Beautiful Wreck

by Kasey Lane

  “Stop it,” she protested, although Bowen suspected she didn’t really mean it when she arched into him and moaned before pushing out of his arms. “I have work to do and you smell.”

  She spun on her heel and walked back into the house, stopping to yell over her shoulder, “You’re still naked on the balcony.”

  He showered quickly, wondering the whole time what Conner wanted to talk about. When he walked into the living room with a towel around his waist, she looked up and smiled. Bowen was suddenly struck by the calm domesticity of the situation. A quick run and workout, some making out with his woman, and then off to meet a friend.

  Is this what normal feels like?

  And for just a minute he let himself lean into what it would be like to wake up to this woman every day. Quickly, those old thoughts began to creep in, the ones that told him recovery and paying his sister and her husband back were the only things that mattered. Staying sober meant staying focused and not getting addicted to anything…or anyone.

  Even Gabrielle Alvarez.

  *

  When Gabby walked into Tatuaggio that night the shop was ablaze with lights and pumping with music. All the chairs, except Bowen and Conner’s, were occupied, as well as three scary-looking biker dudes sitting on the worn leather couches in the waiting area.

  The office manager and shop’s sole piercer, Quinley, waved her in.

  “Hey, Bowen’s just finishing up in the back.” Her choppy mop had been transformed into colorful short dreads that only she could pull off.

  “Like your hair, Quin,” Gabby said as she walked past.

  “Yeah? Not sure I do. Probably shave it all off next week. Who knows?” Quinley laughed. Gabby wished she had the kind of vibrancy, the love of attention, that Tatuaggio’s office manager did. But everyone in the shop greeting her by name and asking how she was, was about all the attention she could handle in a week, let alone five minutes.

  And she certainly didn’t care for all the side-eye glances shot her way. Most of them knew she was staying with Bowen, not to mention how he insisted on holding her hand or keeping his arm around her that first night in the hospital. They probably all thought she was fucking him.

  Well, you are, dumb ass.

  So what. She didn’t want all his nosy friends knowing it. Because when it all went sideways, and it would in some manner or another, she didn’t want them all up in her business.

  When Bowen had called earlier and asked if she could get a ride back to the shop because he was running late with an appointment, Gabby had been slightly surprised. At first, she thought it was no big deal. But as she walked the few blocks to the shop she began to wonder if it was more than just a schedule change, if this was the beginning of the end. Would he start staying out later, coming home smelling of booze or weed? Would he stop showing up for his shifts at the center? Start bailing on band practice?

  By the time she’d swept through Tatuaggio’s front door, she’d resolutely moved beyond calling her landlord about her trashed apartment and when it would be fixed to finding a new place to live altogether. Right away. She didn’t need to hang around to watch Bowen fall apart. She could choose to freeze him in her memory just the way he had been: dependable, sexy, charming.

  She walked into the brightly lit back room and saw Bowen’s back with his T-shirt molded across his wide shoulders bent over a young woman who was lying front down on the massage table. The woman’s long blonde hair was swept to the side and she appeared to be shirtless. Her tight jeans clung to her long curves and Gabby could see the two dimples above her ass indenting her tawny skin.

  She must be the reason Bowen couldn’t pick her up.

  “Are you sure you can’t go, Bo? We all miss you. It’s going to be a blast…just like old times.” The woman’s voice was soft and lyrical over the buzz of the tattoo machine and the music from the main part of the shop. Gabby suddenly wanted to clamp her hand over the pretty woman’s mouth. Make her stop talking.

  “Can’t, Amber. Sorry, but bonfires aren’t really my thing anymore. Plus I have plans tomorrow night.”

  “But you don’t have to drink or anything. You can even bring your friend. We’ll just hang out. We used to have a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

  The buzz of the machine stopped and Bowen began to clean up her tattoo.

  “We did,” he said quietly as he worked. “And then we didn’t.” He patted her leg and handed her a small mirror. “There we go, hon. Take a look and then I’ll wrap you up.”

  When she started to sit up Bowen handed her a shirt. “You should probably cover yourself.” Then he turned and spotted Gabby in the doorway. A huge smile spread across his handsome face. “Well, hello there, sweetheart. Hey, Amber, this is Gabby—the girl I told you about.”

  Gabby stood stunned, not able to smile or speak or respond in any way. Sweetheart? The girl I told you about. Amber turned around, barely covering her gigantic, but perfectly round breasts with her tiny T-shirt and flashing the most beautiful big blue eyes Gabby had ever seen.

  The blonde gestured to her shirt and the mirror she was holding as she stepped to the wall mirror to examine her tattoo. “Hi Gabby. I’d shake your hand, but my hands are full. Nice to meet you. Bowen can’t seem to stop talking about you.” Amber smiled, a mouth full of shiny white teeth. Strangely, she seemed sincere and not ready to attack Gabby for daring to share space with the best-looking man on the planet.

  “Say ‘hi’ Gabby,” Bowen prompted, chuckling as he taped plastic wrap over Amber’s new ink. “You can change in the bathroom, Amber.” He gestured across the hall. “And you can pay Quin when she checks you out.”

  “Hello. It’s nice to meet you,” Gabby finally managed as she moved into the room.

  Amber looked back and forth between Bowen and Gabby before she took a step forward as if to hug Bowen. He shook his head and smiled. “It was good to see you, Amber. Take care. Let me know if you have any issues with that cover-up.” And then he deftly maneuvered back to his workstation to finish cleaning up and get ready for Gabby’s tattoo.

  Amber shrugged and finally left to change. Without looking up, Bowen said, “Close the door and lock it, little one. And take your shirt and bra off.”

  “But…what…I didn’t take my bra off last time,” she sputtered, feeling a little angry, but not quite sure why.

  He looked up and fixed his gray-eyed gaze on her, cementing her to the spot where she stood. He didn’t smile, but there was a slightly arrogant smirk to his mouth and a glint of something dangerous in his eyes.

  “Bowen,” she said slowly. “This is work. You’re supposed to be a professional. And…”

  “It’s my professional opinion that you need to lock the door and take your shirt and bra off.”

  She stood there. Should she do what he said? What would it hurt to do what he said? It’s not like he was flaking on her like she thought. He actually was running behind. Just like he said.

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  No. She wasn’t okay. Everything was a mess. She was totally confused about Bowen. Someone, probably her deviant former foster father, was stalking her. Her mother was back in rehab. And she was screwing an addict in recovery. So, no, she was definitely NOT okay.

  “Yes,” she lied. “Long day.”

  “Did you have any trouble getting a ride over?”

  “I walked.”

  Before she knew it, Bowen had jumped from his stool and had his gloved hands wrapped around her biceps. “You walked across the bridge at night? I told you to get a ride.”

  “You are not my fucking boss, pretty boy. It’s been weeks since my apartment was trashed and I don’t have—”

  “Cut the shit, Gabby. This isn’t about me or your control issues. This is about your fucking safety. How can I get you to understand?”

  Gabby looked away from Bowen, not able to meet his gaze any longer. Not only was he not a douchy jerk with plans to ditch her, but now he was also more concerned with her safety than sh
e was. She couldn’t get comfortable with that though, with him looking out for her. Could she? She’d been on her own long enough to know better than to count on anyone other than herself. But she couldn’t deny the little kick to her heart when his fingers wrapped around her arms. She wanted to fight back, tell him what he could do with his concern and his bossiness. But instead she reached her hand to his face, letting her fingers draw across his rough stubble and her thumb rub the strong line of his jaw.

  “I do. I understand, Bowen. You’re right—it was a mistake and I’ll be more careful next time.”

  His eyes widened and his hand wound quickly around the back of her head as he yanked her closer and feathered his mouth against hers. “Apology accepted,” he mumbled against her lips.

  “That wasn’t an apology.”

  “Close enough.” He chucked and pulled back. “Now take your top and bra off, little one.” He swatted her ass and sank back down on his stool to finish prepping for her first inking-in session.

  She did what he told her and settled onto the table. The look on Bowen’s face when he looked up was well worth all her inner turmoil. Her belly clenched and her breath stilled for a moment as his eyes traveled from her head to her chest, lingering on her breasts and torso before moving downward. “If I ever forget to tell you, I want you to know right now…you’re gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

  “Well your tattoo helps.” She laughed, but his eyes looked fierce.

  “No. You’re just as beautiful with or without the scars, Gabby.”

  Before she could ask what he meant by that, the moment was gone and the air between them shifted again. “Ready?” he asked with the tattoo machine held above her torso. “Let’s start with the darker colors on the ribs, then we’ll flip you over and do the other side. Okay?”

  She nodded and took a deep breath as the needles touched down and tingles of energy zipped over her skin. She closed her eyes and let her tattoo artist, fuck buddy, roommate, and all-around confusing pretty boy do his magic.

  Almost three hours later, Gabby stood in front of the wall mirror and stared at the beautiful image transforming the scars on her body. She shifted her body to the side so she could see the way the image played against her skin. She felt nearly giddy with excitement at how well Bowen had captured her idea. He’d not only interpreted it, but made it better…took it to a whole new level.

  It was perfect.

  He walked up behind her carrying a tongue depressor with goo all over it in one hand and a sheet of plastic wrap in the other. His eyes connected with hers in the mirror’s reflection. Strange how he was so easy to keep eye contact with, yet nearly everyone else’s gaze made her feel exposed, vulnerable.

  “You like it?” Bowen asked, his voice hoarse from misuse.

  She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I love it.” Her voice was hoarse, too, thick with feelings she didn’t feel comfortable having.

  He motioned for her to turn to him. When she did he smoothed the gel over her skin and covered it with the plastic before securing the edges with paper medical tape. “I do, too,” he said softly, handing her bra and sweatshirt over. “I’ll want to do one more session of color and a little touch-up in a couple weeks, but you’re almost done.”

  He cleaned up quickly while she dressed. She moved toward the door as he finished up, but his voice stopped her. “I need to talk to you about something, Gabby.”

  She turned on her heel and pressed her back to the door. He was kicking her out. He was ending their time together. She held her breath and waited for the hammer to fall, but not before she pushed her steel shields back in place.

  “Conner…Manix…they’ve asked me to fill in for him when they leave in two weeks.” He propped his hip against the massage table. “I’d get a portion of receipts, which would help me pay back Kevan and Mason for the cost of treatment.”

  Despite her efforts to fortify her heart, his words tore at her chest. Of course they’d asked him to go on tour. What other local musician was more qualified, more talented than former Manix guitarist and current bassist for Toast? None. Only Bowen. He was ending it all in a manner of speaking. He wasn’t coming out and actually kicking her out, but he was setting their sell-by date.

  “Congratulations.”

  “That’s it? ‘Congratulations.’ That’s all you have to say?” His neck reddened and he scowled at her.

  “What am I supposed to say? I mean, I guess we have our deadline, right?” She turned and pulled the door open, but his hand came over her head and slammed the door shut. The warmth of his big body over hers, around her, made her pulse skip.

  “I thought we could actually talk about this. Like two adults.”

  “We are talking about it. We already agreed this wouldn’t last long. You have your life and I have mine. The two don’t mix.”

  “I was thinking you might want to stay in my apartment while I’m on tour.” She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, playing games with her body and her mind.

  She laughed. Better to squelch any hope for a future beyond a simple friendship now. “I’ve been looking at other apartment buildings closer to work. I applied for one with better security.” She’d sent in the application earlier that week on a whim after Roland had mentioned an opening in his building, but had promptly forgotten about it. She turned and looked up at him, his face tight and hard. “You don’t have to worry about me, Bowen. I’ll be okay.”

  He stood still as stone for a moment before expelling a long breath and reaching around to pull the door open. “Right. Of course you will.” He pushed past her and hurried through the open tattoo shop shooting barbs and small talk with his friends and co-workers like nothing was different. Like they hadn’t just had a fucked-up tense discussion about the ending of their ridiculous arrangement. Like he hadn’t embedded himself into her heart and taken over her body in a way she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to be rid of.

  For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t really sure she would be okay.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bowen still had Gabby’s car keys so when he reached the car first he hopped in the driver’s seat and started the car. She didn’t argue when she slid into the passenger seat, like she usually did, about who drove. In fact, she didn’t say anything and they made their way home in silence.

  He hadn’t known what to expect when he told Gabby about Conner’s request. Like an idiot, he had hoped they’d actually have a conversation about it before she just shut him down. He didn’t care that it was probably best for her, for both of them, if she moved to another part of town. It would certainly be safer than staying in the building they lived in. And definitely safer than going back to her old apartment.

  It had been weeks. Why the hell hadn’t the police found this McNeil asshole and thrown him in jail? The last update they’d received was that the ex-wife had recently filed for a restraining order because he’d been acting aggressively and showing up at her work and house at odd hours. The wife was cagey at first, but finally admitted that her ex had been ranting the last year about how it was all Gabby’s fault that his life had gone to shit.

  After parking the car, Gabby shot out and ran toward the stairs faster than an Olympic sprinter. Her phone began to buzz on the seat she’d just vacated. The screen flashed “Alma.” Bowen picked it up, wondering what the right thing to do was. Answer the phone—it was her mom after all. Or ignore it since it wasn’t his phone or his business. The phone stopped buzzing for a moment and then began again. Maybe it was important.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Who is this? Where’s Gabrielle?”

  “Ms. Alvarez? This is Bowen. Bowen Landry. I’m Gabby’s friend.”

  “Well, hello, sugar. Are you the friend she’s staying with?” Her mother’s voice changed to something resembling a purr, making his stomach churn.

  “Yes. Look. Gabby isn’t here right now. Can I take a message for her?”

  “Yesh,” Mrs. Alvarez slurred. Great, s
he was high or drunk or something. Bowen’s shoulders tensed and he suddenly felt less angry with his cranky roomie. “So where do you live, sugar? I was thinking about stopping by for a little visit with my only child.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that without her permission. Can I have her return your call on this number? Is this your cell?”

  “Obviously,” she said. He could her the heat in her words. “Look, honey, I just want to surprise her. We haven’t seen each other in so long. A girl needs her mama, ya know.”

  If her own mother didn’t know where she lived, then Gabby probably had a good reason for not telling her. Like maybe Alma used her only daughter as a crash pad, bank, and refueling station. A sick, dirty feeling crawled over Bowen’s skin as he realized he used to be just like Alma Alvarez—full of charm and bullshit and broken promises. Only out for himself, using people who loved him only for what they could get him. His chest felt hollow and his stomach ached.

  He didn’t want Gabby to deal with the fallout from whatever her mom was up to now. She was apparently not in rehab anymore if the shake in her voice and her slurred words were any indication. But what right did he have trying to protect Gabby from her own mother? When clearly Gabby didn’t think he was more than a casual hookup…a fuck buddy? And his past always sat in the back of Gabby’s mind, a reminder of the chasm that would forever separate them.

  “I’ll let her know you called,” he said stiffly.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, you little shit stick? I’m her mother and I expect—”

  “I’ll let her know you called,” he repeated. He needed to get off the call before it spiraled any more. He had no business picking up her phone and now he was having an actual discussion with Gabby’s mom without Gabby’s knowledge.

  “Wait! Don’t hang up. I’m sorry,” she said quickly before he could tap his thumb over the disconnect icon. “I’m just worried about my baby. I miss her and I haven’t seen her in so long. She’s so stubborn.” Her voice seemed stronger now, more real. Maybe he’d imagined her slurred speech. Maybe she was still where she was supposed to be.