by S. E. Law
But I don’t mind hanging with my family on occasion. God knows, I don’t see my parents much ever since moving into my own place years ago, and my sister is a bit of a nerdy theater kid, and therefore prone to bursting into song at a drop of the hat. But I miss that, as weird as it sounds. Plus, Patty shuns the popular clichés and avoids the preppy materialistic crowd like the plague, which makes me proud of her. I hated that crowd too, with their popped collars and gelled hair, and want to be there for her if she ever feels the need to talk about it.
On the flip side, my parents’ friends still act like they are in their mid-twenties, which is ridiculous given that they’re in their fifth decade of life. They’re slamming shots and running around the yard, dancing and goofing off like kids eager to get their kicks. It’s always a hoot, leading to a good time for all.
Now, I’m sitting with my buddies out on the patio, enjoying some leftover barbecue and beer. Jake chuckles, looking a little worse for wear from last night’s shindig.
“I mean, even if it was a good time, Dane, our party had chicks past the age of legal consent. Your sister’s friends are like what? Seventeen? I love the young ones, but I’m not ready to go to jail,” he joshes.
Zack snorts.
“Yeah right,” he says. “You would been better off trying for those high school girls, my man. You were so out of it last night.” We all laugh at this, except Jake of course who is scowling, although he’s looking green today from too much alcohol. Plus, don’t get me wrong but Jake’s not exactly a lady’s man. To say he is on the heavier side is putting it nicely. He isn’t bad looking, but he’s big and shy, kind of like a huge Newfoundland. Of course, once he gets comfortable with you, the floodgates open up and his personality comes pouring in. Then, he’s all fun and games. But it takes time to unleash and unfortunately, most girls don’t stick around that long.
Our friend, Zack, on the other hand is a real ladies’ man. He’s smooth, sly, and confident with soft flowing hair that practically hangs down to his waist. I know ladies love to run their fingers through that brown mane, but he has it up in a man-bun most days. Plus, with his gauged ears and colorful tattoos, he’s got plenty of women asking him out. So this dig coming from him is especially hurtful to Jake.
“Ladies, ladies! No need to fight.” I interject, trying to ease the tension in the yard. “I’ll actually have you know there was one girl there worth pursuing.”
“What, one of your mom’s friends or your sister’s?” Zack says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah what are we working with here? Are you chasing cougars or children, buddy?” Jake chimes in.
I snort.
“Sure, have your laughs,” I say. “And no, I don’t go after children or cougars because one, it’s illegal, and two, that’s just not my style.”
The two of them laugh.
“Yeah, but there’s no one else then,” remarks Jake. “Or did I miss something?”
I shrug.
“It’s one of my sister’s friends. Her best friend, actually. They’ve been buddies since they were eleven or twelve years old, so we’ve known her for years now. I always thought she was one of the few tolerable kids my sister brought around because let’s face it: most of Patty’s friends are pretty dorky. But I never thought of Zoe in that way because she was just a kid.”
“You’re into your sister’s best friend? That’s a little messed up man.” Jake says. “Isn’t your sister way younger than you?”
I nod.
“Younger but not that young. Seven years, to be exact, so her friend should be legal now.”
Zack snorts.
“You better check on that, buddy. We don’t want you going to jail for robbing the cradle.”
Then Jake sits forward.
“But seven years younger makes her oh … eighteen, right?”
I nod.
“Yeah, she’s eighteen, and yes, I know because she and Patty celebrate their birthdays together, so I know she turned eighteen in May. She’s still in high school though, which I will admit is weird. But yes, she’s legal, and no, she does not look or act like a high schooler. If you saw her, you’d agree.”
“Oh really,” says Zack slyly. “And why is that?”
Against my better judgment, I describe a few of Zoe’s assets.
“Breasts like enormous melons,” I rhapsodize. “Hips that sway and an ass with two full moons.”
Jake whistles.
“Holy shit. That does not sound like a high school girl at all. Most women that age are still somewhat undeveloped.”
I shake my head.
“There’s nothing undeveloped about Zoe. She’s ripe and ready to be plucked.”
Both men whistle then.
“So how did it go? Is she into you or what?” Zack asks.
I shrug.
“I didn’t make a move. I wanted to really badly, but what the fuck was I going to do? It was my parents’ party. I was standing there talking with the old man from next door who’s got white hair peeking out from his armpits.”
Jake snorts with laughter.
“Tough cookies. But did you, you know, get a moment alone or anything?”
I snort again.
“What? No, I wish. But the worst part was I got a hard-on just watching Zoe walk around in her bikini. Shit. I had to take over the grill as an excuse to hide my boner behind something.”
My buddies get a real kick out of that one. Zack laughs, and takes a swig of his beer.
“I would have talked to her, boner or no.”
I shoot a sharp look at him.
“Oh really? You would have talked to an eighteen year old innocent while your dick said hello?”
He smirks while drinking his beer again.
“She ain’t that innocent, judging from the body you just described. She’s a full-grown woman. She can handle it.”
I’m kind of pissed at Zack now, but I hold my tongue. It feels like he’s disrespecting her, and that pisses me off. Of course, there’s no sense in messing up a friendship because Zack’s always a total ass, but I still feel protective of Zoe as if she’s already my girlfriend.
“So, when are you going to see her next?” Zack asks casually.
I shrug.
“I found her journal while we were cleaning up last night. Figure I’d take the time to return it to her in person.”
At that, my so-called friend sits bolt upright in his lounger.
“Are you shitting me? You found her journal? Did you read it?”
I chuckle.
“Hell no, that shit is private.”
He gets a sneaky look on his face.
“Well, get it out because I’ll read it then. How did you even know it was hers?”
I smile grimly.
“Because I opened it to the first page, and her name was inscribed in the front. But no, I’m not letting you read it. If I’m not reading it, then you’re definitely not reading it.”
But Zack is insistent, and with reluctance, I get up and go inside to retrieve the journal. When I come out, the blue-bound volume is in my hands, and I sit down on the lounger before flipping to the first page. The first entry is dated about a year back, and I look over the writing. It’s innocent and charming, basically talking about her day at school. Zoe seems to be a perceptive and intelligent young woman, discussing books that she’s read as well as some antics by her dog.
“What is there?” Jake whines. “Anything good?”
I shrug.
“Nothing really. Just regular girl stuff. About what you’d expect.”
But then I flip to the back for fun, and land upon an entry that stops me dead in my tracks. Holy shit. The shock must be showing on my face because the guys lean forward, their eyes blazing.
“Oh yeah, you found some nasty shit. What is it Dane?” Zack pries.
I am speechless. I turn the book and show them the sketch I happened upon. It’s a sketch of me, from the shoulders up. My expression is serious,
my blue eyes fierce.
“Wow, it looks just like you.” Jake marvels.
“Because, dumbfuck, that is him,” snarls Zack. Jake’s eyes go wide.
“Ohhhh right! Well, that’s a talented little lady because that sketch more accurate than a polaroid. Are there any more?” Jake asks.
I turn the book back around to face me, and flip the page. No way am I letting these jokers rifle through Zoe’s journal and read her innermost thoughts. But then, my fingers pause, and I close the book casually.
“Nah, nothing,” I say casually. “No more pics of me.”
“No juicy tidbits?” Jake whines. “No secret dreams of hooking up with the great Dane Reston?”
I shake my head.
“Sorry guys, nothing like that. It’s just girly stuff, you know make-up, shopping, and hair. That kind of thing.”
Of course, Zoe isn’t like that at all. She’s beautiful, but she wouldn’t fill the journal with drivel on cosmetics and such. However, I’m not about to tell the guys what I saw because it’s private. On the last page was a sketch of me, but not just any sketch. I was laid out, masculine and nude, looking a bit like an art model. My tattoos were rendered in great detail, and there was a fierce look in my eyes. But it wasn’t my expression that got to me. It was the fact that my cock was erect and the size of a thick, pulsing hammer. I was stroking it, and at the very tip, hot beads of liquid pearled before dripping down the sides.
Holy shit, is this was Zoe sees when she looks at me? Suddenly, I know we’re going to have more than a talk. There’s going to be action because I need the curvy girl, and I need her now.
7
Dane
I’m sitting at work flipping through the latest tattoo magazine, but all I’m thinking about are the pencil sketches I saw last night in Zoe’s diary. It was a stroke of luck finding her blue journal on the deck after the party, but hey, at least it was me who found it, and not some random stranger. Because holy shit: those drawings.
Of course, I feel slightly guilty about invading Zoe’s privacy because she never intended for me to see those images. But still. Now that I’ve glimpsed them, my path forward is clear. I want this woman, and evidently, she wants me too.
I’ve been tossing ideas back and forth in my mind all day about how I’m going to confront her.
Do I tell her that I read it? That I really like those sketches? Or do I just give it back and play dumb? How do I even go about seeing Zoe?
I could show up at her house, but that would be weird. Her parents know me, but I’ve never had cause to go to their home before. I could hang around at my parents’ place and I’d surely see Zoe there in little to no time, but then Patty will be attached at her hip. Goddamn little sisters who are like barnacles.
I wish I could just call Zoe up and tell her I have the diary, but I don’t even have her phone number, and Patty would be super weirded out if I asked for her friend’s number. Plus, I’d have to tell her about the diary, which is a big no-no.
A voice pulls me from the battle going on in my mind.
“Everything okay, bud? You’ve been lost in thought all day,” Kate asks. Kate is the receptionist at the tattoo shop, and she’s a big hippie with dreds down to her ass and a dumbbell protruding through the front of her nose. It gives her a bit of a Fred Flintstone-vibe, but in a laid-back, cool way.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Oh really?” she asks with an eyebrow quirked. “Is it a woman? I can tell from the look on your face. Did someone finally stump the great Dane Reston?”
Clearly, our receptionist is wildly intuitive. She’s also a lesbian, thank god, because I don’t think I could have this conversation with a heterosexual woman.
“Nothing gets past you, huh?” I ask wryly. Kate slides her chair briskly across the room to get face to face with me.
“Spill! I want to know all of the details,” she demands, hitching her muumuu up. Large jewelry clacks enthusiastically as she tosses her dreds over one shoulder. I stall.
“There is nothing to be spilled. I haven’t even approached the woman I have on my mind.”
Kate quirks her head at me.
“Really?” she asks. “That doesn’t sound like the Great Dane Reston.”
I snort.
“I hate that nickname.”
She shrugs.
“Yeah, but you are a lady-killer, so it’s stuck over the years. Thank god I’m not after your ass. I wouldn’t be able to take it.”
I merely laugh.
“Yeah, I can’t even imagine.”
Kate shudders.
“Ugh, men. So gross.” But then she perks up. “So what’s next with this mystery lady?”
I shrug.
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even have her number, so what do I do?”
Kate looks shocked.
“No number? Are you serious? Then how did you meet her?”
I smile and shake my head no, but Kate won’t be dissuaded.
“Come on, Great Dane. Why the secrets? This isn’t exactly the CIA.”
My co-worker looks slightly offended that I don’t want to share, but the fact is that I just don’t. It feels private, but I have to throw Kate a bone because otherwise she’ll never get off my back.
“Okay, fine. She’s my little sister’s friend, and I found her diary.”
Immediately, our receptionist is on it.
“Then you have her number.”
I stare at her.
“What are you talking about?”
She looks at me with exasperation.
“Please, guys can be such numb nuts sometimes. Almost all diaries include a place to put your address and contact information, just as a cute “This Belongs To …” type thing. Did you look for that in the front?”
I gaze at Kate with shock, my mouth hanging open. But then it snaps shut, and I reach into my bag for the blue book. When it opens, sure enough, the first page has an inscription with Zoe’s name, address and phone number. Why didn’t I see this before?
“Found it, didn’t you?” Kate asks smugly.
I shake my head with wonder.
“Holy shit. I must have looked at this page a thousand times, but I never saw this, I swear.”
Kate gets up with a smile.
“You can buy me a drink later,” she says graciously. “And you’re welcome.”
But before Kate can get back to reception, I stop her.
“Hey listen, you want to help me more?”
She stops and swivels to face me, her muumuu swinging.
“Not really, but what is it?”
“Well, I don’t really want to call Zoe, or show up at her parents’ house.”
“Parents’ house?” Kate asks, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, this is so wrong.”
I hold a hand up.
“She’s legal, I’m positive. But no, this is where I need your help. Why don’t you call her from High Voltage Tattoo, and confirm her appointment for a consultation this afternoon?”
Kate stares at me.
“She doesn’t have an appointment this afternoon,” my friend says flatly.
“I know,” I respond with confidence. “This way, I’m telling her that I have the book without actually saying it. And she knows I work here, so she’ll know it’s me.”
Kate cocks her head, her dreds swinging gracefully.
“You know, I always thought boys were such a dumb bunch, but you’re pretty smart. Pretty subtle too.”
“So you’re going to do it?” I ask.
She grins cheekily and starts for reception once more.
“Text me her number, and I’ll let you know!” Kate sings. “But you owe me two drinks now.”
I grumble, but of course, I text Zoe’s number to Kate immediately. And from across the room, I hear Kate pick up the phone and call, as if Zoe is just another client. Within a minute, Kate turns around and gives me a thumbs up from her perch.
“Two p.m.,” she mouths.
&
nbsp; Oh shit. I check my phone. It’s noon already, leaving me two hours to get myself together. Conversely, it’s leaving me two hours to wig out about the whole thing.
“Great, see you then, sweetie.” And with that Kate hangs up the phone. “I like her. Quick on her feet,” she says, coming back to my workstation.
I smile.
“Thanks a million, buddy. I owe you a drink.”
Kate smiles mischievously at me again.
“You more than owe me a drink, Dane. You owe me an explanation once this is all over.”
I nod and grin, and my co-worker turns and floats back off to the front. Meanwhile, I get to thinking. What’s going to happen when Zoe arrives? If this were any other girl, I wouldn’t have a worry in the world because my natural style is to just wing it. But for some reason, I’m filled with nerves because this is isn’t just some girl; this is Zoe. She’s utterly luscious, and I have to succeed. I can’t fail because after seeing her sketches, there’s only one way forward for the two of us now.
8
Zoe
I walk into High Voltage Tattoo at 1:55 p.m. with my stomach practically in my throat. I arrived early, but I sat in the parking lot paralyzed by fear for ten minutes. I just barely convinced myself that I can do this. Had I sat for an eleventh minute, I would probably be driving back home right now.
Instead, I stand quivering inside the front door. The lady behind the desk perks up when she sees me, and it seems she knows me already. She’s got long brown dreds and a kind expression.
“Hi, may I help you?” she asks.
“Um, hi. I’m Zoe Canning. I have a consultation with Dane Reston at 2 p.m.?”
She smiles
“Yes, of course.”
Shit. I bet she knows about the drawings too. Why, oh why, did I come here? This is going to be the most embarrassing afternoon of my entire life.
“I’m Kate,” she says, coming around the desk to shake my hand. The woman is extremely tall and smells of patchouli. “I’ll take you in back to find Dane. And there’s no need to be scared of tattoos, darling. I know it can be nerve wracking, but we’ve all been there. This is going to be fine, and you’re in good hands with Dane.”