people, he was far more sensitive then he let on. We were the same in that aspect.
“I would say so.” He leaned back behind my tattoo chair and scooped something off the floor before he dangled my panties in front of me. “But it looks like you had fun.”
I had no idea what the hell I was doing.
I stared at my station as I reorganized it for the thirtieth time in ten minutes. My appointment would be arriving any minute now, and I couldn’t wait to have a needle in my hand to help numb my mind.
Because all that was currently running through it was Mason and what the hell I was going to say to his sister. To my best friend.
I went home when Brandon had told me to.
I had scrubbed the ink and lake water off my skin, but when a hint of Mason’s scent hit me, my hand paused. I didn’t want to wash it away.
I laid in the bed and I tried to sleep, but there wasn’t a chance. I tossed and turned and thought about what Mason and I had done. I thought about the way his skin felt against mine. I smiled when I pictured his tattoo and how he had given such blind trust in me.
But then the thoughts of how I was going to face Livy flooded me, and I hadn’t been able to think about anything ever since.
And I had somehow managed to avoid her all day.
I couldn’t tell her that I had the best night of my life last night with her brother.
Regardless of whether I knew what it was or not.
I couldn’t tell her that we had a one-night stand, and I definitely couldn’t tell her that I wanted a relationship with him.
Because I didn’t.
I knew how they ended.
I could read about love in my romance novels all day long, because at the end of the day, that’s all they were, novels. The author got to choose how she wanted their love story to end. She got to handpick their happily ever after and scribble it across the pages that made us fall in as deeply in love as her characters.
I didn’t get to chapter thirty when everything was finally back in order and everything seemed to be going perfectly and find out that hero never really loved the heroine at all. He was using her the entire time until he decided he didn’t need her anymore.
What kind of love story was that?
Spoiler alert: It fucking sucked.
“What are we doing for lunch?”
I dropped the stack of paper towe
ls I had been tearing off and stacking perfectly as Livy plopped in my chair and scared the crap out of me.
“What?” I turned my eyes to her before dropping to my knees and collected all the paper towels that were now trash. There was still a trace of ink on the floor, and I winced and hoped she didn’t see it.
“What’s up with you today?” She narrowed her eyes at me and my stomach flipped.
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Nope. Not a thing. I didn’t sleep with your brother last night.
“I’m your best friend.” She looked me up and down. “I know when something is wrong with you. Did you get laid after I left last night?”
Oh. Dear. God.
I couldn’t do this. Not today.
“Yeah. That’s it.” I smiled, but she didn’t look convinced.
“Not buying it. Usually, you’d be in here telling me how many inches he was packing, how many times he made you orgasm or what crazy position he put you in. Did he put you in a position that threw your equilibrium off or something?”
Oh, he definitely did that, but it wasn’t from some acrobatic sexual position.
“No. I’m just tired. Long night.” I stood up from the ground and stuffed the wasted paper towels in the trash.
“I don’t believe you. How long was it? Six inches? Twelve?”
I shook my head and looked to the ceiling.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not?” She grinned. “Does he have you sprung? Are you about to break out in song about how amazing his dick was?” She giggled to herself and I cringed.
“Please stop.”
“Why?” She wagged her eyebrows. “Was it too much for you?”
“For the love of God, please stop.”
“I bet you weren’t saying that last night.” She slapped her knee like the total dork she was as she laughed at her own jokes, and I couldn’t take anymore.
“It was your brother.”
I wasn’t quite sure why I yelled it at her, but I did. I yelled. And she looked like a deer in head lights. She just stared at me, stock still, then she busted out laughing.
“Livy.” I tried to get her attention, but she was bent at the waist laughing so hard that she couldn’t catch her breath.
“I don’t understand what’s so funny.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at her.
“You.” Laugh. “Slept.” Gasp of breath. “With Mason.” More laughter.
“I’m aware of that fact, but what’s so funny.”
She put her hand on her stomach and tried to calm herself down.
“Was it good?”
“What?” I screeched. “I’m not talking to you about your brother.” I ran my hands through my hair that I wished I hadn’t washed so it would still smell like him.
“Did you all make plans to hang out again?” She was watching me closely, calculating but still had a large smile on her face.
“Of course not. Mason and I aren’t the kind of people who makes plans to hang out again.”
“Did he say that or you?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters.” She nodded her head as if that somehow made it true.
“He asked if we could be friends.”
“Friends?” She looked down at her lap like she was trying to figure out what was going on. “My brother asked you to be friends?”
“Yes. I don’t understand why that’s such a big deal.” I started tearing more paper towels.
“You are so screwed.” She was still laughing, but I turned my attention to her.
“Why?”
“Because I have known Mason my entire life, obviously, and I have never once known him to ask a girl to be his friend.”
“Don’t be crazy.” I waved her off, but my stomach formed a knot. “I’m sure your brother has had plenty of female friends before.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not really and definitely not after he’s fucked them.”
“Can you not talk about your brother”—I looked up at the ceiling—“fucking me?”
“Fine.” She stood from the chair and crossed her arms as she looked at me. “So, you and Mason are friends.”
“Yes, Livy. Just friends. But you’re not mad.”
“Of course, I’m not mad.”
“How come?” I never thought she would be this calm.
I watched as her dimples popped out. “Because this is going to be fun to watch.”
Mason
Inviting Staci out for a night with the boys might not have been my brightest idea, but I knew she would never agree to come out with me alone. She had agreed to this friendship, but she wasn’t stupid.
“So, is this Staci chick hot?” Drew asked before taking a sip of his beer.
Drew and I had been friends since we started working construction together when we were eighteen years old, and when I decided to open my own company, he was the first man I wanted on my team.
“She’s hot as hell.” It wasn’t a lie. Staci was incredibly hot, but she was so much more than that. She was fucking beautiful. “But she’s off limits.”
“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?” He smirked.
“We are just friends. For now.” Another one of my brilliant ideas, but the idea of Staci just shutting me out after the night we had together completely fucked with my head. I didn’t do second dates or second hookups, whatever you wanted to call it. I sure as hell didn’t develop friendships based off one night of the best sex I had ever had in my life, but something with Staci was different. It may have made me a pussy, but I would take time with her however I could get it.
“Are you whipped?” my other buddy, Nate, said from the pool table next to us.
“That’s a lot coming from you. What time did your wife say you had to be home?” I looked down at my watch, but not before I saw him flipping me off.
“You laugh now, but you should see this thing she can do with her tongue.”
I held up my hands for him to stop after I almost spewed my beer. “Don’t you try to fuck up the angelic image I have of Macy in my mind.” We gave Nate shit about being wrapped around his wife’s little finger all the time, but in reality, that motherfucker got so lucky. Macy was a damn catch, and he was right to thank his lucky stars he had her.
“Holy shit.” Drew let out a low whistle, and I turned my attention to the door where he was staring.
Holy shit was right.
Staci was standing in the doorway looking around the crowded bar. She was wearing a tiny pair of shorts so short her front pockets hung below the hem and a black tank top that put her tattoos on full display. So damn gorgeous.
“Don’t embarrass me, assholes.”
I quickly finished off my beer before making my way to her. She was still scanning the crowd, but when her eyes hit mine, she smiled.
And that fucking smile clouded my mind far more than any alcohol I had drunk even dreamed of.
“You came.” I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame and pulled her into me.
“Of course I came. I told you I would.”
She wrapped her arms around me, but I could feel the hesitation in her touch. When I finally let her out of my hold, she straightened her shirt and looked around the bar.
“Do you actually have other friends or was that just a ploy to get me here?”
I put my hand over my heart as if she had wounded me. “You think so little of me?”
She shrugged her shoulders and a playful smile pulled across her cherry red lips.
I placed my hand on the small of her back and led her to our table toward the back of the bar. Drew and Nate were both sitting at the table, and I rolled my eyes at the matching shit-eating grins on their faces.
I pulled out a chair for Staci. “Guys, this is Staci. Staci, that is Nate and that is Drew.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
“You too,” Nate said as Drew nodded his head in unison.
I was a b
it worried that things would get awkward since they didn’t know each other, but I should have had more faith in Staci.
She held her hand up against the side of her face so I couldn’t see her mouth, but she didn’t quiet her words. “I’m actually glad to see you’re both real. I was a little worried that Mason was luring me to my death or something. I wasn’t quite sure he really had any friends.”
“He’s actually paying us to be here to impress you.” Nate smirked at me, “But he really should have hired some less attractive friends so he could have looked better, ya know?”
Staci looked around the table then her eyes settled on me. “I see what you mean. It does make him lose his allure somehow.”
“Okay. That’s enough, assholes.” I poked her in her side, and she laughed as the server came to our table.
“I’ll take tequila on the rocks.” Staci pulled out her card, but I pushed her hand back toward her lap.
“Just put it on mine.” I looked up at the server who had been giving me fuck me eyes since we walked in the place.
“No way.” Staci jerked her hand away from mine to hold her card up again. “I’m paying for my own drinks.”
“No. You’re not.” I shook my head calmly when she looked anything but.
“Mason, I swear to God.”
I just ignored her and winked at the server before she walked away.
She narrowed her eyes at the retreating waitress then turned her glare to me.
“We need to set some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” I could see my buddies watching me, both with grins on their faces.
“Yes. Ground rules of our friendship.”
“And what would these ground rules be exactly?”
“Well, for one, no paying for my stuff. I’m a grown ass woman.”
“Uh huh.” I took a slow sip of my beer as I watched her tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “And the second?”
“I’ll have to think about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around the bar.
“What about hooking up with other people?” I asked casually.
She didn’t turn to look at me as she said, “What do you mean?”