I think the shop is technically closed, but I shoulder through the front door and see Dylan sitting at the front desk. I quickly close the door behind us, lock it, and close the blinds.

The shop is called Big D’s, and the owner’s name precedes him. It’s right there above the entrance of the shop, lit up big and bright and there for everyone on the boardwalk to see.

“Closed,” he grunts without looking up.

Big D fits his namesake. I should know. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. He’s a fucking awesome tattoo artist, but he’s also worked with me on the road, doing security for a few tours.

“It’s me,” I say back to him with Cassie held tight on my hip, walking over to the front desk.

Big D doesn’t look up from his sketchbook, but I watch as a smile spreads across his lips.

“I haven’t seen you in a fucking minute,” he says, throwing his pencil down and standing up to shake my hand.

Big D is the kind of guy who could steal your girl, but wouldn’t. Big D is the kind of guy who drinks hard, talks hard and is really just a big, muscled teddy bear.

“Been working,” I say. “You really closed?”

“Technically,” he says. He turns his attention away from me and takes in Cassie softly, regarding her with a respectful distance before going over to the front door of his shop and pulling all the blinds closed a little bit tighter.

“I’m Cassie,” she says, sticking her hand out for him. She’s used to shaking hands with people, being what people want her to be, and she’s damn good at it, too. “Old friend of Jason’s.”

I look down at her and watch as she catches herself in the truth. She should have told a lie on purpose. Imagine that - slipping up and accidentally telling the truth. Cass looks up at me and raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, um...I mean…”

“It’s okay,” I interject, “Dylan and I go back a long time. You don’t have to keep up the ruse with him.”

“Okay,” Dylan says with a laugh, “now you’ve piqued my interest.”

* * *

We tell Dylan everything, staying by his side as he closes up his shop. We go outside and watch as he pulls the big metal grating down over the front windows where he has portraits of some of his best work on display. But the one thing he never shuts down is the glowing light over his shop, the one that proudly displays his namesake.

“I’ve done some pretty outlandish shit in my time,” he says, tugging on his chin as his eyes pass between me and Cassie, “but pretending to be engaged for publicity? I guess if it works for you, that’s cool.”

We slip back into his studio and he shuts the big storm door behind us, then follow him up to his apartment above the shop. I’ve been here before. It’s the best property on the whole damn boardwalk, and it’s some shit studio apartment. It’s got the best damn view though, unobstructed by even a lifeguard’s stand.

“You guys want anything?” he says as he pushes the door to the apartment open. “Beer? I don’t have a lot of stuff here. I mostly use this place as like a vacation spot.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Cassie says, taking a seat at the small table in Dylan’s kitchen. He hands me and her each a beer and closes the fridge with a quick swing of his hip.

I look out the big picture window and watch the rolling waves, taking a sip of my beer. I could use a cigarette; I’m a smoker, and I’m not proud of it, but I especially like smoking when I drink. I like having the chemicals coursing through my veins. I don’t want to abandon Cassie, though, even if it would be only for a few minutes. And even more, having her around is calming and exciting all at the same time. It sounds crazy to me, but she’s almost like a drug.

“Hey,” I say, “do you remember when I took you to that party when you were, what, twenty?”

“I was nineteen,” she replies, “and yes, I remember it. My brother said you were a bad influence because you allowed me to drink. And I told him it wasn’t your influence, and I told him that I actually had begged you to take me. It wasn’t your idea at all. I’m not sure if he ever really believed that, though.”

The three of us wile away the better part of a couple hours, sharing stories. It feels good. It feels good to reminisce with her, to compare notes, to contrast our experience of growing up together with Dylan’s experience of growing up alone. It’s fun, and by the time we’re on our third or fourth beer, I notice that Cassie is growing slightly restless. I can tell, because she pulls her leg up underneath her like she always does when she starts feeling nervous, like she has somewhere to be.

“Is everything alright, Cass?” I ask, putting my hand on hers softly.

“Yeah,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I just don’t know if I’ve had this much fun in a long time.”

“You aren’t tired?” I ask.

“I’ve been tired for the past four years,” she replies, her bright blue eyes are sleepy and ringed with red. I think it’s from all the laughing we’ve been doing, or maybe we’re just getting a little bit drunk. “I’ve been on the pageant circuit too long. I’m too old for this shit.”

She surprises me with that. I thought she loved it. I thought she’d do anything to save her career.

“Life on the road is hard,” Dylan say to Cassie, cocking his chin toward her. “You don’t have to say that to me twice. Me and Jason have been on tour together before. You don’t get to have your own schedule. You’re at the goddamn whim of someone else. Most of the time, you don’t even know who is in charge. You just have to go along with whatever shit’s thrown at you.”

“That’s what I like about it,” Cassie says, feigning excitement. “But that’s also what fucking sucks about it.”

Big D scoops our empty beer bottles off the table and walks over to the sink to put them in there, flashing Cassie a sympathetic look.

“I know you guys came by trying to get tattoos. Sleep on it. Come back in a couple days and tell me what you want.”

“I’d really like that,” Cassie says, looking over at me.

It’s been a long day. It’s time to take this girl home.

We say goodbye to Dylan and make our way back onto the boardwalk. We can hardly keep our hands off each other.

“Jason,” Cassie breathes as we take each other’s hands and make our way back to the hotel, “what would you do if we could just be open with each other?”

“What are you talking about, Cass?” I ask. I spin her toward me in the thick, late moonlight and bring my arms around her little waist. “I am being open with you. As open as I fucking know how to be.”

But there is still something I should tell her.

“No,” she says, her eyes grazing over my face, searching it for something. An answer, a question, I don’t know what, but she looks so fucking beautiful. I want to take her away from here for good. I want to bring her back to our hometown and make her mine forever.

And I’m not surprising myself. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.

“Not like that,” she continues, “I told you we have to be careful about the pageant, and you said that if you weren’t being careful, I’d know it. So what would you do right now if we didn’t have to be careful?”

I feel my cock stir at her words as I watch her lick her lips, making me grow hard in an instant.

“If we didn’t have to be careful, I’d fuck you right here,” I say softly, bending down to whisper in her ear, feeling her soften at my touch.

“I’m tired of being careful,” she says, pressing her little body into mine.

“If you let me, I’d wreck you,” I reply. “But you told me we can’t. You told me we have to cool down. But you’re fucking hot for me, aren’t you Cass?”

“Yes,” she moans softly. I watch as her pink lips part, her eyebrows coming together in pained pleasure, the agony of not getting exactly what she wants. Because I know she wants me to pull her little panties to the side and take her right now. She’s dripping for me, I can tell by the look on her face.

“You want me to wreck you, baby?” I ask.

Fuck it. I watch her eyes as I slide my hand up her inner thigh. Suddenly I remember this dress. She wore this dress at her high school graduation, and I told her I liked it. She looked hot in it, with her full tits and ass flaring out from a tiny little waist, and I burned for her as I watched her flirt with all the fucking boys at her graduation party.

“What does that mean?” she asks before I crush my lips against hers. Instead of telling her, I show her by going under her panties with my hungry fingers, finding her clit right away and strumming at her, rubbing wildly. She is so fucking soaked and ready for me, it’s like she wants me to ram myself into her right here.

“Wait,” she says, pulling her lips away from me. Her eyes dart down the boardwalk and she pulls away from me completely, and I allow her body to fall away from mine. “We have company again.”