by Emery Rose
“Are you going to let me in?”
He opened the door wide and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I caught him with another girl. I slipped past him and he closed the door, doing up the locks, his back turned to me. I stared at the gun tucked in his back waistband. A gun.
“Connor…”
He gestured with his hand that I should go ahead of him. I walked up the stairs and took off my coat, setting it on a chair with my overnight bag. Connor disappeared into his bedroom and I heard a drawer opening and closing. He returned to the living room, running a hand through his hair. “I was about to take a shower…”
“Why did you answer the door with a gun?”
“You need to text me or call me if you’re coming over.”
He’d been scared. I thought about the night we’d ordered Chinese food. When I’d tried to buzz the delivery guy up, Connor had stopped me and said he’d go down and pick it up. “My phone was dead. I couldn’t call or text.”
“Let me grab a quick shower, okay?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
It wasn’t the welcome I’d hoped for. I collapsed on his sofa to wait. My head felt heavy, but inside, I felt hollowed-out and empty. I’d walked out on my family. And Lana had been having sex with Jake Masters. Jealousy, of all things, had prevented her from taking my side. I’d chosen Connor over my family, but I didn’t even know if he wanted me here.
I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste from my overnight bag and brushed my teeth in the kitchen sink. Three times. Connor walked in as I spit a stream of water and toothpaste into the sink. I lifted my head and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Classy, Ava.
He ran a hand over his damp hair and my gaze traveled down his bare torso, the Japanese dragon tattooed on his chest, the tail disappearing over his shoulder. And lower to the sweatpants hanging low on his narrow waist. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and handed me one. “Sorry about that. Let’s have a do-over.”
“A do-over?”
“Hey babe, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you and I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “What happened? Why are you brushing your teeth in my kitchen sink? And why are you here tonight?”
“Because I missed you. And I’d rather spend Thanksgiving with you than with my family.” I told him what happened, and he listened to the whole story, his arm around me tensing. But he didn’t interrupt me. When I finished talking, I took a deep breath and exhaled, releasing all the tension I’d felt earlier.
He cradled my face in his hands, his eyes locking on mine. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I caused you trouble with your family. I’m sorry Lana’s such a bitch.”
“Stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. I got the feeling you didn’t want me here.”
“I do.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m an asshole.”
“You are,” I said. “You really are.”
“I know. But you love me anyway,” he teased.
“My tragic flaw.”
He pulled back to look at my face, his hands moving to the sides of my neck, his eyes locking on mine. “You love me, Ava?”
Connor had always needed to hear the words, had needed the reassurance that I would always love him, that I would always stand by his side and fight his corner. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
His face lit up with a brilliant smile that made me feel like everything would be okay, after all, and I knew I’d made the right choice. Because Connor…he needed to know that he was loved. Despite everything we’d gone through over the years, through all the pain and heartache, I had never stopped loving him and I knew I never would.
“I can’t believe you made me watch this again.”
“Secretly, you love it,” I said.
“The first time. Maybe even the second time. But we’ve watched it dozens of times.”
That was an exaggeration but not by much. “Stop complaining,” I said, jamming a handful of popcorn into his mouth, my eyes still trained on The Princess Bride.
“As you wish,” he said, his hand sliding up my leg. “I love you in my shirt.”
I loved me in his shirt too. It was soft and faded from too many washings. A blue plaid button-down a lot like the one he had in high school. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same one. I smirked as his hand ventured farther up my thigh. If he kept going, he’d be in for a surprise.
“Jesus Christ,” he said, sliding his hand between my thighs. Next thing I knew, the popcorn bowl was relegated to the coffee table and I was straddling Connor’s lap.
“It’s hard to see the movie with my back to it.”
“Fuck the movie.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
He laughed as he stood up, and still holding me, carried me into the bedroom and laid me down on his bed. I pulled off the shirt and tossed it aside then scooted back so my head was on the pillow. Once again, Connor had gone commando. His sweatpants came off and he was naked and ready for me. Good thing because it seemed I was always ready for him. Connor turned me into a lust-addled, sex-crazed maniac and it felt like I could never get enough of him. He nudged my legs apart and I wrapped them around his waist, my fingers sifting through his hair and holding the back of his head as he cupped my breast in his hand and lifted it to his mouth. I rocked my hips against his erection and he groaned, the vibration making my nipples get harder, my sex clenching.
“I need you. Now,” I said, not caring that I sounded desperate. I was so wet, I could feel it dripping down my leg.
Connor wasn’t looking for fast and dirty tonight, it seemed. He ignored my plea and his mouth moved to my other breast, his tongue teasing my sensitive nipple, pulling more moans from my lips. His hand slid between my legs, a finger slipping inside me, curling, reaching and then it was gone. He dragged his finger over my lips and slipped it inside my mouth. “Suck on my finger,” he said, and I did. I tasted myself, knowing he loved that, and I sucked on his finger, my cheeks hollowed until finally, finally he gave me what I wanted. He took his cock in his hand and guided it to my entrance, then thrust inside me, moving in and out in a slow, rhythmic pace.
“Let me hear you say it,” he said, his mouth moving up my neck, his kisses soft, making love to me with a gentleness I hadn’t known him capable of. That was what this was. Making love.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Again.”
“I love you.” I rocked my hips against him, needing more. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Connor tugged my lower lip between his lips, sucked on it and slowly released it before his mouth covered mine and he thrust deep inside me, so deep I could feel the piercings as the orgasm shattered me. Like that heart made of glass.
“I love you, Ava Blue,” he said, coming apart in my arms. And in that moment, I thought that it had all been worth it. All the pain. All the hurt. Because here we were, after all those detours, falling in love all over again.
I woke up, my body tucked into the curve of Connor’s, the room pitched in darkness. “Connor?” I whispered, not sure if he was asleep.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I drank too much wine.”
“It happens.”
“I should go tea-total. Whenever I drink, I either end up in a puddle of tears or I do something crazy. But you know what? I don’t regret anything I said to my family.”
“I wish it had been me, standing up for you. I hate it that you have to fight my battle.”
I turned in his arms to face him. “I think you’ve got it wrong. We’ve always fought for each other. When one of us lays down our sword, the other picks it up and goes to battle.”
“When does life stop being a battle?” he asked.
“When right wins over might.”
24
Connor
Another case
of inker’s remorse. The morning after a drunken bachelor party, the guy in my tattoo chair—Jason—had woken up with a tattoo of a naked redhead wearing a sash beauty queen style with the name Lola written across it. Now it was my job to fix it.
“Next time you get drunk, don’t go to a tattoo parlor,” I said.
He shook his head. “Damn straight.”
It pissed me off that a tattoo artist would even ink a drunk guy. I would have turned him away and told him to go sleep it off.
The bell over the door chimed. I ignored it and concentrated on my linework. Saturday afternoon and the shop was busy. I was booked for the rest of the day and so were AJ, Lee, and Gavin. If it was a walk-in, Claudia knew to turn them away. Jason let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. I wouldn’t mind having her face and body inked on my arm. Check her out, man. You’ve gotta see what just walked in.”
I lifted the tattoo needle and turned my head to look, not expecting much, judging by his taste in tattoos, and nearly fell off my fucking stool.
What the hell was she doing in my shop?
The willowy brunette was shock and awe. Like a supermodel who had just stepped off the catwalk. Trouble with a capital T. I took deep breaths through my nose, trying to calm the fuck down, but I was losing my shit.
“Do you have an appointment?” Claudia asked. She was using that voice she reserved for beautiful women, like she automatically hated them on sight. Keira scanned the shop and her gaze settled on me, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. If she was happy to see me, the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“I’m here to see Connor.”
“He’s busy,” Claudia said.
Too fucking bad I wasn’t invisible. Too fucking bad Jason wasn’t a mute. “That chick is here for you. She’s coming over,” he said, giving me a play-by-play of the train wreck headed my way. As if I wasn’t fully aware.
“Connor,” she said. “I…wow, it’s really you…here you are.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked sharply.
“I came to see you. I have so many questions…so much I want to tell you. We need to talk.”
“I’m with a client. Go sit in the waiting area.”
“Hell no, you stay right here. Pull up a seat,” Jason said. “I don’t mind.”
“I do,” I gritted out. “I need you to get out of my space and go sit on the sofa. Or better yet, take a walk.” And don’t come back, I silently added.
“These artist types are kinda touchy,” Jason said, winking at her.
Keira ignored his comment. “I’ll wait on the sofa.” Her gaze flitted around my space—my space—and landed on my leather-bound portfolio on the shelf. Jason watched her every move as she sashayed past him, picked up my portfolio and carried it to the sofa. Shrugging off her coat, she pulled the portfolio into her lap and flipped through the pages. Not only was she in my shop but now she was poring over my artwork. Even though I let clients browse it for ideas, it felt like an invasion of privacy that Keira was doing it. I swiped the sweat off my forehead with my forearm, repeating my mantra in my head but that sinking feeling of dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. The roller coaster was picking up speed and it was about to jump the fucking tracks. My heart raced and sweat beaded my forehead. I needed to get out of here. The walls were closing in on me.
I peeled off my gloves. “Let’s take a break. My hand’s cramped up,” I lied.
“Sure, man. Whatever you need.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off Keira who was studying the photos in my portfolio as if she wanted to commit them to memory. I slipped away, undetected, and bummed a smoke off Lee who was in the break room sketching before I exited through the back door. Leaning against the wall, I lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, assaulted by memories of Miami. The Shaughnessy’s’ Spanish-style house in Coral Gables with the security gate, manicured gardens, and pool. My mother’s face when she’d opened the door and saw me standing there. Ronan Shaughnessy in his tailored suit and crisp white shirt. Movie star handsome. Feared as much as he was admired. Charming. Charismatic. Dangerous. The devil in disguise.
“I protect what’s mine. You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong. Go back to Brooklyn and keep your mouth shut about everything that happened down here. Have I made myself clear?”
I eyed my Harley, tempted to hop on it and drive away. Take Ava on that road trip I’d promised her all those years ago. I paced behind the shop and smoked my cigarette down to the filter, trying to reason with myself.
What was the worst thing that could happen?
They’ll call you out as the liar you are.
Shaughnessy will come up here to haul Keira’s ass home.
Just when Ava and I had found our way to someplace good, the whole fucking sky had to fall. She’d walked out on her family Thanksgiving. For me. I’d lied to her again and it was too late to make it right.
Asshole. You should have told her. I went back inside to face whatever was headed my way, knowing damn well it wouldn’t be pretty. I washed my hands, popped a few pieces of gum into my mouth and returned to Jason. Tattooing usually calmed me and forced me to focus, and I tried to get in my zone and block out everything else around me.
The bell over the door chimed again and Jason let out another low whistle.
As bad luck would have it, Ava had just strolled in, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Dressed in black from head to toe, her pale hair and cherry-red lips in stark contrast, she looked stunning.
“I need to hang out here more often. You get some hot chicks in here.”
I was tempted to shove my fist in his face to shut him up.
“Hey babe,” Ava said, giving me a little wave and a sweet smile. I forced a smile, but my face felt tight and the most I could manage was a grimace. Like I was in pain. Which I fucking was.
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Hey babe. What are you doing here?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m unwelcome. Again?”
Fuck. “No. You’re always welcome. I thought you had things to do at the bar, that’s all.”
“It’s my Forever Ink time. Keep up with the schedule, Rocket Man,” she tossed over her shoulder. I watched her walk over to the desk and chat with Claudia. Get back to the office area. Since when had Claudia and Ava become besties? You’d never know that Ava had threatened to scratch Claudia’s eyes out. Keira was watching with interest and her eye caught mine. I averted my gaze.
“Who’s the other chick?” Gavin asked from his station.
“Nobody,” I muttered.
“Did you sleep with her?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Deep breaths. I had no idea why Gavin persisted in asking me about my sex life when I’d never once confided in him. He, on the other hand, gave me detailed reports of all the women he screwed. Tall tales, if you asked me.
“Not that I mind sharing…”
“She’s off-limits,” I growled. Then I realized that I was defending and protecting Keira like an older brother would. What the fuck?
Jason barked laughter. “He’s keeping them both for himself.”
Once again, I had to refrain from planting my fist in his face. I ducked my head and got back to work. Forty minutes later Jason’s tattoo was done. I’d managed to keep my mouth shut the whole time and silently conveyed the message that I wasn’t up for a friendly chat, so he’d kept himself busy on his phone. Not that he stayed silent. I got to hear all about his Tinder hook-ups.
I walked Jason to the desk and collected his money, reminding him to follow the rules on the after-tattoo care sheet I handed him. “Thanks, man. Good luck with your ladies.”
I ignored him and Claudia’s raised eyebrows.
“Hey. Connor.” I turned to look at Nico. I’d forgotten he was coming in today. He glanced at Keira who flashed him a smile, throwing him off his game. “Oh…uh…” Nico cleared his throat and dragged his gaze back to me, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m early. I can wai
t. I just thought…I wouldn’t mind seeing the design.”
“Yeah. Of course, man.”
I returned to my station and retrieved my sketchbook from the cupboard, flipping through the pages until I got to the design I’d sketched for Nico. A lion with bared teeth and a thick mane. I struggled to keep my face neutral as I returned to the waiting area, not even hazarding a glance in Keira’s direction. But I could feel her watching me as I handed Nico the sketch.
“Oh man. Holy shit,” he said, staring at the sketch. I could tell by his voice and the look on his face that he liked what I’d done for him and that was a reward in itself. Making Nico happy was important to me. We’d started working out together on Saturday and Sunday mornings. He wasn’t a big talker, but he’d let a few things slip, enough for me to know that he was a good kid in a shitty situation. I understood what it felt like to hurt for someone else, to feel useless and guilty about it. I understood his fear and his anger at the injustice of it all. Bad shit happened to good people all the time.
“You good with that design? I can change—”
“No. I’m cool with this.”
“Good. I want you to be happy.” Killian had asked me to take care of Nico and to make sure he got whatever tattoo he wanted. It was Nico’s eighteenth birthday present and Killian told me he’d cover the cost. I had no intention of charging Nico or Killian for this tattoo. “Claudia will give you the paperwork. Fill it out and I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Take your time. I’m cool to wait.”
I looked toward the back of the shop at the office area. No Ava.
“She’s making tea,” Claudia said. My gaze snapped to her and she narrowed her eyes at me in accusation and lowered her voice. “If you fuck her over, it’ll be my turn to kick you in the balls.”
This goddamn place. Everyone was up in everyone’s business. And apparently, Claudia and Ava had bonded. Time to face Keira. She stood and took a few steps closer, opening her mouth to speak. I didn’t want her to say a word in front of Nico or Claudia or anyone else. “Let’s go outside.”