Xavier

The breath catches in my throat as I watch the way her head tilts back while she soaks in the warmth of the day. Her hair falls down her back in waves, the ends kissing the sand. I bite back a groan as the urge to grip those silky auburn strands in my hands overwhelms me. Fuck, it’s been like this for weeks.

I can still remember the first time I saw her. One glance and it was as if I’d been sucker punched in the stomach. I couldn’t catch my breath. I’d sat on an old wooden bench seat overlooking Merewether beach after grabbing some lunch from one of the cafes nearby. I had just lifted the coffee to my lips when I spotted her. She was walking along the sand, the water rushed over her feet and she bent down to pick up a shell. As she lifted it to her eyes, the sun shone around her. It was as if everything else disappeared and it was just her and me, the smell of salt in the air.

Her long auburn hair fluttered around her, lifted by the soft sea breeze. Her curvy hips swayed as she walked, but it was the look on her face which took me off guard and had everything in me standing to attention. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and keep her safe, but instead I stayed rooted to the spot and watched as she made her way along the sand. I couldn’t take my eyes from her. She seemed so lost and far away. From the first day I saw her, I wanted to go to her, claim her. It was like a force was pulling me to her, but the faraway look in her eyes, the pain, held me back. So, instead, every day I sit on the same bench, eat my lunch and wait for her to come. 

Pushing through the glass doors of Xtreme Ink on Darby street, I soak in the familiar atmosphere which always surrounds me. I know, no matter what happens, this place is where I belong.

I bought Xtreme Ink a few years back. No matter what shit is thrown my way, I know this place settles me. I look around at the bare brick walls which have copper pipes running along them. Black framed photos, showcasing peoples tattoos in each of them, hang from the pipes. Copper pendant lights hang above each one highlighting the images below. I soak it all in, from the charcoal tiles on the floor to the roof with its bare wooden beams left open and on display. A huge copper fan spins slowly, circulating and cooling the air. It resembles an old warehouse but is a smaller version. It doesn’t matter what happens outside this place because being in here centers me.

I pass by the huge, black leather lounge which sits along one wall and the sleek black desk in the waiting area before heading towards the hallway which leads to a small kitchen at the back of the shop. I need a coffee.

My best friend, Beau strolls out of the kitchen and gives me a chin lift. I hired him not long after I bought the place. He looks like a mean bastard with his dark hair and sharp blue eyes. He stands an inch shorter than my 6’4” and is covered in tattoos. We have known each other since we were kids and nothing gets past him, including my bad mood.

“What’s happening, mate?" he calls out as I storm past him, not interested in stopping to talk.

I grunt in reply not in the fucking mood for his candy ass today. I should have known better than to think he’d leave me the fuck alone when he starts following me into the kitchen.

“X what’s up, man?” He leans against the bench as I make my coffee, eyes boring into me.

Erica, another one of my tattoo artists walks in wearing a large pair of black sunglasses. She looks pale, pasty, like she has been hugging the toilet bowl all night.

“You sick?" I ask her while attempting to ignore Beau.

I can feel his eyes still on me, but don’t want to get into shit right now. Especially before my morning coffee. How could I even begin to explain what the fuck is going on with me when I don’t even know? Fuck! I’m no fucking saint. I’ve had my fair share of women but this woman does something to me and I’ve been trapped in some kind of fucking bubble ever since.

From the first time I laid eyes on her, nobody has come up to scratch and my cock has no interest in anybody else. I haven’t even said two words to this woman. One fucking look! One fucking look was all it took. I may as well cut my balls off and give them to her.

Erica speaks, snapping me back to the present. I need to have my head fucking examined, this zoning out shit is not fucking helping.

“I think I had too much to drink last night." She groans, flops into a seat at the small table in the middle of the room and lowers her head to the table. Her mousy blonde hair fans out around her.

“You good to go today or not?" I snap.

Fuck, that’s all I need today, to have to find someone to cover her shift. I may have no choice but to call in Justin even though he’s worked the past seven days straight and I know he needs a day off. We’re usually pretty quiet on a Thursday, but for some reason, I’m fully booked and so is Beau. We can’t take walk ins today which is why I asked Erica to come in, she could cover anyone who comes in.

“What’s up your ass?" she hisses out.

I look over my shoulder in time to see her wince at the loudness of her own voice. Fuck, it's going to be a long day. I shake my head and turn back to focus on the coffee. I have no intention of talking about it. I’m a private person, I don’t share much, even with Beau.

“Nothing," I finally manage to grunt.

Fuck! I need to get my shit together. Running my hand down the side of my face, I feel the rough stubble from not shaving, there’s a few days growth. Fuck, I can’t even be bothered to shave. I blow out a deep breath, pick up my coffee and head towards the door. I’m done with this shit today and it’s not even 9 am yet.

“I think some pussy has him all fucked up.” Beau laughs from behind me.

I feel my muscles tense and lock when he says the word pussy. I’m used to him being a man whore and the shit which comes out of his mouth, but for some reason, possessiveness grips me when he calls my mystery girl – pussy. Before I have a chance to call him on it, Erica pipes up.

“You’re fucking disgusting sometimes, Beau."

“What the fuck ever, you love my ass,” he fires back, still chuckling.

I shake my head and head towards my station while Erica continues giving him shit. It's the same shit, just a different day with them. They need to fuck each other and get it out of their system, even I can feel the tension between the two of them.

After a couple of mouthfuls of coffee, I start to feel a little better. After placing the coffee down on my desk, I reach over and flick on the power of the sound system which is built into the wall. The first bars of Enter Sandman by Metallica blasts from the speakers. Grabbing plastic wrap, I go about preparing my station before my first client arrives.

Leaning back in my chair, I stretch the aching muscles in my back after finishing a huge piece of a dragon on the guy’s back. It’s fucking stunning, but I felt like I was going crossed eyed while making sure not to fuck up the intricate detail on the damn thing. Rolling my head back on my shoulders, I push to my feet. I’m in desperate need of another coffee.

“Thanks man, it’s fucking awesome.” Jeff, my client, studies the tatt in the large mirror on the wall. This is his third visit to get this piece done. I’m stoked it turned out great and he likes it.

“No probs, man. Go and see Erica out the front, she’ll fix you up.” I nod towards the front desk where Erica is busy doing some paperwork.

“Sure, maybe I’ll finally get that date I’ve been after.” He smiles before sauntering towards the front, his shirt still off.

I turn to look at Beau when he growls low in his throat. He doesn’t notice me, he’s totally focused on Jeff and I swear I hear him mumble – like fuck.

I shake my head and look through the cut-out window which lets us see the waiting area out front. A chuckle leaves me when Jeff leans over the desk and runs a finger down the side of Erica’s face. I laugh harder when Beau jumps to his feet and rushes out to the front.

“Erica, I can fix him up, go grab yourself a coffee,” Beau barks out.

I don’t hear her reply as I head down the hall, but I have confidence in Erica’s ability to handle herself....and Beau.  

I flick the kettle on and glance up at the clock. It’s almost 2pm. Another hour and I’ll take my lunch break. Hopefully, I’ll get to see my girl. Fuck, I run a hand down the side of my face. How the shit did she become my girl?

“What the fuck is Beau’s problem?” Erica snarls as she steps into the kitchen.

I’m amazed she has to ask. Beau has had a hard on for her ever since he first saw her, but his usual come ons haven’t worked on her at all. I shrug, not giving the game away, this shit is funny to watch.

“Fucking men,” she grumbles as she moves towards the fridge.

“Your father just walked in as Jeff left,” she says over her shoulder.

She speaks just as the man himself walks through the door.

“Son,” he smiles while looking around.

“Dad, is everything okay? Do you want a coffee?”

“Everything is fine. Can’t I just stop by to see my son?” He chuckles “Coffee would be good.”.

I go about fixing another cup as he takes a seat at the table.

“What’s happening, dad?” I ask as I pour milk into the cups.

“I’ll just be out front, I’ll call out when your next appointment turns up.”

“Thanks Erica.” I continue stirring the coffees.

Dad stops by probably once a week to chat and I don’t mind. My father is my fucking hero. He used to be a firefighter and had always wanted me to be one. The day I came home and told him I wanted to be a tattoo artist, I thought he’d lose his shit but he has supported me since the beginning. He even sends his old fire buddies to see me as well as the new recruits. He still trains the new guys but doesn’t work in the field anymore, not since my mom got sick.

“How’s mom doing?” I feel a lump form in my throat every time I think of her.

“Good, she misses you.” He nods and looks down at his cup when I place it in front of him.

I notice how much older he seems to look today. He's a big man with dark hair and green eyes, I look just like him except, I have more tattoos than he does. I notice his hair has a few more grays spread throughout and the dark circles under his eyes seem to be blacker. I know he finds it hard to sleep. My mother is his soulmate and knowing he can’t do shit to help her, guts him.

One night over drinks, he had a little too much and told me how much it fucks with his head. He hates knowing there is nothing he can do to stop this fucking disease from taking her mind. It must be hard as shit for the love of your life not to know who you are after so long. My parents have been together since they left high school. My father said, from the moment he set eyes on my mum, he knew she was the one for him.

I clear my throat and try to concentrate on the conversation instead of thinking about all the other shit. It makes me think of the situation I find myself in with my mystery girl and now is not the time to be thinking of her.

“I saw her on Monday.”

“Yeah, the nurse told me. She also said it was a bad day.”

I nod, it was a bad day. I doubt she remembers I was even there. What the fuck, I doubt she even knew who I was! My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease last year and shit has been hard on all of us. It fucking sucks to watch such a strong woman slowly forgetting things, especially her family, those she loves most of all.

“I’ll come over after I finish work.” I watch as a small smile graces my father’s lips. I know he needs me now more than ever.

“Good, I’ll grab something on the way home and we can have dinner together.”

“Sounds good, dad.”