by Jo Raven
“He did?” Huh. I’ve never seen Ocean upset. Like, ever. He’s always smiling and laughing and cracking jokes. Filing that information to poke at later, I push my plate away. “What about Jesse’s roommates? They’re just so—”
“Kay.” Ev puts down her half-eaten burger and nails me with her gaze. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Only I can lie to Ev even worse than I can lie to myself. “I’m just in a strange funk. Maybe I need to get out, hit the bars tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.” I make puppy eyes at her. “Will you come? Pretty please with sugar on top and ice cream in the middle?”
She laughs. “God, let me check with Micah, okay? One sec.”
She pulls out her cell to text Micah, and I chew absently on another fry. Man, she and Micah are practically married, if she needs to check with him about going out on a Friday night. It makes me a bit uneasy, and I think of my sister and the douchebag she calls her fiancé.
But Ev is happy. Maybe being married is not so bad after all? Is it possible? After leaving home, I swore to never ever consider marriage, and I’m not. Like, ever. Or love. I never even knew there were happily married couples out there in the world.
Not that there’s any reason to worry about that. I’ve been living in Madison for two years, and I haven’t even had a steady boyfriend. And by that I mean that despite my awesome sass, I haven’t even—
“All set.” Ev waves her phone in my face, so close all I see is blurry lines. “It’s a go.”
“Girls’ night out! Woohoo!” A grin splits my face. “I might even convince Amber to unglue herself from Jesse’s hot body for a few hours and join us.”
“You mean Micah can’t come?” Ev’s face falls a little.
Aw hell. “Sure he can. And his friends.” Wait a minute, this is an amazing idea. “Ask the Damage Boyz if they want to join us.”
“I’ll ask.”
I rub my hands together and cackle like a demented old woman, my family and the future forgotten. It’s a plan. If Ocean comes, I could rope him into having his palm read at long last.
And other parts of him. I mean, did you know that the snake is the mark of the Damage Boyz. All five of them have it—Micah, Jesse, Seth, Shane and Ocean. I wonder on what part of his body he had it inked…
Damn, I want to see his snake.
“Hey, Kay…”
“Hm?” I blink, refocusing on the present. “What?”
“Can you read the future in my fries? I want to know if Micah is thinking of proposing…”
“Proposing?” I blink again. What… oh. Oh! All right! “Anything for you, girl. Does that mean maybe that,” I wink, “there’s a bun in the oven? Are you hiding something under that long sweater of yours?”
“Kay!” She snickers. “No. You’d be the first to know. And you’d be making my wedding gown, so you wouldn’t miss it if I was.”
“Okay then. Just FYI, I’m dying to be an auntie. You’d better get hitched soon and make some babies for me to play with.”
Those fries had better give us good news.
***
“How about this?” a disembodied voice asks from behind me, and I jump three feet into the air, scattering my nail polish bottles on the bed. Thank God they’re all still closed.
“Amber, shit. You scared the living crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” She looks like a deer in headlights, blue eyes huge in her pale face. “I just wanted your opinion on my outfit.” She gives her short dress a hard tug.
“Girl, stop that, you’ll destroy your dress. You look amazing.” She does, too. With her dark hair loose and all those luscious curves in all the right places, she’s smoking hot in her short blue dress. “And you know it.”
“I don’t.” She squirms. She’s too much fun to tease. She’s shy and hates going out, hates crowds and noise. I’m touched that she said yes to my invitation tonight without a second thought.
Then again, she has changed quite a bit since she met Jesse. He draws her out of her shell and has made her believe in herself. Made her happy.
“Warning,” I say. “Jesse will be drooling all over you. Just FYI.”
Amber laughs breathlessly. “Shut up.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you! You’d better pack some tissues to wipe his chin just in case.”
She sits beside me on the bed and starts gathering the nail polish bottles. “You’re a crazy woman.”
“But you love me, right? As much as you love Jesse?”
She pats my arm. “I do.”
Yeah right. Grinning, I pick up a metallic fuchsia polish.
I like Jesse. Aside from how handsome he is, he is sweet, and he’s my hero for putting that smile on Amber’s face and that confidence in her eyes. Every girl should date a man who’d put her above all others, cherish every second with her and tell her she’s the only woman in the world for him.
Why am I sighing again? It’s like a disease. Did I catch it from Ev?
I’m not pining for any man, or for love. I’m perfectly fine, trying to figure out what I want. Working toward becoming an independent artist with a circle of really cool friends. Forming a new family, one that understands me.
So why do I have this feeling something big is missing from the picture? I think of Ev and her talk of marriage and children, and my chest constricts.
And then Ocean’s face flashes through my mind, which is really random. He’s handsome, sure, we’ve covered that topic. But being pretty isn’t a factor in the equation.
In fact, there is no such equation at all. I’ve seen how much my parents’ marriage sucks. Two people stuck together day after day, tolerating each other for society’s sake, pretending to be happy.
And deep inside… Deep inside, I realize, I expect every relationship to fail. I watch breathlessly as my friends around me fall in love and move in together and make plans, and I brace myself.
For the moment when it all comes crashing down.
Chapter Two
Ocean
“Come on, cuz,” Seth’s voice is booming from the cubicle next to mine, mingling with the noise of tattoo guns and the background music of the shop. “We haven’t gone out together in ages. It’ll be fun.”
A grunt, then Shane asks, “At what time?”
“What’s the matter, stayed up all night? Girlfriend wore you out?” Seth makes kissy noises. “Oh, yeah, babe, harder. Oh, Shane—”
“Shut up, Seffers.”
But Seth is snickering like a jackass.
I shake my head as I snap on my rubber gloves and get ready for my next customer.
“Ocean had better come,” I hear Micah call from his cubicle. “We are all going. No excuses. Ocean, hear that?”
“Hear what?” I check my tattoo gun, pick a new 0.30-mm needle and install it, then use the nipple to secure it.
I love that name for the little grommet, and no, I didn’t make it up, but I always grin when I think about it.
“You’re coming tonight. Nine o’clock.”
“Yeah? Where to?”
“Halo, of course. To start with.”
“How fucking original.”
Micah sticks his ugly mug inside my cubicle and waggles his brows. “Guess who’s the mastermind behind tonight’s outing?”
“Oh gee, lemme guess.” I pretend to think as I check my inks. “You?”
“Try again.” Micah scrubs a hand through his blond hair, leaving it standing up in spikes. “It’s someone pretty. Someone you like.”
“Shit. If I organized this myself, then why can’t I remember?”
“Moron.” Micah gives me the finger and steps away. “It was Kayla, Amber’s roommate. You know, the cute one who always wants to read people’s horoscopes and stuff?”
As if I don’t know who she is.
I know perfectly well.
She hangs out with us sometimes, and I really dig the way she laughs, and the crazy colors she sports, from her hair
to her clothes to her nail polish. She’s like a rainbow, and the thought of being near her is both exciting and nerve-wracking.
Which is weird. I don’t get all twisted up over chicks. I’m not shy, and the only reason my dick hasn’t seen any real action lately is work and family stress.
There’s something about Kayla, though, and I can’t decide if it’s her weird hobby of telling people’s fortunes or the fact she is kinda cute. Kinda hot, in fact. Long legs, a great rack and a pretty face. Her mouth is like candy. I wanna lick it and taste it.
And dammit, now I’m hard. So not good with a customer about to walk in. So not good when it’s about Kayla, a sweet girl and good friend of my friends.
Shit.
She’d never want me, riffraff from a family wreckage washed up on the shore of Madison, a ghost with a hidden past who’s about to pull a fucking disappearing act. I shouldn’t be thinking about her. She deserves better.
I mean, that’s easy. Anyone’s a better catch than me.
***
It’s late by the time I finish with my last customer. I tidy up my station, check that nobody is around to see me and then sit on my stool for a damn long moment, rubbing my hands over my face.
So tired. It comes with living two lives, I guess, as far apart from each other as the sun and the moon. One is like a dream, happy and free and fucking good, and the other… the other is a nightmare.
On top of that, it’s time I checked on my little brother, see how he’s doing, and oh boy, I can’t wait for his warm welcome.
I’m not giving up, though. I will get through to him somehow. Someday he will forgive me, and everything will be fucking okay again. As okay as it can be. I’m not delusional. But my patience, and my hope and my goddamn sanity are reaching a breaking point.
It’s been years. And Mom’s getting worse…
Pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I hop off the stool and turn to go, only to stop short.
Someone is standing at the door of my cubicle, arms folded over a broad chest, dark hair standing in spikes.
Seth.
Damn. I could have sworn everyone was gone and that I was the only person left in the shop. To be honest, I’ve been kinda avoiding him. I have this suspicion that he wants to talk to me, and man, that’s the last thing I want.
“What are you doing here?” I grab my wallet from the counter, stuff it in my back pocket. “I thought you left with Shane.”
“I’m your Ghost of Christmas Past,” Seth says, one dark brow raised. “I’ve come to collect your debts and spank your ass.”
I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. “That didn’t really rhyme. And I didn’t know you swung that way.”
“I only swing in the breeze on nudist beaches.” Seth leans over my counter, prods at a snow globe of New York a customer left me once. “Hm.”
“Is there a reason for this unusual form of sexual harassment at my work place?”
“We could move it elsewhere if you like. To Halo, for instance.”
“What, you mean to say you waited here for me, lurking in the shadows of the shop, to drag me off to party? Not that it’s shady, stalkerish behavior or anything.”
“I dunno.” He shrugs. “Micah said you sometimes drive off on Friday evenings, not telling anyone where you vanish to, and I decided to make sure it won’t happen tonight. I need to talk to you.”
There you go. Thank God Micah hasn’t told him where I go on the weekends. He’s the only one here who knows. “Anything special about tonight that I’m not supposed to miss?”
“Want me to invent something? Do you need an excuse to have a drink with us?”
“Fuck you, Seth.”
He grins widely. “Who’s doing the sexual harassing now?”
“Jesus.” I grab my jacket. “Let’s go, shall we?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Seth makes a show of linking our arms together, and I’d punch him if not for the fact I’m scared of injuring him. One of his shoulders was dislocated so many times it may need surgery if hurt again, and I can’t even remember how many bones he has broken over the past year.
So I endure, and let him drag me out to my pickup truck, an old, rusty Chevy. We climb inside and head off to Halo. He hums to himself, tapping a rhythm on his leg, a serious expression on his face, and I accelerate, hoping to reach our destination before he asks me whatever it is that’s been on his mind.
“Look,” Seth says, and I know it’s too fucking late, the interrogation is about to start, “I know it’s none of my fucking business, but—”
Something slams into us from behind, throwing us forward in our seatbelts. The wheel jerks under my hands, and I struggle to control it.
“Oh fuck.” Seth groans, gripping the dashboard. “Not again.”
But I end up straightening the car, and nobody’s hurt, although Seth’s face is white as a sheet. Thankfully the street in front of us is empty, but by the time I manage to park the pickup at the curb and glance in the side mirrors, whoever slammed into us is long gone.
***
“Someone rammed you from behind? Are you fucking kidding me?” Micah glances from me to Seth and back, eyes wide, and his grin turns into a grimace. “You’re not kidding me, are you? Jesus Christ.”
We head inside Halo, and I’m glad when Micah slings an arm around Seth’s shoulders, because the guy is still kinda shaky. After everything that went down this past year, it’s no wonder. He seems to draw violence and accidents to him like a flame does to moths.
“Are you guys okay?” Micah says and lifts his other hand to wave at someone. Shane approaches, a dark frown on his face, Cassie by his side.
“What the fuck’s going on here?” he demands. “What happened?”
“Just an accident,” I mutter, “and we’re fi—”
“Is Seth okay?”
“Seth!” A slight, dark-haired girl dives on Seth, hugging him tightly, forcing Micah to let him go. That’d be his girlfriend, Manon. “What happened? Did you hurt yourself? Are you all right?”
Amused, I watch as she proceeds to check him from head to toe even as he protests he’s fine.
Amused and somewhat wistful. Can’t remember the last time a woman cared about how I am, last time a woman was worried about me. Mom sure as hell never did.
Dammit. Why am I thinking of this now? I turn away, trying to compose myself. What’s this strange weight on my chest? Don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me these days.
Tired, I tell myself again. Just tired. For too many damn reasons to count.
“Did you check the damage to your truck?” Micah asks, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me. “How bad is it?”
“Bumper’s dented. Can’t tell what else is wrong.” Fuck, I need to put my game face on. Rubbing a hand over my aching ribs, I take a deep breath and turn back toward the guys. “I’ll check it tomorrow when the light’s good.”
Shit, I really hope there’s no major damage. I guess I should call my insurance company. I can barely afford the old truck as it is, and dammit, I need it running.
“I may be bruised in other places, you know,” Seth is saying, holding his girl to him so tight their bodies mesh into one, but I can see the flush on her face as he goes on. “You should give me a full-body check.”
“Seth, you jerk, I’m serious.” She wraps her arms around his neck.
“So am I.”
Looks like Seth is fully distracted. He probably won’t be staying late tonight. Thank fuck he’s off my case. I could use a break right about now.
“Come on, first round’s on me,” Micah says, and yeah, this sounds more like it.
Get drunk off my ass. Forget about chicks and dirty sex. Brain has to switch off or implode.
I follow him through the familiar din and low lights of the bar to the back, to our usual table. People jostle me on the way, and Christ, my ribs ache. I remember the seatbelt digging into my flesh from the impact of the collision.
I trace the outline from my shoulder across my chest and fucking ow.
Awesome. This will take more alcohol than initially thought.
As Micah heads off to the bar to get our drinks, I take in the table. There is Jesse and Amber in deep discussion, heads bent together. Cassie, who’s sitting with Ev and Kayla, waves at me.
“You’re late!” Kayla shouts over the music and the noise, a huge smile splitting her face. “Come sit with us.”
She pats the empty chair beside her, and I hesitate.
Never hesitated before. But then I grin at her and see the light in her eyes brighten. “Hey, Kay.”
“Hey yourself. What’s up?”
I shrug. “Nothing new.”
“Come on, Mr. Storm, what’s with the long face? Need me to tickle your ribs for you to crack a smile, or aren’t you happy to see me?”
“’Course I’m happy.”
She smiles at me and my grin widens, like her smile is some sort of weird drug. A pretty dose of Xanax, packaged in a pretty face and a hot, curvy body.
“We’re talking about the Fast and Furious movies,” she says. “You like those, right? Come on. I know you have an opinion about the visual effects.”
“Yeah.” I do like those movies, because of a past I can’t put behind me, but right now I can’t help glancing from her soft mouth to her tits and back.
Jesus, Ocean. Get a grip.
But my dick is rock hard and throbbing. A sudden visual of kissing Kayla, grinding my hard-on against her hits me like a bullet, and I jerk guiltily.
No, goddammit. This is the mother of all bad ideas. Counting in my head backward from one hundred, I will my hard-on to subside.
To buy myself time, I pull off my jacket and drape it on the back of the chair. Shane, Seth and Manon arrive and settle around the table, looking kinda grim, and I wonder if Seth is really okay or if he’s downplaying an injury he hasn’t told anyone about.
He’s good at hiding such things. After all the broken bones and dislocated joints and surgery he’s been through in the past year, I really fucking hope he hasn’t suffered anything serious this time.
He seems all right, though. He winks at Manon, snickers at something Shane says. Relief washes through me.