by Staci Hart
“Ha. Not fucking likely, but that’s a nice thought.” I took a sip of my coffee.
“Seriously. If the two of you would just get out of your own way, you’d be fine.”
I frowned. “That’s not really fair, Lily. You guys love to talk about it like we’re being irrational, but we have reasons for every decision we’ve made. It’s not as simple as you like to pretend it is.”
Her face softened. “No, I know. We just want you two to get back together and be okay. You’re miserable without each other, and it’s not easy to watch. So I’m glad you got naked.”
Ellie nodded as she chewed and swallowed. “I always approve of getting naked.”
I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
She waggled her copper eyebrows.
“So what’s up with Max?” I asked.
She beamed. “He’s just amazing, that’s all.” She lowered her spoon into her bowl and moved it around absently. “A total freak in bed, but sweet and funny too. Plus, Valentino loves him, and he thinks he’s better than everyone.”
The gigantic black cat jumped on the kitchen counter at the mention of his name and pranced across it, one white paw in front of the other, head high like he was telling us exactly what he thought of any rules we might have of him doing otherwise.
“Anyway,” Ellie continued, “I’m going up to see him at the shop today. You guys should come with me.” She took a bite of cereal.
“Are you just going for lunch or what?” I asked.
She shook her head as she swallowed. “No, to get my nipples pierced.”
Lily choked on her coffee, then burst out laughing along with me.
“Oh, my God, El.”
“I don’t get what the big deal is,” she said with a shrug and took another bite.
“It’s not at all,” Lily replied. “It’s just funny that you care so little what other people think.”
“Whatever. Life’s too short to try to meet someone else’s expectations. I have zero secrets, and I like it that way. Take it or leave it, bitches!” she crowed to the universe. “Anyway, you should seriously come with.”
Lily took a sip of her coffee. “I can’t. West and I are going to the library.”
Ellie laughed. “Oooh, hot date. Bang in the erotica aisle for me, would you?”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Don’t dare her. She’ll do it. Besides, they’ve been banging everywhere else, anyway.”
“Hey,” Lily said, mock-hurt. “Not everywhere, just all the time. It’s different.”
“Tell Patrick that.”
Her cheeks flushed when she smiled. “Seems like he’s got his hands full now anyway.”
“Seems that way.” I took a drink coyly and turned to Ellie. “I’ll go with you, El. I have to work at six, though.”
She lit up. “Ooh, you should get yours done too.”
I held up a hand. “Pass.”
“Max said it doesn’t hurt all that bad.”
“I’ll take his word for it.”
Ellie chuckled and picked up her phone. “I’ll let Max know we’re coming. Maybe we can all go get lunch afterward.”
“Sure, if you’re not passed out,” I joked. “If nothing else, we can go get a drink. You might need that more.”
She giggled. “Probably.” Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. “Max said Tricky looks like he won the lottery.”
“I bet he does,” Lily said.
I smiled. “I can’t deny I’m a catch. Let’s just see if he can hang on to me, this time.”
21
PINS AND NEEDLES
Rose
I GLANCED OVER ELLIE AS we walked toward Tonic that afternoon in the glorious summer sun. “Nervous?”
She shrugged and pushed her red hair over her shoulder. “Not really. I feel a little … I don’t know, intense?”
We stepped off the curb and crossed the street with a stream of pedestrians. “Adrenaline. I get that before I get a tattoo. But nipple piercing? That’s next level. I’d be crawling out of my skin.”
“I really think you should get yours done too.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“I bet Tricky would love it,” she coaxed hopefully.
I smiled, imagining his reaction if I told him I wanted to do it. “Maybe he would, but I’m admittedly way too much of a pussy to let anyone near my nipples with a fourteen-gauge.”
“But you have tattoos. That’s got to be worse, right?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s different. Like, it just stings. You don’t get stabbed with a gigantic needle, just grazed by a tiny one.”
“Max said just hurts for a second. I bet it’s a long ass second, but still.” She perked up. “Are Tricky’s nipples pierced?”
I wet my lips and pursed them. “Mmhmm.”
“Anything else?”
I smiled down at my shoes as I stepped back onto the sidewalk. “Mmmhmm.”
She giggled. “Tell me it’s his dick, please.”
“It’s his dick, please.”
Ellie squealed. “Oh, my God. I forgot. I’ve always wondered what that’s like.”
“Uh, awesome. Duh.” I rolled my eyes, joking.
She was excited, eyes big and smiling. “He doesn’t have anything crazy though, right? Like a Jacob’s Ladder? I can’t imagine getting one piercing there, never mind like eight. And not just because I don’t have a dick.”
“It’s called a dolphin. Like a Prince Albert but with a longer bar, so it goes from that part under his crown down his shaft like two inches.”
“Fuck.” She shuddered, whether from imagining the pain or thinking about how hot it was, I didn’t know. Maybe both. “Ugh, but I can totally imagine he has that. Does he have a pretty dick?”
I laughed. “God, Ellie.”
“What? I couldn’t see it when you walked in on him in the shower. Trust me, I tried. Anyway, cousins don’t let cousins get down on ugly dick, pierced or not.”
I sighed. “No, it’s basically the supermodel of dicks, just like the rest of him.”
“Does the piercing make it more fun to go down on him?”
“For sure. Like there’s all this stuff to do with it.”
She laughed. “I never got girls who bitch about blow jobs. If you hate giving blow jobs, you’re doing it wrong.”
I raised the roof. “Preach.”
“I mean, I’d figure most guys don’t want to just fuck your bored mouth. Think about it — it’d be the equivalent of a guy who goes down on you and gives it some half-assed, obligatory lick or two before he jams his rod in. The worst! That’s an instant dump situation. You gotta get in there and get weird on it. I mean, not too weird, but you know what I mean. If it feels good for you, it feels good for them.”
“Blow jobs: 101.”
She nodded seriously. “I should teach a class.”
I snickered. “I mean, it’s bad if there’s a hygiene problem. Like, wash your balls, bro. And if you have four-inch pubes, I’m not going to want to go downtown and tour the Chrysler Building. Do a little manscaping. Not too much, because bald dicks are weird too. But a little trim goes a long way.”
“I’m sure it’s the same for guys, though. And our junk is way more offensive than theirs. Sometimes, I even offend myself.”
“It really isn’t fair, is it?”
“Fuck you, nature!” she shouted, and the lady in front of us shot a dirty look at us over her shoulder.
We busted out laughing.
I pulled open the door to Tonic, and we were greeted by the heavy guitar licks of Death From Above 1979. The guy’s voice sounded like sex. On ice cream. Drowning in chocolate.
I’d always loved the shop — it looked dark and old while still modern, with a hint of creep about it. The mirrors were all old and spotted around the edges. There were things like a shadow box displaying small animal skulls, and what looked to be a very old Ouija board hanging
on the wall. The waiting area was filled with furniture from the 1800s that had been painted with skulls and butterflies that looked like old wood cuttings. And it always smelled faintly of spices — cardamom and anise, maybe a hint of orange. I don’t know what kind of witchy brew Joel had going on, but he should have bottled and sold it.
Max stood from his booth toward the back, and Ellie giggled and took off, leapt into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Some serious tongue action ensued, and I shook my head, smiling as I looked to Joel, who was laughing.
“Hey, Rosie.” He stepped out from behind the counter and gave me a hug. “Twice in one week. What’d I do to get so lucky?”
I chuckled and gave him a squeeze. Or at least I tried. He was like a gigantic lumberjack, barrel chest and all. “Hey, Joel.”
Patrick stood, smiling at me as he approached. “Hey.” He stopped close to me, and I looked up at him, momentarily stunned, waiting for him to kiss me.
His eyes darted to my lips, and he wet his own with a small slip of his tongue, looking back at my eyes as he shifted away from me. But he smiled, and that smile told me plenty.
Pretty sure mine matched.
“Hey,” I said.
“Here for Ellie’s piercing?”
“I couldn’t let her do that without some solid moral support. She tried to convince me to do it too, but I draw the line at piercing needles.”
He chuckled.
“How’s your day?”
“Better now.”
I smiled and looked away, not sure how to respond. I was overwhelmed, feeling like I shouldn’t have come, but also like I wanted touch him, kiss him, do something to tell him I’d meant what I said. That I wasn’t going to throw on the brakes just yet.
Ellie’s feet finally hit the ground again, and she adjusted her shirt, smiling at me. “Did you want to come back with me?”
“Do you want me to come back?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Kinda.”
“Then I’m there.” I smiled at Patrick. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck,” he said with a smirk.
I followed Ellie and Max back to one of the rooms in the back and closed the door behind me. The rooms looked like a Victorian torture parlor — purple velvet damask walls, all the hardware black, even the tray, which was covered in plastic covered tools that stood just next to the padded blood-red leather inclined table.
“All right, babe. Hop up here and take your shirt off.” Max patted the seat, and Ellie did as she was told with rosy cheeks and doe eyes as she pulled her shirt off and lost her bra, tossing them on the chair in the corner without hesitating. He washed his hands, put on black rubber gloves, and grabbed a Sharpie, looking very serious as he examined her nipples and marked her where he’d pierce her.
The room was silent, and I stared at the pattern on the wall to keep me from also examining her nipples.
Max turned and looked at the mirrored wall. “How’s that look?”
Ellie tilted her head, shifting her shoulders to get a good look. “Uh, I don’t know. I guess that looks fine.”
He smiled. “It’s gonna look great. Lie down.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she reached for my hand. I kept my eyes on hers as best I could.
What? Ellie has great tits. Plus, when boobs are out, there’s no way not to look. It’s just a fact.
Max came back with a huge clamp. “Okay, now, this is almost going to be worse than the needle. You ready?”
She gripped my hand, the first flicker of worry passing across her face. She nodded.
He opened the monstrous clamps and lined the markings up in the holes. “Take a breath, El.”
She did, but her face blanched when he closed the clamps, squashing her nipple until it looked almost nothing like a nipple.
“Good girl. You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” was all she could eek out.
“Rose, could you hold this?” He motioned to the clamp handles as he removed his fingers.
“Uh …”
“Just for a second. Here.”
I slipped my fingers in just as he let go. And there I was, holding my cousin’s nipple clamp in the back room of a tattoo parlor.
I felt a little lightheaded myself when he turned around with the gigantic hollow needle.
There was a reason why I didn’t have piercings.
Max got eye level with the clamp, checking it one more time to make sure it was straight before he commandeered it from me.
“Okay. Take two or three deep breaths, and keep your eyes on the ceiling. You ready?”
“No, but do it anyway,” she said.
He smiled. “That’s my girl. Okay. One … two … three.”
Her hand squeezed, and I looked down, which was a mistake. My eyelids were glued open as I watched him push that big ass needle through her nipple. Blood dripped down the side of her breast.
I was hot, so hot. Sweat rolled down my back, and my face tingled. “I don’t feel so good,” I mumbled, the room going dim.
“Oh, shit. Tricky!” I heard Max yell as my vision faded, and a strong set of arms caught me before I hit the ground like a sack of bricks.
When I woke a few minutes later, Patrick’s face was the first thing I saw, dark brows bent in worry, blue eyes burning with concern. I lay stretched out on his chair, feeling dizzy. Something cold pressed against the nape of my neck, and it felt amazing.
“Hey,” Patrick said softly, smiling down at me. “Don’t sit up yet.”
“I fainted.”
“You did.”
I sighed, closing my eyes again as I shifted. “I am officially the coolest.”
He chuckled. “You aren’t the first person to hit the deck in here. It happens every day.”
I cracked a lid and raised a brow. “Have you ever passed out getting modded?”
He smirked. “I like to watch.”
“You’re really sick, you know that?”
He handed me a tiny box of apple juice. “Here. Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
I took it and drank a little just as Ellie materialized next to me, eyes wide. She touched my arm and peered at me. “Oh, my God, Rosie. Are you okay?”
I smiled. “I’m fine” I nodded to her chest. “Are you?”
“Hell yeah. But thank God Max took the clamp away from you before you fainted, because I never would have forgiven you if you’d ripped my nipple off.”
I chuckled and sipped my apple juice. “So are you all finished?”
She lit up. “Uh-huh! Check it out!” She lifted up her shirt to display her naked boobs. We were about ten feet from the street window, where I noticed one guy do a double take before skidding to a stop.
A laugh shot out of me. “Uh, they look great, El, but maybe you should put them away.”
She lowered her shirt, still beaming. “That was fucking awesome. It hurt like a bitch though.”
“I can only imagine. Actually, I did imagine, and it made me faint, so you just got serious badass points in my book.” I looked over at Patrick. “I feel a little better. Can I sit now?”
“Sure.” He grabbed my arm as I sat, and I used his weight to pull myself up.
I closed my eyes and ran a hand through my hair with a sigh.
When I opened them, Patrick was watching me. “Are you sure you still want to get lunch?”
I did the classic body assessment, checking all my parts — including my stomach — and found them intact. “Yeah. I should probably eat something, anyway. What are we thinking?”
“Tacos,” Ellie said definitively.
I almost moaned, and my mouth watered. “Tacos. How about El Corazon? They make their own tortillas, which is the equivalent of taco unicorns in New York. If they’d only stay open twenty-four hours, my life would be made.”
Patrick leaned against his desk. “I’m in.”
“Good,” I said as I lifted myself off the chair, but the second my feet hit the ground, my knees went out from under me, an
d I was falling again, straight into Patrick.
“Whoa,” he muttered and stood to catch me, pulling me into his chest. I looked up at him, and he looked down — our noses were inches from each other. My breath froze as I waited for him to kiss me, my eyes on his lips, but instead of meeting mine, they smiled, and he hugged me tighter, lowering his face to my ear. “I’ll give you that later, Rosie.”
If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have hit the ground again because my knees were no longer functioning joints.
But then again, Patrick always did have that effect on me.
Patrick
I’d been back at the shop for a few hours after lunch as I hunched over my desk, sketching as I waited for my last client. I smiled down at the paper, thinking about the feeling of her hand in mine as we walked to El Corazon, her thigh against mine at the table, the sound of her laugh.
That sound made me more happy than I could find words to describe. Especially knowing I was the reason for it.
I smiled down at the page, shading the shadows of a woman’s face. It wasn’t Rose, not exactly at least — she’d been a muse since the first time I laid eyes on her. I’d always been drawn to the female form in art, the delicate features of a woman’s face, the soft curves of her body, but Rose was the standard to which I held all features. Sometimes it would be her eyes that I’d start with, though the rest of her face would be different. Sometimes it was her lips. Or an expression she wore. But there was a small piece of Rose in everything I drew. I supposed there was a piece of Rose in me, too. There always would be.
I looked up from my work when the bell on the door rang.
Seth smiled, and I stood, surprised to see him but glad all the same.
“What’s up, man?” I said as he approached. We clapped each other’s shoulders.
“Not much. Just got off work and wanted to say hi.” He took a seat in my chair, and I leaned against my desk. There was a hint of worry in his face, and the familiar dread of responsibility for Seth crept in.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Or it will be.”
“What’s up?” I didn’t know if I was ready for the answer.