Inked on Paper (7 page)

Chapter Ten

Presley

Since I had slept most of the day away, by the time midnight rolled around, I was restless and edgy, unable to sit still. And because Gil was at the shop and Gavin was working for a little while longer, I had no one to keep me company at home, so I decided to venture down to the Elephant Room, a basement jazz club I liked to frequent.

Between my condo and the tattoo shop, there were a number of bars and restaurants, all sporting different themes, catering to the diverse groups that descended on the Live Music Capital of the World. That was one of the reasons I enjoyed living in Austin. And because these places were so convenient, there were many nights when I would meet one or more of my friends to hang out.

Tonight, I’d called Blaze, but she’d said she was busy. Since Charlie was also at the shop, that left me with Gavin. He worked nights, but he was an artist like me, so I knew he could make his own hours. When we’d talked at ten, he’d said things were slow, so we’d agreed to meet at midnight. It was nearly twelve thirty when he finally walked in the door, but that didn’t surprise me. Punctuality and Gavin didn’t go hand in hand.

When he spotted me from the bar, I waved him over to a table I’d procured in the back corner, farthest from the small stage. It was dark and relatively quiet, considering. Since it was Saturday night, the place was packed with people, plus there was live music—a regular who I happened to like had taken the stage—so finding a spot hadn’t been easy, but I’d managed.

“Hey, sweets.” Gavin greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, then a heavy sigh as he dropped into the chair beside me. “Why aren’t you home sleeping?” he asked, taking a sip of the beer he’d brought over with him.

“Slept all day,” I told him.

“Which means you aren’t sleeping at night. Why?” The look he shot me was full of concern.

I narrowed my eyes at him, letting him know that was the dumbest question I’d heard all day. He knew exactly why I wasn’t sleeping. Or part of it anyway. But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t mention last night’s debauchery in my living room.

What I really wanted to talk about was the man bun he was sporting. It was … different, but it seemed to be working for him. Gavin’s blond hair had gotten long, and he’d taken to pinning it up beneath the beanie he wore. Tonight, he didn’t have the beanie, only the bun.

Pulling my attention away from his hair, I found ocean-blue eyes regarding me.

“Gil still keepin’ you up?”

“Gil? Don’t you mean
both
of you?”

Gavin grinned. “Sweets, I’m quiet when I make love.”

I snorted. “Make love? Like you even know what that is.”

“Fine. You got me there.” His smile was luminous, and definitely mischievous.

“But, yes, the noises coming from Gil’s room certainly aren’t helping,” I told him, pretending that was the reason I hadn’t been sleeping for the past couple of months. A roommate with a penchant for loud sexual encounters was a good excuse, so I went with it. “It’s like he checks these women’s decibel level before he brings them home. They keep getting louder and louder.”

“At least someone’s getting laid,” he told me with a wry grin.

“You took three chicks last night, asshole,” I told him. I knew he’d gotten laid. And if by some strange reason he hadn’t, it wasn’t because it hadn’t been available to him.

“Did you see what that one chick was doing to the other one? It was so fucking—”

I held my hand up to his face. I did not want to hear about it. Ever.

It was bad enough that I was going through a drought. In fact, I hadn’t been with a man since I’d broken up with Adrian a year ago. Not that I had any intention of mentioning that. Especially not in front of Gavin.

“So, you’re saying you didn’t sleep with them?” I asked incredulously, keeping the topic on him.

I knew Gavin better than he knew himself. We’d been friends since elementary school, and he’d always been popular with the opposite sex. Maybe not quite the man whore that Gil was (though he ran a close second), but I knew Gavin had been with several women as of late.

“I didn’t say that,” he stated, that devilish smirk out in full force.

“I guess I don’t have to wonder whether you’ve stopped doing them in pairs.”

The guilty look he shot my way said that he hadn’t stopped. I certainly did not envy the women who ended up in Gavin’s crosshairs. Sure, he was a good-looking guy—blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, leanly muscled, covered in tats—and he had a good heart, but I knew Gavin would likely never settle down. He enjoyed being single, picking up chicks, taking them back to his room and… Well, I didn’t want to think past that.

I had lived with Gavin for six months before Gil had moved in with us. So, for two and a half years, we’d been friends-
slash
-roommates, nothing more. I’d listened to countless encounters that had involved Gavin and some woman he’d met at a bar or wherever he’d been for the night. And to this day, I tried not to think about them. The same way I tried not to think about the chicks Gil banged on a nightly basis. It turned my stomach and not because I was jealous.

In fact, it had never bothered me that Gavin or Gil had a healthy sex life—hearing about it, on the other hand, I didn’t particularly like. But I had never had an issue with
who
they hooked up with. Still didn’t.

However, at one point, I had almost moved out and not because they were man whores. I’d considered moving out because I’d needed to in order to keep from damaging my relationship with Gavin. Thanks to … well, thanks to what I’d come to think of as The Incident. The incident with Adrian that would’ve caused major friction between Gavin and me, and likely would’ve ruined our friendship had I not handled things the way that I had. So, in order to salvage the most important relationship in my life, I had manipulated the truth about what had actually happened with the man whose name I would not be mentioning.

The fact was, Gavin was always taking care of me. He was my closest friend, the one person I shared everything with. Since we were kids, we’d been close. Never once had we ever crossed that friendship line, nor had we ever had the desire to. Clean, wholesome friends was what we were.

“You get any inspiration yet?”

I shook my head, then picked at the label on my beer. “It’s been a year, G. You think I should be worried?” I could pinpoint right down to the day when all my inspiration had disappeared. The same day I’d witnessed the guy I was dating screwing some chick in the ass. My mind had been blank ever since.

Gavin placed his arm across my chair and thumped me on the shoulder. “Nope. I think you should go with it.”

“Go with it? Are you fucking crazy?” I couldn’t simply
go with it
. If I did, my career would be over. I couldn’t spend the rest of my days tattooing flowers and fucking butterflies on people. That wasn’t what I’d set out to do in the beginning.

“Relax, Presley. It’s all good.”

I didn’t bother to tell him that I couldn’t relax. In fact, I was getting myself worked up more and more these days. With every passing minute, I was freaking out a little more. And quite frankly, it scared the shit out of me.

While I continued to peel the corner of the label from my bottle, I said, “Have you heard about that art contest? The big one that’s coming up?”

“You mean the one from that shop in California? With the grand prize of five grand?”

I nodded. Although I’d entered numerous contests over the years, rarely did they have a grand prize amount that came remotely close to that. This would be huge for me.

“You gonna enter?”

“I thought about it.” Right up until I’d realized I couldn’t draw shit anymore. At that point, it would’ve been stupid and naïve to think I could win. Although, the money they were offering… It was worth the attempt no matter what, especially since I’d drained a significant portion of my savings with the down payment on the condo.

Only I didn’t have a design idea.

“You up for that?”

I shook my head. In the mindset I’d been in, I wasn’t up for much of anything.

“When’s the deadline?” Gavin asked.

“February twenty-second.” Not nearly enough time to come up with a design and perfect it.

I was so screwed.

I peered over at Gavin, noticing that he was eyeing some girl in the corner. I followed his gaze, giving the woman a quick once-over. She was pretty, if very young. Twenty-one, at most. Not surprising—Gavin liked the younger ones, but thankfully he insisted they were legal drinking age. This girl’s café au lait skin glowed beneath the spotlight above her, and her dark eyes were sparkling with interest. And that … the interested part … was definitely Gavin’s type.

I sighed, knowing that I’d lost Gavin for the night. When he set his sights on a woman, he would be of no use to me anymore. Not that he would blow me off for a hookup. He wasn’t like that. But I knew he would be preoccupied for the rest of the night, so instead, I generally blew him off. It was easier that way. The last thing I wanted to be was the cock-blocking best friend.

“Hey, you know what? I forgot that I had something to do.”

Gavin looked down his nose at me. “You’re a horrible liar, Pres. I’m good. That girl’ll be there for a while.”

Ignoring him, I pushed back my chair, downed what was left of my beer, and got to my feet. “I thought I’d come hang out with you next Saturday.”

“While I work?” His eyes lit up as though that was the best news he’d heard all week.

“Yep.” I grabbed my hoodie from the back of my chair, then patted him on the top of the head. “I’ll see you at home later?”

“Yeah.” Gavin grinned up at me. Before I made it two steps away, Gavin gently grabbed my wrist, turning me back to him. “Hey, I meant to tell you, Adrian’s back in town in a couple of weeks. Thought maybe the three of us could go out one night. Have some beers.”

Adrian. Gavin’s older brother. The man I had absolutely no desire to see ever again. I should’ve told Gavin no; instead, I smiled and said, “Yeah, sure.”

I was such a fucking pussy.

Chapter Eleven

Jake

Sunday afternoon

“So, was it everything you’d thought it would be?” I asked Abby as we walked out of the movie theater to my car. It had started to drizzle and the temperature seemed to be dropping, so we hurried across the parking lot, and I hit the button to remotely start the car.

Abby shrugged. “It wasn’t the worst movie I’ve ever seen.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “When people say that about my books, it means they didn’t particularly care for it. In fact, one reviewer said that, then followed it up by saying they would’ve rather read a book on how to make glass.”

“Hey, making glass is interesting,” Abby noted.

I stared down at her when we stopped at my car. “Really?”

“No.”

I frowned; she laughed.

She continued to smile as she said, “Let’s just say, I don’t plan to see it again.”

“I’m with you there,” I told her, opening the car door for her, then closing it when she was inside. I made my way around the car, then hopped in and turned up the heat. “Pizza?”

“Yes,” she said excitedly. “I’m starving.”

“Me, too.”

“I don’t know how you can be hungry,” Abby said with a chuckle. “You ate all the popcorn.”

“I did not. Last I recall, that bucket was in your lap.”

“Yes, because I had to steal it from you so I’d get a little bit.”

“Not buying it,” I teased, pulling out of the parking space and heading toward the pizza place Abby liked.

Neither of us said much on the drive over, and after I paid for the pizza buffet and we filled our plates high and grabbed sodas, we secured a booth near the front, away from all the kids hanging out by the arcade games.

For a few minutes, I let her eat in silence while I looked around at all the people. Little kids were running around unsupervised, older kids were laughing and joking while they played the arcade games, a couple of people were trying their hand at the machine with the big claw used to grab stuffed animals that were too heavy for it to lift. And the people behind the counter were yelling pleasantries to customers coming and going from the restaurant.

I had absolutely no idea why Abby liked this place. It was like a pizza joint on crack.

When it became apparent she had no intention of chatting with me, I decided to kick off a conversation. “So, how’re things at school?”

Abby’s green eyes lifted to meet mine. “Better.”

“Than…?”

“Better than last year,” she said, shoving pizza in her mouth, probably in an effort to avoid my questions.

Abby was a sophomore this year, so I figured that was a large part of why things were better. Freshman year of high school sucked; didn’t matter who you were. New school, older kids, teachers who were hanging by a thread of sanity… It was no wonder it’d been so rough for her last year.

“And your grades?”

Abby rolled her eyes and smiled. “All As, as usual.”

That didn’t surprise me. Although she’d had a rough time, Abby had never let her grades slip, not even when she’d transferred schools in the middle of the school year.

“And your mom?” I probed.

“A pain in the ass,” she said, her eyes once again cast down at the table.

“In a good way or a bad way?” I knew that Paige had been overprotective since Abby’s suicide attempt, which I couldn’t necessarily blame her for. Shit, she’d been that way even before that. I figured it had a lot to do with Paige becoming a mother at such a young age.

“She’s better than she was,” Abby admitted. “It helps that the counselor is telling her to back off.”

Fifteen was a rough age for any kid. And since Paige had gotten pregnant with Abby when she was a senior in high school, and Abby’s father was a low-life small-time drug dealer who spent more time in jail than out of it, she’d had it harder than some kids.

“She loves you,” I reminded Abby.

“I know she does. That doesn’t mean she has to check my cell phone every day, or monitor my emails.”

I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth, watching my niece carefully. At fifteen, she looked a lot older than that. And she was very pretty. Too pretty, at times, and I knew that worried Paige. Abby had shown an interest in boys from an early age, and I knew my sister worried that Abby would go down the same path she had.

But Abby and I had had this conversation time and time again, and I could tell by the look on her face that she knew what I was about to say. Before I could get the words out, she put her hand up.

“Save it, Uncle Jake. I get it. I fucked up. I did something stupid.”

She didn’t need me to lecture her, but whenever I was with her, I was compelled to see how she was. And not the basic questions that meant little to anyone. Since that fateful day when she’d tried to kill herself, things had certainly changed for Abby. I would like to think for the better, and that was due to my sister’s devotion to getting Abby medical help for her mental illness. Shortly after the attempt, Abby had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, and according to the doctor, if left untreated, things would go south again quickly.

“You’re still taking your meds, right?”

“I am.” Abby sat up straight. “I promise I’m not that same kid anymore.”

Reaching out, I touched her hand. “I know that and your mom knows that, too. But you have to be patient with us all. We love you, Abs. That’s why we’re being a pain in your ass.”

I smiled, and she returned it.

“Thanks for taking me to the movie. Even if it was a crappy one,” Abby said, looking more like the little kid I used to see only on holidays. “It helps.”

“What? Seeing crappy movies?” I joked. “Whatever works, kid. I’ve got a list of all-time bad movies, so we’re set for some time if that’s what you need.”

Her laugh was genuine, and I could see the light had returned in her eyes, which made me breathe a little easier.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” I offered.

“I know that. And Mom tells me the same thing. And I’ll talk. When I need to.”

“Still seeing the therapist?”

Abby nodded.

“Is it helping?”

Her gaze lifted once more and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Actually, it is. A lot more than I’d ever admit to Mom.”

“Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

The two of us ate in silence for a few minutes, and when Abby’s plate was nearly empty, I forced myself to stop eating, leaning back in the booth and spreading my arms across the back. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I dunno.”

“We could go bowling.”

Abby gave me her perfected
get real
face and I grinned.

“You won’t catch me in those ugly shoes.”

“Okay, fine. How ’bout we go back to your house and I kick your ass at Halo.”

“You’re on. But, Uncle Jake?” She stared back at me, head cocked, one eyebrow raised.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t kicked my ass once, so I’m not sure why you think this time’ll be any different.”

“There’s a first time for everything, kid.”