I waited, breathless with anticipation—
“There you are!”
I slammed back against the wall, the moment ruined. Cole squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched with obvious annoyance. He took a few seconds to gather himself. When he opened his eyes the annoyance was gone, but something else was there. It felt like he was trying to send me a silent message.
Pretending indifference, I stared up at him blankly, only managing to breathe properly when he spun around to speak to Tamara.
I didn’t like her.
But my God, I was grateful she’d interrupted us.
That was it. There would be no more overimbibing when Cole Walker was in the vicinity.
CHAPTER 4
W orking a weekend at INKarnate proved to be manic. The studio was abuzz with noise from the needles, music, and conversation. It was a constant flow of people, and the guys took a shorter lunch break to keep up with their appointments. I thought Sunday might be slightly quieter, but it was one of Simon’s days off, so it worked out to be just as busy, if not more so.
It made avoiding Cole extremely easy, however, and he never got a chance to bring up the charged moment between us at the Voodoo Rooms.
For some reason Monday was busy too, so despite the fact that a busy studio meant a far-too-busy-to-flirt-with-me Cole, I was somewhat relieved when I walked into work on Tuesday morning to a quiet environment. I started up where I’d left off on the digitizing of the files.
Half an hour later the door opened and a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than me, walked slowly over to my desk. I tensed at the darkness behind her eyes and her pale face. “Larissa Jones,” she said, her voice extremely quiet. “I have an appointment for a tattoo removal.”
I checked the appointment book, confirmed it, and disappeared into the back to Rae’s room where she was setting up to let her know her first appointment had arrived. When I returned to tell Larissa that Rae would be five minutes, I was surprised to find the girl sitting in the waiting area crying into her hands.
Alarmed, I hurried to retrieve the tissue box on my desk and made my way over to her. I sat down beside her. “Are you all right?”
She sobbed and lifted her tearstained face to mine. She shook her head. I understood the pain that was etched into her every feature and I felt my heart clench in compassion. Shuffling closer, I slid a comforting arm around her shoulders and held the tissues to her.
“Bad breakup?” I guessed as she took one.
Larissa sucked in a huge breath. “Yes.” Her lips trembled. “It’s his name I’m getting removed.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured softly, rubbing her back.
“He was a shit,” she cried. “I know that. I do. But . . .” She wiped at her face.
“Hey.” I tugged on her hand, and she leaned into my comfort. “I understand. You’re allowed to be sad. You are. But just know . . . no regrets, yeah? You’re doing the right thing. This is a fresh start. A new beginning for you.”
Meeting my eyes, Larissa gave me a tremulous smile. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?”
I snapped my head up, surprised to see Cole there. I hadn’t even heard him approach. His green eyes were on the girl and me. Concern wrinkled his brow.
“Yes.” Larissa nodded, looking embarrassed. “Had a bit of a meltdown.” She smiled sheepishly at me. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I reassured her. She should have had a friend come along and help her through this, I thought, sad for her.
“What’s all this, then?” Rae strode toward us. As soon as she saw Larissa’s tear-streaked face, she rounded the coffee table, gently took her hand, and guided her out of her seat. “I’m Rae. Come on, honey, let’s get a start on removing that fucker’s tattoo from your skin. You’ll feel all better soon.”
I watched my flatmate lead the girl into the back rooms and couldn’t help my smile. I was coming to learn that beneath the bluster and bravado, Rae was a big perceptive softie.
Suddenly the air changed.
I sucked in a breath, feeling Cole’s gaze burning into me.
Not wanting to but needing to nonetheless, I looked at him. I sucked in another breath.
He was staring at me with what appeared to be tenderness.
I didn’t like it. Nope. I really didn’t.
“What?” I said, my tone impatient.
His answer was to give me a small smile, walk casually over to me, place a kiss on my forehead, and then walk away.
My skin tingled where his lips had touched me.
“What the heck?” I muttered.
* * *
That night I had the pleasure of meeting Rae’s boyfriend, Mike, for the first time. At first it wasn’t a pleasure. At first I was a little mortified as Rae introduced him, because all I could think was that I knew the noises this guy made during sex.
Once I worked my way through the embarrassment, I was a little surprised by Mike. For some reason, I’d expected this superedgy, gruff guy with a personality to match or outmatch Rae’s. Mike wasn’t anything like that. He was tall, leanly built, had a nice face, kind dark eyes, and short blond hair. From the band on his T-shirt and from what Rae had told me, Mike liked the same music as his girlfriend. But that seemed to be where the similarities ended.
“We were feeling a bit frisky, shall we say?” Rae continued, telling me a story about the second gig she and Mike had attended together. From the moment we’d sat down in the sitting room to have a beer, Rae had done all the talking for Mike and he seemed okay with that. “So I suggested the ladies’ toilets and lo and behold, the place was empty. I dragged Mike in there, locked the main door, and we started going at it against the tiled walls.” She grinned at her boyfriend and he gave her a small smile, not at all put out that she was divulging details of their sex life. It occurred to me that perhaps this was because it wasn’t the first time she had done so in company.
I waited, not sure what my reply was supposed to be. I’d never had sex in a public place. In all honesty I’d never wanted to. My ex had tried to coerce me into having sex with him once in an alley in Glasgow City Center and had been more than pissed off when I told him to take a run and jump off the nearest bridge.
“She thought she’d locked the door,” Mike suddenly murmured, his lips twitching with amusement.
I gasped. “No.”
Rae laughed. “Yup. There we were, my knickers off, skirt around the waist, Mike’s jeans around his ankles as we did it against a cold wall, and all of a sudden we heard, ‘I’m not sure that’s very hygienic, sweetheart.’ We turned and this old lady, with long, hippy-length gray hair—cool-as-fuck old biddy—is standing in the door holding out a cloth handkerchief. ‘You might want to give those tiles a wee clean before you continue,’ she says.”
I laughed. “What did you do?”
Rae’s eyes sparkled at the memory. “Mike took the hanky and I said, ‘I want to be you when I’m older.’ And she replied, ‘Well, you’re going the right way about it.’” Rae chuckled. “Seriously. My freaking heroine.”
“She sounds like a character.”
Rae nodded and then launched into her next story. Although Mike was rarely given a chance to speak, and it appeared Rae could be quite bossy with him, I deduced that from what I could see so far, their relationship was quite balanced. When Mike got up to get himself another beer, Rae shooed him back down in his seat. She stroked his cheek tenderly. “You’ve been working such long hours, baby. I’ll get it for you.”
Every day I discovered new facets to Rae’s personality, and although she could be abrasive and she used the F-word way too much, I was nonetheless charmed by her. For the longest time I’d been surrounded by people who were either negative or fake. With Rae, what you saw you got—and although she teased people often, I knew that it never came from a mean place unless that person was not very nice.
In only a week of acquaintance I knew where I stood with Rae, and I was coming to learn that th
at was worth its weight in gold.
While Rae got the beers, Mike smiled at me. “How are you and Rae getting on?”
“Good.”
“I know she can be a bit . . . well, everything, but she’s a really good person.”
I smiled reassuringly. “I’m getting that.”
“Talking about me?” Rae sauntered back into the room. “Are you discussing my absolute fabulousness, darlings?” she asked, imitating Tony and doing it so well, I couldn’t help giggling.
“Something like that.” Mike smiled indulgently at her.
* * *
An hour later, Mike put down his empty beer bottle and stood. “I’m sorry, ladies. I’m going to have to hit the hay.” He gave me a nod good night and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Rae’s lips before heading toward her bedroom.
As soon as we heard the door shut behind him, Rae turned to me. “What do you think?”
I smirked. “Like you care.”
“True.” She grinned. “But I’m curious.”
“He seems like a really good guy.”
“The very best,” she said, her gaze drifting past me to the dark sky outside.
Comfortable silence fell between us only to be broken a minute later by Rae. “I had a good foster parent when I was a kid.”
The brittle quality in her voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Sally McIntyre. Her husband passed a year before she got me, but she kept on fostering.” She took the last drag of her beer and looked me direct in the eye. “Sally’s brother raped me when I was fourteen.”
My whole body jerked back like I’d been shot, and my lips fell open, ready for the right words, the right response, but my brain couldn’t think of one. The blood rushing in my ears drowned out any possible response.
“Sally found out and she got the police involved. She lost everything, though. I was put back into a girls’ home and I was examined and questioned until I wanted to die. That kind of thing leaves a mark on you. My fiancé, Jason, worked his arse off to help me through all the ugliness I’d been left with from my teenage years. He was patient with me, made me feel safe, in every way. With sex too. He gave me back to me.” She smiled but the gesture didn’t reach her eyes. “I fought tooth and nail to enjoy sex and not to be afraid of it, so I kind of went the opposite way, you know—as sexually free as I can be. But that mark . . . it never really disappears, and it leaves something behind in the back of your eyes.”
I couldn’t believe someone as strong as Rae had gone through so much. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
She nodded her thanks and then continued to shake the ground beneath me. “Shannon, were you raped?”
I felt like all the air was sucked out of the room, and the blood rushing in my ears only worsened. Sweat prickled under my arms and along my palms. Trembling a little, I held her gaze. “Almost,” I whispered, fighting the tears.
A fierce quality entered Rae’s eyes. “You fought the bastard off?”
I nodded and suddenly I was telling her everything. “His name was Ollie . . .”
Everything but the very worst of it, I told her. I didn’t want anyone to know the worst of it—my blame, my guilt, the devastation I’d caused my family. But everything else just poured out of me until I was sobbing in her arms.
Rae held me tight, rocking me, whispering words of comfort I’d had no idea I needed until somehow the pain lessened. Exhausted, I fell asleep in her arms.
The next morning I woke up in my own bed and I realized it was the best sleep I’d had since it all happened.
CHAPTER 5
A lthough Rae and I didn’t mention her confession or my own at breakfast the next morning, there was definitely a shift in our newfound friendship. Not only did I know where I stood with Rae, but now she knew where she stood with me.
Feeling raw after having purged so much from the dark closet in the back of my mind where I kept the events of the last few years locked up tight, I was thankful that Rae continued to be her usual sarcastic, unfiltered self. Her pity would have killed me. It was her day off and for once it coincided with Mike’s, so I was really quite glad to be leaving for work. From the look on her face, I was guessing Mike was in for a sexathon.
Despite Rae’s support and willingness to act normal around me, as I walked into INKarnate I still felt really fragile from my breakdown the night before. Cole had an early appointment, so he was busy, but Simon came out to greet me, took one look at me, and immediately asked me if I was okay. I managed to convince him I just hadn’t slept well, and he left me to get on with the filing.
I blame the edginess I was feeling for what happened next.
A few hours later, I was standing in the back of the closet that held all the files when the light in the room dimmed a little. Sensing I wasn’t alone, I spun around and found Cole leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle over the other. The pose said casual, but his gaze was assessing.
The attraction I felt toward him was suddenly overtaken by an overwhelming burning anger centered in my gut.
“You look very pretty today, Shortcake,” he said softly.
The seriousness in his words, the lack of flirtation, the tenderness in the silly nickname he’d given me, only made my anger simmer over. At least when he was being blasé and sexy I could fight it, but now he was being underhanded—trying out that soulful “I really do like you” rubbish on me. “I’m busy,” I bit out.
Sighing heavily, Cole stood from the door and took a few steps inside. “Look, I’m sorry if I came on a little strong before. I’m not usually like that.” He gave me a cheeky smile, returning to his natural form. “You just bring it out in me.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
Hearing the acidity in my response, Cole tensed. “Have I done something to upset you?”
Had he done something?
Mad as hell, I turned on him, feeling all the dislike and fear and loss that was running through me coalesce in his direction. Later I’d realize how unfair and irrational it had been, but right then Cole Walker represented everything wrong with my life and the choices I’d made thus far.
“I can’t stand guys like you.” My words were low, filled with venom that caused Cole’s body to jerk back in surprise. “Good-looking guys who assume every woman will just fall at their feet, grateful for a crumb of their attention. Well, I’m not one of them. I don’t respect players like you. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. There’s nothing behind that charming smile but empty promises. You have nothing real to offer me or anyone who finds herself a victim of your flirtation. The difference between me and them, however, is that I’m smart enough to see you for what you really are.” Breathing ragged, I concluded, “Nothing.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. The look on his face . . . utter disbelief. I didn’t say ugly things like that to people. That wasn’t me.
But the fact that he’d reduced me to it just made me even angrier.
The muscle in Cole’s jaw flexed and he took one menacing step toward me, causing me to stumble back. He stopped, noting my retreat with something like disgust. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me . . . but thank you. Thank you for showing me what a judgmental bitch you can be. I won’t waste my time on someone who’s not worth it.”
To my astonishment his words cut me.
I hid it, though. Practice made perfect. “Am I out of a job?”
His upper lip curled. “You really do think I’m a prick, don’t you?”
I made no response since the vitriol I’d just dealt him seemed evidence enough.
“No, Shannon,” Cole snapped. “Your job is safe as long as you do it well. As for me, I’ll be sure to stay out of your way as much as I possibly can.”
* * *
Unfortunately for Cole and me we shared the same two days off, so it wasn’t even as though we could avoid each other at work.
The ho
stility between us was bad.
I was sure Rae noticed it at work on Tuesday, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if that was her being scarily perceptive or if she just didn’t give a crap. Sometimes with Rae it was hard to tell. It was Simon’s day off, so he didn’t know anything was going on. He returned to work on Wednesday.
We made it obvious pretty quickly that something was amiss.
Cole had just finished up with a customer. He’d been all friendly and smiles, bringing the older woman to the reception to pay, but as soon as he turned to me his expression turned blank. “An hour for Marie here.”
I didn’t even look at him. Just as friendly as he had been with Marie, I took her cash with a smile and bade her a good day. As soon as she was out the door, Cole informed me, “I’ll be out for lunch today, so I won’t need you to get me anything.”
“Fine.”
He grunted and strode away.
Half an hour later his next appointment came in. Just the thought of having to go into Cole’s room to tell him caused me butterflies and not the good kind. The moth-eaten-winged kind.
Bracing myself, I hurried to his room only to find he and Simon were in there joking together. Cole looked up and the laughter died in his eyes at the sight of me. “What?” he said impatiently.
I glanced at Simon and noted his eyebrows were halfway up his forehead, he was so taken aback by Cole’s tone. Annoyed, I gritted my teeth and looked at my boss with invisible daggers shooting out of my eyes. “Your next appointment is here. Thought you’d like to know.”
“Fine.” He looked away quickly to resume conversation with Simon, but Simon’s mouth was hanging open as he stared at me.
I made a face and whirled around on my heel and stomped out of there.
I heard Simon say gruffly, “What was that?” but was moving too fast to hear Cole’s reply.
That was pretty much how Cole and I treated each other for the rest of the day. My favorite part was when he finished up with the pretty young blonde who’d gone in for a tattoo of her favorite lyrics on her lower hip (I knew this because she couldn’t shut up about the Killers lyrics, what they meant to her, and what it meant that the Cole Walker would be inking them on her skin) and he ended up taking her out to lunch. Her name was Jessica and after she paid, she leaned over the desk to me with this massive grin on her face and whisper-shouted, “Cole’s taking me out for lunch.”
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