Inked on Paper (9 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Presley

Fuck, it was cold.

I knew I should’ve put forth the effort to find my coat, but I’d been avoiding digging through the boxes of clothes I’d allowed to grow up from the floor in my closet at all costs.

Instead, I’d settled for the thin hoodie I’d worn last weekend and a scarf I’d found draped over a box of old tattoo magazines, which did little to ward off the chill. And now, hugging my arms around my body, tucking my fingers beneath my arm pits to keep them warm, I stalked down the crowded sidewalk, ignoring the cat calls and whistles from the drunk college kids already flooding the street.

Earlier in the evening, I had considered texting Gavin to cancel on him, but after spending most of the day sleeping, then at least an hour pacing my living room, attempting to come up with something to draw that would pull me out of my funk, I’d finally thrown my hands in the air and given up. At that point, doing something to take my mind off of it was my only option. I’d learned that dwelling on the problem would only piss me off, and that wasn’t at all beneficial to anyone. Rarely had I ever summoned my inner artist when I was angry.

After making my way past most of the bars, I located the swarm of people I’d been searching for, then worked my way through the men and women lingering, talking amongst themselves.

When I broke through the crowd, I smiled.

Gavin stood at a table, shaking a can of spray paint while he chatted it up with the people, doing what he loved most. Painting and entertaining.

Because it had been a hectic week and I’d filled in for Charlie two days this week, plus picked up a few walk-ins in the evening, I hadn’t seen much of Gavin. He was usually out all night and slept most of the day, and our schedules hadn’t meshed, so it was good to see him.

When I wasn’t working at the tattoo shop, I made a point to come down to Sixth Street, especially on the weekend on those off chances I was free, to lend Gavin a hand. Since he was a one-man show, I’d heard him complain about how hard it was to handle the business end of things while trying to do what he needed to do to keep the money coming in, so I’d offered to help. Once had turned into twice, twice into three times, then once a month, and here I was again.

Granted, I rarely got down here on a Saturday night because those were good nights at the shop, but with my current mental block, I figured what the hell. Blaze, Charlie, and Gil were manning the fort; they definitely didn’t need me there to horn in on their business.

As I squeezed between two couples, I heard Gavin’s voice as he talked to the crowd.

“What would you do if you came face-to-face with Jacob Wild right now?”

The woman in front of me sighed heavily, then answered with, “Oh, gosh. I’d hug him.”

I stepped out of the throng in time to see Gavin glancing over at a man sitting on a stool beside him. I stopped, blinked several times as I peered through the spotlights set up to showcase Gavin’s work—as well as his performance—to see if the guy I’d spotted was real or merely a figment of my imagination.

I was pretty sure he was real. Which meant Gavin wasn’t talking to just
any
man. This one was the same one I’d talked to at the coffee shop last weekend.

Small world.

Gavin looked over at the guy. “Did you hear that, Mr. Wild? This young lady would like to hug you.”

There was a collective gasp from several people and then one woman squealed. Phones came out, pictures were being taken, and everyone seemed to want to know what was going on.

I was one of those people, minus the picture taking.

Jacob Wild... Jacob Wild... Where the hell had I heard that name?

And then it hit me. He was an author, the one who’d written that steamy book that they’d turned into a movie. I remembered because they’d said that his sex scenes made others in the genre look like beginners’ books. I wasn’t much of a reader but I had read the
Fifty Shades
trilogy, enjoyed it even, and, yes, the sex had been scorching, so I wasn’t sure how much truth there was in those claims.

But what I remembered most was the way people had idolized him, newscasters chomping at the bit to interview the local celebrity, pictures of him out and about all over the place.

“Hey, sweets,” Gavin greeted me as the woman ran around to the other side to hug the man I’d come to think of as Chapter One. “Glad you’re here.”

I offered Gavin a one-armed hug. “Looks like you’re busy tonight.”

“Yeah. Thank God. And it’s still early. You here to lend your expert money management skills?”

I laughed. “Yep. And you’ve got me all night. Just tell me what to do.”

“All night? I could think of a few things I could do to you all night.”

I glared up at him.

Gavin chuckled. “Fine. I’ll be good.” He pointed to one couple perusing a painting on the end. “It’s all over there. A few people are interested.” He paused and smiled at me. “You’re an angel, you know that?” Gavin put his arm around me and steered me toward the man who was now signing autographs for several women. “Presley Abrams, I’d like you to meet Jacob Wild. Jake, meet my best friend, Presley.”

Jake smiled for the camera, then turned to face Gavin. I fought the urge to laugh when his eyes widened as soon as they landed on me.

“Hey, Chapter One,” I greeted.

Gavin looked between us. “You two know each other? I don’t remember you talking to him the other night.”

The other night? I had no idea what Gavin was talking about.

“Uh … sort of,” Jake said, that deep, rumbling voice lingering on the chilly night air. He seemed to be speaking to Gavin, but he never took his eyes off me. “I’m pretty sure I gave her a concussion last weekend.”

Gavin stood up straight, his usual laid-back, casual posture taking on a defensive edge, and I immediately smacked his hard chest. “It’s not like that,” I said with a grin. “He bumped into me—accidentally—in the coffee shop. I didn’t need a hospital.” I held out my hand to Jake. “Nice to officially meet you. Did you take my advice?”

His big hand engulfed mine while those teal-blue eyes lingered on me briefly as a warm smile took over. “The once-upon-a-time thing?”

I nodded.

“Not yet, but I haven’t ruled it out completely.”

“It could be a best seller,” I told him with a wink.

“Oh, my God! It’s Jacob Wild!”

I took a step back as another woman rushed over, throwing her arms around Jake like they were long-lost lovers. I had no idea that authors were sort of like rock stars. At least it seemed that way.

I frowned as another rock star I knew came to mind. Forcing the thought away, I looked up at Gavin.

“You met him at the coffee shop?” Gavin asked me when Jake was pulled away.

“Yeah. Why?”

Gavin glanced over at Jake, then back to me. “He’s our neighbor.”

“Our what?” I looked at Jake and then I remembered.

Oh, and that guy over there. That’s Jake. He’s our neighbor.

“Neighbor,” I mumbled.

“Yep. Think the guy’s got a lower tolerance level than you. Plus, he’s got the self-control of a saint. Never made a move on any of those chicks last weekend. Actually cut out early.”

I looked at Gavin, trying to process his words, but my mind was going a million miles a minute. “Does he know that I live there?”

Gavin frowned. “No idea. It doesn’t look as though he remembers you.”

Technically, I hadn’t met him at my place, so it only made sense that he hadn’t put two and two together.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I had no idea why I didn’t want him to know I lived next door—maybe he was too much temptation for me, except that would be ridiculous.

Regardless, I didn’t want him to know. At least not yet.

“Do you read his stuff?” Gavin asked, putting his hand on my shoulder and moving me out of his way.

“No,” I told him truthfully. But I did remember hearing about him, which explained why he’d seemed so familiar. “I thought I recognized him.”

“He’s quite the celebrity around here,” Gavin explained, nodding toward Jake, who was now being slipped a piece of paper, which I assumed had a phone number on it—yep, definitely just like a rock star. “Especially since his movie premiered.”

My neighbor was a famous author. Huh.

“So, you’ve put him on the spot before?” I asked.

“Damn straight,” Gavin confirmed.

“Looks like he enjoys it.” I watched Jake chat it up with a few women, his lips curled up in a way that made me think of hot, sweaty sex.

“No, not at all,” Gavin said softly. “He’s quite shy, actually. I just like to ruffle his feathers.”

“Really?” I wouldn’t have guessed that Jake was shy. How could he be when it was clear people—namely women—obviously loved him?

A man approached Gavin, talking about an idea for a painting, and I stepped back out of the way, giving them room. I went over to the small booth that Gavin used to take payments and get mailing information. He had brought along a small propane heater, which I would definitely be utilizing since he’d had the forethought to set it up a few yards away. I could help
and
stay warm, without risking being turned into a fireball thanks to all the spray paint.

After familiarizing myself with everything, I hopped up on the wooden counter and watched Gavin work. A few minutes later, Jake made his way over, casually leaning against the post beside me.

I studied him momentarily. “So, you’re famous, huh?”

Those pretty eyes lifted to mine and I noticed the long dark lashes that ringed them. He really was attractive. Hell, he could’ve been a male model if the writing thing didn’t work out, but I figured he already knew that based on the trail of drooling women he left behind him.

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he said, voice low, gruff.

“Could’ve fooled me. Those women were quite excited to meet you.”

“They would’ve never recognized me if Gavin didn’t have a big mouth.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. Now that I knew who he was, I definitely remembered where I’d seen him. That handsome face had been plastered all over the news when they’d been making that movie, a few of the scenes shot right here in Austin. “Maybe not, but it doesn’t make it any less true. So how did you meet Gavin?”

Jake glanced down at his phone, then pulled his hood up over his head before changing positions, moving around to my other side and leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. When I’d seen him in the coffee shop, I hadn’t noticed how big he was, probably because he’d been sitting down. He was on the very tall side, a couple of inches over six feet if I had to guess. To my five foot two, that was big.

“I met him here,” Jake said. “Well, technically at another location a block down, where he’d been set up. We’ve hung out a few times in the past year.”

“Really?” I glanced over at Gavin, who was currently going to town on another painting, completely in his element. Funny how my best friend had been hanging out with a celebrity for a year, yet he’d never mentioned it.

“And you? How do you know him?”

I smiled at the memory. “I beat him up in the third grade. We’ve been friends ever since.”

Jake’s rough chuckle made me cross my legs, the sound sending a strange shiver of awareness just beneath my skin. Not that I had any intention of doing anything about that, but I couldn’t deny that he made me very aware of how close he was standing, of how good he smelled.

We sat there in silence for a while, both of us watching Gavin, until a woman approached and I had to help her with a payment. I took the woman’s information down, ran her credit card, and told her the painting she’d purchased would be shipped out on Monday first thing.

Another couple came over and I helped them as well. By the time I was finished, I looked up to see that Jake was gone. I briefly scanned the area, looking at all the faces, surprised to see that he’d disappeared.

And when I felt a twinge of disappointment, I shrugged it off completely.

The last thing I needed in my life was another rock star—no matter what the definition.

One had been plenty, and I had the tire tracks on my back to prove it.

Chapter Fifteen

Jake

Starting a book was never easy. At least not for me. The process was often tedious, requiring a lot of thought. I usually spent so much time trying to come up with a way to begin—something that sparked interest in the first few lines—that I needed a breather before I could even start.

I wanted something that would hook the reader, make them want to keep reading.

For me, the first few words were always the hardest. Always.

Hmm.

I thought about the hot chick with the coral hair—Presley Abrams—and smiled as my pen moved across the first line.

Once upon a time…

I stared at those four words for a moment, remembering Presley’s suggestion the first day I’d seen her in the coffee shop. She had been glancing down at those two puny words I’d had there at the time.

What would she think if she ever read my book? Would she remember that day? That particular conversation? I still remembered the sound of her voice, the way she looked at me when she spoke.

Another smile formed on my lips and I started writing.

Oh, who the fuck was she kidding?

Once upon a time only happened in fairy tales, and Kora Madison’s day-to-day was anything but. Sure, perhaps her life bore an eerie resemblance to
a fairy tale
Cinderella’s, but not in the sense of Prince Charming coming in to save the day.

It was Prince Charming, right? He was the hero in that book? Admittedly, it had been a long,
long
time since I’d read a fairy tale, if ever. I glanced over at my laptop, considered doing a little research. That quickly passed, though. If I started researching, I’d get lost in it. The first rule was to write, so that was what I chose to do.

If that were the case, Kora would be getting hot and sweaty in her
Nissan
Honda Civic with a sexy guy wearing leather and smelling like sin. Riding him hard and fast, making him gasp and moan, the same way he would be making her gasp and moan. All while they rocked the wheels of her tiny car on their way to oblivion.

The only part Kora resembled was the hot and sweaty, but it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with her nerves. Last she’d checked, she was the only one in her car, so it looked as though public sex was out of the question.

Hmm. Public sex. I liked the idea.
Really
liked the idea.

Glancing down at the paper, I decided to worry about the sex scenes later.

Okay, and no, she didn’t have a stepmother, either, wicked or otherwise, but she did have a sister. And well … wicked was one way to describe the woman who’d purposely slept with Kora’s longtime boyfriend, the man Kora had mistakenly believed one day she would marry. Granted, Sam wasn’t innocent in all of this, either—nor was his dick. In fact, the guy was a prick, a prick who had—behind Kora’s back—been
screwing
banging Kora’s sister for months.

Yep, I could sense it already, Sam was a total dick. The character women wanted to castrate because he was too stupid for air. Sleeping with your girlfriend’s sister? Not cool at all.

But Kora didn’t have time to dwell on that shit. She had more important things to focus on. Much more important. Like, how she was going to get past all the scathing glares when she walked into the restaurant where her sister’s baby shower was being held.

I imagined all of those people looking at my female lead, watching to see what she would do. But they were also admiring her, albeit secretly. She was the girl everyone wanted to be, even if they didn’t understand why.

Had she mentioned that not only was her sister wicked, she was also pregnant?

Yep, she was.

With Sam the Prick’s child.

Kora sighed and reached for the door handle. One breath at a time, she managed to push open the door, step out into the cool evening breeze, adjust her skirt, then force her legs to carry her away from her car.

My mind drifted to what shoes she’d be wearing. Not because I was that far into Kora’s head but because, as a guy, shoes were important. Those fuck-me heels that women favored… Oh, yeah. Definitely what Kora was wearing.

It would be so easy to hop back in her car, pull out of the lot, and never look back, but unfortunately, she had to go in. Everyone would think she was the devil incarnate if she didn’t. Since she was already
twenty minutes
half an hour late, she was sure they’d come up with a
dozen
million reasons as to why, none of which would paint her in a
decent
flattering light. After all, her family and friends already believed she’d been the one to break up with
poor
Sam, the one who had all but pushed him into her sister’s arms.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

My thoughts immediately veered to a story Gavin had once told me. We’d been at the Lizard Lounge, drinking beer and chilling. Or maybe we’d been drinking something stronger. I couldn’t remember. And it didn’t matter.

Anyway, Gavin had told me about the one time he’d interfered in one of his friends’ relationships, setting it up so the friend realized what a prick her boyfriend was. But Gavin had been surprised because the friend had taken responsibility for the breakup, though Gavin had been certain they’d broken up because she’d caught the guy cheating. At the time, I hadn’t thought anything of it, but I liked the idea, liked the underlying premise.

No, she wasn’t at fault, but for some godforsaken reason, Kora had taken the wrath of her family and friends, allowed them to believe the lie because it had been easier than the truth. In their eyes, she was the one who couldn’t be tamed. Wild and
unruly
uncontrollable was how most people described her. Oh, and unfaithful. That one had been added to the list, though Kora had never cheated. Not on a test, and certainly not on the only man she’d ever been in a relationship with.

What other things did people cheat on? I made a side note to look. Surely I could come up with one more thing to enhance the story.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t outrun her past, couldn’t get away from the
mistakes she’d made as a teenager
reputation she’d
been given
somehow earned, and now, it seemed she was being punished all the more.

What she wouldn’t give to have a
white knight
handsome prince and a fairy godmother, someone to swoop in and offer a distraction because this … walking into the baby shower and facing the disappointment of her past … this was going to be a fucking nightmare.

Yes, I definitely liked this character. She had balls. She was smart, and though she’d been dealt a shitty hand, she was strong enough to overcome.

I stared down at the page, and the name of my hero popped into my head. I would have to add it to the list of characters I kept on a spreadsheet so I would be sure not to use it again. But I would again have to do that later.

Right now, I had words that needed to be written.

Donovan Brashwood never thought he’d see the day he was attending a baby shower. Willingly. But it appeared that day had come.

Wait. How old was this guy? I preferred my characters be in their thirties mostly. A little older to give them some life experience. Maybe he was thirty? Thirty-two? How old was Kora?

A million thoughts ran through my head, so I put the pen in the book and went over to the whiteboard, picking up the black marker. I stared at the words scrawled across the board. I had outlined Kora some. Wispy blonde hair and stormy gray eyes. And I knew I wanted her to be tall. One of those women who drew your eye when she walked into the room, the kind who commanded attention without realizing. Okay. So she was five six. Not too tall.

That meant I could make Donovan over six feet. Maybe six two?

I glanced at the list of his traits. Black hair, emerald-green eyes, clean cut, wore expensive suits. Definitely the kind of guy who would look at home anywhere. Even if he didn’t want to be there, he could command the room.

Dropping the marker, I went back to the desk, picked up my pen, and continued.

Weren’t these things supposed to be for women? Since when had it become appropriate to wrangle the men into them as well?

I had to agree with Donovan. I’d never been to a baby shower, either, and didn’t have any plans to in the future.

No, Donovan didn’t have answers to those questions, but he had to admit, so far it wasn’t bad. There was an open bar, which he’d already taken advantage of, as well as free food. And from what he could tell, there was only one game.

NOTE: Look up what kinds of games are played at baby showers.

Not that Donovan would let any of his friends know he’d willingly spent a Saturday night at a baby shower, but still. He was committed, so he figured what the hell. Definitely not the most exciting thing he’d done as of late, but the alcohol was helping.

Then she walked in and the night took an immediate turn.

For the better, he hoped.

Kora Madison.

As she moved across the room, Donovan noticed how heads turned and whispers started. He had to give her credit, she was brave. Considering this was her sister’s baby shower and the proud father was none other than her lying, cheating ex.

Yeah, it appeared no one else knew the
reasons
circumstances behind Sam and Kora’s breakup, but Donovan did. After all, Sam was his pain-in-the-ass kid brother. There was a five-year gap in their ages, but growing up, they’d been relatively close. Right up until Donovan had moved out of their small backwoods Texas town and ventured to the big city.

I definitely needed to add some details here. Why did he go to the city? Which city? What did he do? Those were all questions I would table for another time, needing to get words down to see where this was going.

Donovan had never understood why Sam hadn’t introduced him to Kora during the two years
they
the pair had dated, until right at that moment. If Kora had been his girl, Donovan would’ve wanted to keep her locked away himself, spending every waking moment ravaging her. She was…

My thoughts instantly drifted to Presley.

Fuck. Kora took his breath away, made him want things. Stupid things. And he wasn’t simply talking about endless nights of orgasms, either.

“You see her?”
someone
the man sitting at the table in front of Donovan said to the woman beside him. “She walks in here like that. It’s no wonder Sam had to seek solace in Trina’s arms. It’s obvious she’s a whore.”

Donovan reached for the man’s chair, yanking it backward, leaving the
man
guy flailing to keep from falling back. The balding bastard squeaked louder than the chair legs on the tiled floor. Leaning down, Donovan kept his tone lethal. “Don’t let me hear that come out of your mouth ever again. Understand?”

The man’s eyes widened as he nodded his head.

Donovan released him, then took his place against the wall once more. Now that he had something to keep him occupied, he wasn’t dreading the next couple of hours.

In fact, now he was looking forward to them.

As did I.

Not bad for a rough draft. I knew in the end it would be much better, but for now, it worked.