I stare in awe at the art plastered on the walls. There’s a little bit of everything from dragons to skulls, and even a few fairies. Whoever drew them is crazy talented, and I can’t image ever being that good at something. I’m going to school on a football scholarship, but I don’t know what I’m going to do past that. I haven’t thought that far ahead even though I should.

Scanning the various scenes before me I wonder if Charleigh is responsible for any of them. I had every intention of calling her a few days ago to give her a piece of my mind. I’m still not happy about the tattoo, but I wasn’t exactly an easy client. Come to think of it, I should probably work on that being an asshole thing.

I can’t stop thinking about the feisty blonde. She doesn’t even look like the type of person who would have any tattoos, let alone work in a shop. She doesn’t wear the tight dresses or dramatic makeup like the female tattoo artists on those reality shows. I guess what people say is true…looks can be deceiving. But the light in her eyes when she was drawing the night we came in tells me this is her passion.

A throat clearing behind me makes me jump. I whirl around to see an older man standing at the counter Charleigh vacated. He looks vaguely familiar. Was he here the other night?

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

When the hell did this guy even come in? I didn’t hear him at all. His tall, muscular, and has tattoos covering what I can see of his arms. He’s intimidating, standing with his arms crossed, and I have a gut feeling he’s trying to be.

“No, sir,” I reply. “My buddy is in there with Bianca, and I’m out here admiring your artwork.”

I shift my weight, suddenly unable to stand still under this man’s scrutiny. I remember who he is now. Charleigh called him Corey, and I’m pretty sure they are family. He looks old enough to be her father, but I don’t think that’s right.

“They aren’t all mine,” he says. “Some of them belong to my niece.”

So, I was right. Family, and the way he’s staring at me, eyes hard, tells me he’ll do anything for her.

“You mean Charleigh?” I ask, trying to come off as nonchalant. I must be failing at it because he smirks.

“Yep, that’s her.”

“Why isn’t she tattooing today?”

I see his shoulders sag just the tiniest bit. “She has other things she has to do around the shop.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to say. At just that moment Marshall comes out of the room Bianca works in and saves me from trying to make small talk with this guy that would definitely not approve of me thinking about his niece.

“Ready to go?” Marshall asks through the stupid grin on his face. I need to drag information out of him later because he’s never had the puppy love look he’s wearing right now. Not even when he dated girls in high school.

“Yes,” I respond a little too quickly. Corey makes me nervous, and I need to talk to him anyway. He didn’t leave me much room to talk on the way here. He kept going on and on about the work he wanted added to the compass he got last time. But, I need his advice because my parents are insane.

I push open the door and a gust of hot air immediately engulfs me. It definitely feels like summer in Texas. I should be used to it by now, but it’s always shocking after leaving an airconditioned building. I can feel the sweat forming on my chest. It’s not even June, and the temperature is already enough to make people want to hide indoors.

Before I can put one foot in the direction of the truck, Marshall speaks up. “You want to grab a bite to eat while we’re here? I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and I’m starving.”

I’m about tell him no but think better of it. If we go back to his house there’s a chance Dylan and Randall will show up, and I won’t get my chance to talk to him. “Sure, I could eat.”

There’s a restaurant across the street that looks promising. We wait at the light until it’s okay for us to cross the street. I definitely don’t want to get run-over by someone paying more attention to their phone than they are the road.

Rock music is spilling from the speakers when we walk in. There’s no podium for us to wait at to be seated so we find a booth that isn’t near anyone. I don’t want anyone to hear our conversation.

We’ve barely had time to look over the menu when a waitress approaches the table. “What can I get for ya?”

“Can I get a sweet tea?” I ask. There’s nothing better on a hot day than a glass of sweet iced tea.

I’m not sure what Marshall gets to drink. I’m looking over the menu, trying to figure out if I really want to talk about this.

“Hey man, what’s up with you?” Marshall questions. “You’re studying that menu like you’re going to have a test.”

When I look up I notice our drinks are already sitting on the table. I didn’t even notice the waitress come back. Marsh must have asked for more time for us to look at the menu.

“A lot,” I reply. “This crap with Tonya and my parents is going to drive me insane.”

He places his arms on the table and leans forward. “I was wondering when you were going to bring dinner with your parents up. You pretty much went silent on everyone for the past couple of days.”

“Sorry about that,” I shrug. “I just needed to wrap my head around what my parents suggested, and it still seems ludicrous.”

Before I can continue, our waitress is back. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

Both of us order a burger and fries. It’s pretty impossible to screw that up, and since this isn’t a fast food place it will take a bit for our food to be ready.

“Let me guess,” Marshall starts. “They want you to give up your rights to Layla.”

I don’t miss that he says it as a statement. “How did you know that?” I ask, heavy on the sarcasm.

“Because your parents are insane and only think about appearances?” He rolls his eyes. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t have any idea they would want you to do that.”

I begin tearing the corner of the napkin serving as a placemat for my tea. “You’re right. I guessed that would be part of it.” I pause. “But they took it a step further.”

“I can’t wait to hear what bullshit they suggested.”

“It’s definitely shit, that’s for sure.”

He leans in even closer, “Which is?”

I sigh, shoulders sagging, defeat in my voice. “They want to basically give her a big enough amount of money to say that the baby isn’t mine.”

Marshall jerks back so hard he nearly knocks his drink over causing the few people in the restaurant to glance our direction.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyes are wide, mouth hanging open, shocked and in disbelief. “They actually suggested that? You aren’t going to agree to it, are you?”

“Hell no,” my voice rises, bring more eyes to our table. “Why would you even think I could do that?”

Our food arrives at precisely that moment. Our waitress, Ginger, according to the name tag I’m just now noticing, slides two baskets holding our burgers onto the table. “Is there anything else I can get y’all?”

I wave my hand, “No, we’re good.”

“All right, if you need anything just let me know.” She winks at me before walking back toward the bar on the other side of the room.

What in the world was up with the winking? She has to know that I’m way too young for her. I take a bite of my burger, and nearly groan because it is that good. It’s not too well done, and the condiments don’t overpower the taste.

I set the burger back in the basket and pick up a fry. “I know I screwed things up with Tonya, and she was a saint when I asked for time, but I couldn’t do that to her. Or Layla.”

“Have you talked to her since dinner with the idiots you call parents?”

“No, not yet. But I’m going to.”

“Dude,” Marshall says with every ounce of authority he can muster. He’s the only one that can get away with using that tone with me. “You need to talk to her.” He dips a fry into the pile of ketchup he’s poured on a napkin. “Before your mom gets it in her head to take matters into her own hands.”

I throw my hands up. In anger or aggravation? I don’t know. But now that he’s put that thought in my head, I wouldn’t put it past my mother to show up at Tonya’s house with her checkbook in hand.

“I will…tomorrow,” I say. I just hope she’ll hear me out. And, if I’m lucky, Reaf won’t be there.