Tattoos and Angels

by Casey McMillin

  My main objective was to stare at my screen and be totally unaffected by his work out. That was what I thought would happen until he actually started working out. One glance at him lifting weights had me stunned. I could not take my eyes from him. I told myself that as long as neither of them glanced at me, I could continue to watch. I had no other choice, though. My eyes simply would not obey when I told them to look away.

  He and the guy he was training with joked about something before starting another round. Angel had a long, wavy bar in his hands with weights on each end that he hefted over his head and began lifting it up and down again and again. I was staring at his back, which was the area that was obviously getting the workout. His muscles stretched and changed shape as he flexed and strained under the heavy weights. It was utterly mesmerizing. He set the weights down again, but this time, right after he did, he glanced right at me. I immediately and guiltily shifted my focus to the side, and almost smiled at how silly I must have looked. Because of that, I looked back at Angel, who was smiling broadly at me.

  I widened my eyes. "What?" I said, mouthing the word.

  "I can see you in the mirror," was what I thought he mouthed back, but I wasn't sure until he gestured to the wall he'd been facing, which I could now see, held a huge mirror.

  I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks, and I wished it away as hard as I could. I knew I'd been gawking, and was horrified at being caught. His smile was enough to make me feel a little better though. He looked as if he were really enjoying the fact that I'd been watching him, and I smiled at his smile before focusing on my phone.

  There was no way I was going to get into a text conversation with my mom in the shaken up state I was in, so I decided to go straight to YouTube. I was still jittery as I typed in the search bar for the tutorial on sewing ruffles.

  It was three or four minutes before I risked a glance up at Angel, who had moved onto something else. His back was being worked in this one too, and I watched for a few seconds before looking back down. He was facing a different direction, but I had to assume there were mirrors all over this place, so I looked back at my phone right away. I glanced up several times during the next fifteen minutes, but never watched him for very long.

  "Hey, you ready?" he said.

  I smiled at him as I put my phone in my bag. "After watching your workout, I'm not so sure I'm gonna be able to do this."

  I only said it because I wanted to own up to being caught watching him. I didn't really give a dang about the workout. Right about then, I had enough adrenaline to get through anything.

  He smiled at me and stretched a dark grey, athletic shirt over his head and wiggled into it. "You'll do great," he said. He took me to an area of the gym that was off to the side. There were thick mats covering the floor in that section, and he made me take off my shoes. "You're not doing weights today," he explained. "At least not the stuff you saw me doing. We'll do some light training, but I'm gonna ask you some questions and see where you're at."

  "I'm basically at the place where you don't work out, besides the few times I've gone with Megan to walk Thor."

  "How do you manage to look like this then?" he asked.

  I let out a humorless laugh, thinking about Mike pinching my muffin top. "I know I need a little help," I said.

  "That's why I'm here."

  He warmed me up, stretched me out, and asked me a ton of questions. By the time we were halfway through the workout, sweat and friction started burning my not-quite-healed tattoo. I had my hands on the floor, and my legs were propped up on one of those gigantic, air-filled workout balls. He had me tucking my legs in and extending them out again for three sets of ten. It was meant to work out my abs, but the movement and the sting of the sweat burned my new tattoo, making me cringe.

  "What's the matter?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I said. "At least nothing with the workout. I'm just healing a tattoo right now, and I'm almost sure I'm not supposed to be catching a sweat like this." I smiled. "Gotta do whatcha gotta do to get in shape, though."

  "Where'd you get a tattoo?"

  "At Triple-A. That place I was telling you about."

  "I mean where on your body."

  "Oh, my leg." I was still supporting my weight by my arms, and the effort was making me a bit winded as I carried on the conversation.

  "What is it?"

  "A fish," I said.

  He smiled at the back of my leg as if he was trying to picture it.

  "Am I done with these?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said. Reaching out to steady the ball so I could get down gracefully. "We can be done for the day if you need to go take care of your tattoo."

  "Are you sure I've done enough?"

  "You're good. You did more than I thought you'd be able to on the first day. Can I see the tattoo?"

  "What?"

  "The tattoo. Can I see it?"

  "What? I mean, I have a boyfriend."

  He gave me that easy grin that made me wonder how he was always so composed.

  "I didn't ask that. I only asked to see your fish."

  "It's still healing."

  "Oh, so you won't let me see it?"

  He stood there and stared at me, and I wasn't sure what to say.

  "I guess you can see it if you want, but it's still healing right now, so it's not gonna look right," I said, as I drew my shorts up so he could get a look. I intentionally stopped shy of the top of the shark, but he used a finger to urge my hand upward.

  "I can't see."

  Some silent seconds passed.

  "Is that a…"

  I dropped my shorts before he could get out the question. I turned to face him and stared up at him defiantly. I should have backed it up by saying something, but I just stood there.

  His eyebrows rose slowly. "Is that a hammerhead shark on the back of your leg, Charlotte?"

  "Maybe."

  Chapter 12

  Angel stared at me for a good, long time after he saw the hammerhead shark on my leg. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to make of it.

  "Are you still dating that guy?" he asked.

  "Yes," I answered quickly.

  Things were good with Connor, and I felt guilty about everything I'd already let happen with Angel. I was determined not to cheat, but it was extremely difficult to even look at Angel without remembering the things that happened between us. I could easily conjure up the feel of his lips on mine. That was one thing that was better with Angel than Connor for sure. Connor wasn't a bad kisser, but Angel's style of kissing matched my own.

  "…do you?" he asked, as if he'd already asked something else.

  I'd been lost in thought and hadn't heard the original question.

  "I was asking if you needed to use the shower. If so, you'll find them in the ladies room right next to the lockers."

  "I'm good. I'll just take one at home."

  "I'm leaving too. Can I walk you to your car?"

  I thought that was reasonable. "Sure, thanks."

  I waited in the lobby while he ran to get his duffel bag. He was wearing sweatpants that rode low on his hips and a T-shirt that showed every curve of his muscular body. He was a big guy, but not so muscular that it looked unnatural. He was tall and lean with solid arms and chest that I stared at as he walked across the lobby with a bag slung over his shoulder.

  "Bye Lori," he said, looking at the lady behind the desk as he set a piece of paper in front of her.

  "Is this Charlotte's?"

  "Yes."

  "You good with me marking it as Cat's session?"

  "I already told Cat that was okay."

  She smiled at him adoringly. "Bye Angel," she said.

  "It seems like they all really like you," I said as the door closed behind us.

  He set the pace and we walked slowly as we headed out the front door. We started out on the sidewalk that would eventually take us around the building to the parking lot.

  "It's not my life's dream to work at Maison Blanc
," I said, feeling like I needed to explain. "I'm only doing it to pay for a bunch of ink I want done. My job at the fabric store barely covers living expenses. I love tattoos and I want to get them while I'm young. I figure this is the only way I can afford it. And at least I'm not dancing, right?"

  "I don't really know what you're doing since I've never been there. None of the girls have mentioned being a cigar girl. I don't even know what that is."

  "Well, it's not as bad as you're imagining. Believe it or not, it's a nice place."

  "It should be. Mike drives a Maybach."

  "I guess that's an expensive car."

  "Very expensive."

  I shrugged and sighed. "It's not an ideal situation for me. If I could do something else and make as much, I would."

  "Believe me, I know about not being able to make money fast enough. It seems like I never stop between the fishing business and this place and it somehow still slips out of my hands."

  "I just watched some slip out of your hands in there with Cat," I said.

  "I'm not talking about that small money," he said. "I don't mind working hard, but I guess I just thought it'd be easier to make big money over here."

  "Why do you need big money?" I asked. "You saving up for a car?"

  "No, I have a nice company truck," he said. "Tom's really good to me and really fair with what he pays me. The gym is fair too." He thought about it for a second. "I guess I just thought based on stories I heard about Tom that I'd get on a ship with him and go treasure hunting or something."

  "Treasure hunting is exactly what I need to do," I said, thinking of all the thousands of dollars I wanted to spend on ink.

  "What's your boyfriend think of it?" he asked.

  The question surprised me. "Of what—my tattoos or my job?"

  "I was talking about the job, but I'm curious about both."

  "He likes my tattoos, and honestly he doesn't seem to mind or care about my job. I couldn't believe it. He assumed I'd be dancing when I told him I wanted to work there, and he didn't even seem to mind about that.

  Angel put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

  "What?" I asked.

  "I just can't imagine being okay with that."

  "With what—me dancing, or working there in general?"

  "Both. Either. I'd pay for your tattoos to keep you from doing that if it were me."

  "He got me a gift certificate for a hundred dollars."

  "That's not gonna do shit."

  I laughed. "I know. I'm right over here," I said gesturing to my car, (a small, tan Toyota I inherited from my mom). He slowed almost to a stop as we approached it.

  "I would never tell Tom this, but I didn't come here to get to know him and check out the states. I came because there were some people I needed to get away from. I'm sorry there's not a nicer way to put it because I think you'll probably not like me after this, but I grew up in a gang situation. I tried to end my association with these people, but for complicated reasons that aren't my fault, I owe them money. I have to pay this money back before I can break ties with them. I came to America thinking I would find some treasure with my famous pirate father." He offered me a smile, but I could tell he was frustrated. "Tom has been very good to me, but honestly I made almost as much money working at the gym in Puerto Rico as I do here. Of course the house is nicer than any house I've ever been to and I drive a nice truck. I'm not complaining."

  "I have a little money saved up from when I lived with my parents and a little graduation money too. How much do you owe them?"

  "Sixty thousand."

  I tried not to act shocked, but I was not expecting him to say a figure that large. "Angel, that's a lot of money."

  He laughed. "I know." His smile faded. "It's not happening as fast as I thought it would. I think I'm gonna have to go back home and work something out with those guys, I haven't mentioned it to Tom or my brothers yet."

  "You're leaving?" I asked. I couldn't help the sting of sadness and dread that hit me at that thought. I physically flinched as I waited to hear what he'd say.

  "I'll probably have to. I think I have it worked out where if I do one last thing for them, I can clear my debt."

  "And then you'll come back here?"

  He shrugged. "There will be no reason for me to come back, really. My life will be good in Puerto Rico once I can be done with these guys. I can just work at the gym over there. That way I can be close to my mother if she needs me."

  "I thought Tom was gonna help you open your own place here."

  "We talked about it, but I need this money fast, and starting a gym isn't gonna get it for me."

  "Why can't you just tell Tom about your problem? Maybe he can give you the money."

  "There's no good way to ask for that kind of money," he said. "If I did, he'd know I only came here to get it, and I can't do that to him."

  I sat there and thought about his dilemma for a few seconds. "Do you have to do something that could get you in trouble?"

  He looked at me with a deadpan expression that forced me to reconsider my question.

  "I think it's worth it to hurt Tom's feelings if it means getting you out of trouble."

  "No it's not—especially since I have no idea if he even has that kind of capitol on hand. It seems like he would, but he's pretty quiet about his business dealings."

  "Man, I wish he was the kind of pirate who would take us with him to dig up a treasure chest on a beach somewhere and split the loot with us."

  "Booty," he said.

  "Call it what you want, but finding that treasure would totally solve our problems, wouldn't it?"

  "Yours isn't really a problem, you know."

  I looked abashed. He was absolutely right.

  "You're right. You need the treasure way worse than I do."

  "I wish I could find it for both of us," he said.

  "You'd pay for my tattoos?"

  "Of course I would. I definitely wouldn't let you go to work at that place, and if paying for your tattoos is what would stop you, then yes."

  "I can't believe you refer to it as that place. It's really not that bad. It's just a gentleman's club."

  "Those guys aren't gentlemen."

  "I've talked to a lot of the girls. They all love it there and say they never get hassled."

  Angel put his hands up in surrender. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time. It's none of my business." He smiled. "The tattoos look good on you, and I can understand why you'd want to get them."

  I let out a defeated sigh. "Truth is I don't really like it. If getting tattooed wasn't so expensive, I'd never even think about that job. It's not really a typical place for a virgin to work, I'm sure."

  "What virgin?"

  "Me."

  He stared at me as if I was speaking Greek, so I repeated myself. "It's probably a weird job choice for a virgin, which is what I am."

  "You're not a virgin."

  My expression said, how dare you. "I most certainly am."

  "I thought you told me you tried it and didn't like it."

  "I didn't like the things I tried, but none of them were the actual…" I cut off and widened my eyes, so he'd know what I was talking about.

  "But the other night, you assumed that I was going to…" he trailed off, thinking. "Oh, you were probably too drunk to even remember that."

  "No I wasn't," I said.

  He gave me a questioning glance. "It seemed like you were about to let me—"

  "I was. I would have."

  He put his hand over his face and breathed in a long sigh.

  "What?"

  "I don't know. I honestly don't know what to think about that. It might be simultaneously the best and worst thing I've ever done." He paused. "What about your boyfriend?"

  "We're not having sex. We haven't yet."

  Angel just stared at me with an unreadable expression. The corner of his mouth turned up in a little half smile as his eyes roamed over my face. "I know you have a boyfriend and I'm le
aving soon and probably never coming back, but I just want you to know that I really feel like there could have been something between us."

  We stared at each other for several seconds. The heat between us was palpable. I felt like his eyes could literally melt me—like I was in danger of turning to a pool of goo at any second.

  He broke the eye contact, and smiled as he said, "Maybe in another life."

  This was a regrettable conversation.

  I really hated getting the news that he would be moving soon. It made me sadder than it should have. I felt an ache in my chest at the thought of not having him here, which only served to confuse me about Connor.

  "This life's confusing enough," I said.

  He let out a frustrated sigh in agreement. "That's so true."

  "I wish there was a way to say this without confusing you or me or both of us, but I'm really sad at the thought of you leaving, Angel." Tears began stinging my eyes. I could feel them about to spill over, and I begged myself not to let it happen. My eyes continued to burn and fill with tears until a few of them fell onto my cheek. I looked inside my purse as a distraction. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or anything. I know you have to do what you have to do. I should probably just shut up, but when you said you were moving, I just felt really sad about it." My voice broke up near the end of what I was saying, and I dropped my car keys on purpose to give myself something else to do besides burst into tears. When I stood up, he caught me up in his arms, which took my breath away. I gasped and stiffened, but quickly noticed him smiling, and couldn't help but return it even though tears stained my cheeks.

  He shook me by the waist, causing me to giggle. "Are you crying because I said I was moving?"

  "Yes," I said, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand, "that's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm being a big baby about it. Why are you smiling like that?"

  "Because you got a hammerhead tattoo and now you're crying because I’m leaving." He hesitated before saying, "You like me."