Chapter 2

Adam

I drum my fingers to the beat of the music filtering down the hall from Royal’s workspace. Royal is one of the five tattoo artists who work for me. They’re my best friends, my family.

I lean back in my office chair and rub my eyes. The one thing I could do without when it comes to owning my own business is expense reports.

I glance at my phone beside me on the desk, part of me hoping for a new message from Phoenix. We’ve been talking regularly over the past week, and it feels like he’s starting to relax a little and open up. Any time I try to talk about his boyfriend or drug addiction he shuts down and suddenly has something important he has to do. But, as long as I keep away from those topics he’s happy to chat for hours.

It turns out we share a fucked up sense of humor so we’ve taken to trying to find the best jokes and memes to send to each other. The other day he sent me a meme that said ‘Transformation Tuesday’ and had a picture of a baby chick and then a chicken nugget. I snort a laugh remembering it.

When my phone buzzes I jump to check who the new message is from.

My face falls when I see the message isn’t from Phoenix, it’s from Kira. She’s been my on and off fuck buddy for the past few years.

 

 

Kira: Hey sexy, it’s been a while. Free tonight?

 

 

I roll my eyes at her message. It’s been a while because two months ago she gave me an ultimatum, make things official or no more booty calls. I chose the latter because Kira is as crazy as she is hot. And, as everyone knows, crazy chicks are bomb in bed but you don’t want to wife them.

 

 

Me: We can hang, but nothing’s changed for me so if that’s still what you’re looking for it’s better if we don’t complicate things

Kira: That’s ok, I just miss you. Lady Persia misses you ;)

 

 

I snort and shake my head. Did I mention she’s crazy? Proof positive; she named her pussy Lady Persia.

 

 

Me: alright, come over around eleven?

Kira: Can’t we at least get a drink first?

 

 

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I have no doubt she’s going to have a few drinks, start rubbing up against me, and then tell me I have to be her boyfriend to hit that. Fuck that, it’s so not worth it.

If I’m being honest I’m over everything to do with Kira. She’s a hard ten and the word ‘no’ isn’t anywhere in her vocabulary. On occasion I’ve tried to come up with crazy shit to suggest to her in bed just to see where her limit is, and she never flinches. I’ve fucked her in ways that most people have never dreamed of. Better yet, she never batted an eye when I’ve asked for things I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to ask someone who was more inhibited. But, we’ve had our fun and I think it’s time to move on. I at least owe it to her to tell her to her face that I’m over it.

 

 

Me: K. O’Malley’s at eleven?

Kira: Can’t wait

 

 

A knock at my office door makes me jump.

“Come on in,” I call out, setting my phone back down on my desk.

Gage peeks his head in. His dyed green hair is sticking up in all directions.

“Hey, wanted to see if you wanted to grab some lunch?”

“Yeah, totally. Can you give me five minutes to finish this damn spreadsheet?”

“Sure,” he nods and disappears again.

My stomach twists as I stare at the space where my best friend just disappeared from. Is it even fair to call him my best friend when I’ve been keeping a huge secret from him for over a decade?

The familiar panic rises in my chest as my train of thought continues down that path. I never meant to hide such a major part of myself from Gage, and the rest of the world, for so long but things got out of hand.

When I first realized I was bisexual I didn’t know how to feel about it and I wasn’t ready to tell anyone because, frankly, it was confusing. It could be argued that when Johnny came out to me when I was seventeen, that would’ve been a good time to come out to him as well. But I didn’t. And a short time later when Gage came out, I still wasn’t ready. I knew I was being a coward, but I didn’t want to be forced to come out before I felt like the time was right. Then Johnny died.

Johnny was always emotionally fragile. He was four years younger than me and undeniably the baby of the family. It drove me fucking insane when we were kids and my mom babied the shit out of him. As he grew into his teen years he was a loner, one of those kids who spent all his time listening to depressing music and lamenting how pointless everything was. I think we all figured it was normal teenage angst. None of us knew he was being bullied at school. None of us knew he was self-medicating with any pills he could get his hands on. None of us knew he planned to take his own life.

I rub my chest against the tightness that always seems to manifest when I think about Johnny. If I’d told him I was bisexual would he have been more open with me about what a hard time he was having? Could it have saved his life to know he wasn’t alone?

And that’s the crux of why, eight years later, I still haven’t told Gage I’m bi. He loved Johnny. I didn’t know it until after Johnny was gone, but Gage was absolutely crazy in love with him. There’s no way Gage wouldn’t blame me, at least partially, for Johnny’s death if he knew I was bi and never told him or Johnny when it mattered the most.

Pushing away my dark thoughts I turn back to my dreaded spreadsheet and enter the last few figures I need and then total it before saving.

I stand up from my desk and stretch my arms over my head, letting out a groan as my muscles tug and my bones crackle into place. Closing in on thirty and I already feel like an old man.

I check my phone one more time for any messages from Phoenix, and when I don’t see one I pocket it and head up front to go out with Gage.

“So, what’s it going to take for me to see the ink you’re hiding under that tight shirt?”

I scowl when I hear the rude come-on from the front of the shop.

“A better pick-up line, some manners, and some shampoo. Better luck next time,” Dani, our main piercer and token bad-ass woman of the shop, easily rebuffs the douchebag.

I can’t blame the guy for trying. Dani is stunningly beautiful and fierce as hell. If I didn’t see her as a sister I’d be begging her to give me a chance. And I know for a fact that if most of the other guys who work at Heathens were straight they’d be fighting over our girl.

It didn’t occur to me before now, but out of six people working at Heathens- including myself- only one person is totally straight. Nash, Royal’s best friend and roommate is the one straight guy, and I’m not even convinced that he isn’t at least flexible or curious because I’m fairly sure there’s some underlying sexual tension between him and Royal. And Dani mostly dates guys, but she’s made a point of telling us that she doesn’t like labels and she doesn’t care about gender. So, maybe no straight people working at Heathens.

“Ready to go?” I ask Gage, peaking my head into his work space.

He sets down his sketchbook and stands up.

“Want to grab burritos from that food truck up the street?”

“Fuck yeah,” I agree, mouth watering at the thought.

“You’re buying,” Gage tells me with a wink.

I give him the finger and laugh good naturedly. I don’t know what I’d do without Gage. He’s a brother to me. I just hope that one day when I work up the balls to tell him I’ve been lying to him for fifteen years, he can find it in his heart to forgive me.

 

After a long ass day at Heathens all I really want to do is go home and crash out in front of the T.V. Maybe watch some Tattoo Nightmares and see if I can get Phoenix on messenger. Instead I’m shoving through the Friday night crowd at O’Malley’s trying to spot Kira.

I startle when a pair of slender arms wrap around my waist but when I look down and notice the fingernails are painted with an elaborate design and a little heart tattoo on the left wrist- done by yours truly- I know it’s Kira.

I turn my head and force a smile.

“I’ll grab our drinks if you can find somewhere to sit?”

“On it,” she agrees, giving my ass cheek a pinch before sauntering off with a swing of her hips.

A few minutes later I’m sliding into a booth and passing Kira a peach sangria.

“Thanks, love,” she purrs, putting her hand on my knee and scooting close.

I decided the best course of action would be to wait until Kira has a few drinks in her, and then I’ll tell her things are over between us, put her in an Uber, and pray she lets it go without having a major meltdown. That’s the thing about Kira, she’s a spoiled brat. The crazy really comes out when she doesn’t get her way. One time I tried to end things with her and she faked a pregnancy. I found out the whole thing was a scam to get me back when I overheard her friends laughing about it. And now I’m wondering how I let her lead me around by my dick this long to begin with.

“How’ve you been?” Kira asks, brushing her long, dark hair over her shoulder and leaning toward me so I get a good view of her ample cleavage.

That trick has always worked in the past to send my mind instantly to the gutter, remembering nights when I’ve lubed up and fucked her tits until I came all over her neck. My dick can’t seem to muster it’s normal enthusiasm for her, though. Which is further proof it’s time to end things for good.

“Not bad.” I bring my beer to my lips and glance around at the packed bar.

“I heard Madden was at that nightclub with the shooting, is he okay?”

I narrow my eyes at her. On the surface it seems like she’s genuinely concerned about the wellbeing of my friend who was shot, but that’s so not Kira. She’s the most self-centered person I’ve ever met, there’s no way she gives a shit how Madden’s doing.

“He’s recovering,” I answer as succinctly as possible.

“He should sell his story, I bet he could make millions.”

Annnnd there it is.

“I’ll mention that to him,” I mutter.

She launches into telling me all about her friends who I couldn’t possibly care less about, and my eyes return to roaming just for something to do.

My gaze falls on a man by the bar and my interest instantly piques. He’s built like the fucking hulk with muscles so massive I’m positive he could crush me in his fist. And that is hotter than fuck. My heart pounds as my eyes continue to drink in his broad shoulders, my mind conjuring images of the way his muscles would tense and flex under my hands as he fucks me. When I finally make it to his face I’m not disappointed. His strong, square jaw sets off his pouty lips and deep-set eyes.

I wonder what Phoenix looks like. Is he a big dude like The Hulk over there by the bar? Or is he small and slender? Perhaps somewhere in between? What’s he like in real life? Sure, online he’s wickedly funny and heartbreakingly sad, but in person does that translate? What does his voice sound like? What color are his eyes?

These thoughts chase themselves around in my mind until my hand is twitching toward my phone.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kira demands in a sharp voice.

“Uh, yeah,” I lie.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase, Adam,” Kira says, reaching for my hand and looking me in the eye. Here we fucking go. “I miss you and I think we’re good together. I feel like you should reconsider giving us a chance.”

“Kira, I’m sorry but I’ve told you more than once I’m not looking for something serious.”

Her eyes narrow and her lips purse as she prepares herself for full tantrum mode. After a second her face morphs into a sweet smile.

“I understand. Can I have one last kiss, for old time sake?”

I roll my eyes but relent. What could one kiss hurt?

I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. She tastes like a mixture of peach sangria and watermelon lipgloss. I relent as she flicks her tongue along the seam of my lips, letting her in for our tongues to mate.

“What the fuck is this?” An angry masculine voice demands to know.

I pull back and wipe the back of my hand across my lips to remove the remnants of lipgloss.

“Can I help you?” I ask cooly.

“Yeah, you can get your fucking hands off my woman.”

I quirk an eyebrow at Kira who seems pleased as punch over the development.

“I warned you, Nick, if you didn’t get your act together I was going to find someone else.”

“Fucking hell, I get it now. This was about making your boyfriend jealous?” The boyfriend is cracking his knuckles and looking at me menacingly. “Well, this was fun but it seems like you two have some shit to talk about, if you’ll excuse me. Oh, and Kira, do me a favor and lose my number.”

I stand and try to inch past Nick. But he’s apparently determined to start a fight because he steps directly in my path and glowers down at me.

“Dude, I don’t give a shit about your girl, you’re welcome to her. Now will you please get the fuck out of my way so I can leave?”

I hold my hands up and ease around him without a backward glance.

It only takes ten minutes to get home and as I’m sticking my key in the lock my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out and smile when I see the icon for a Confessions message.

 

 

Phoenix: Hey

Inked: Hey

Phoenix: how’s your night going?

Inked: pretty crazy actually

Phoenix: ooooo, do tell

Inked: I met up with this girl who’s been an on and off fuck buddy so I could break things off with her

Phoenix: Oh? Why’d you want to end things?

Inked: for starters she’s fucking crazy

Phoenix: I doubt she suddenly became crazy. so what’s the real reason you decided to end it now if you’ve been on and off before?

Inked: …I’ve never told anyone this

Phoenix: you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to

Inked: I’m bisexual. Obviously this isn’t anything new, but lately the itch to try it on with a guy has been getting stronger. Tonight, the thought of fucking her did nothing for me. But I got hard checking out a guy standing by the bar.  Sorry if that’s an overshare.

Phoenix: Not an overshare. I’m flattered you chose me to be the first person you’ve told.

Inked: I wish I could tell everyone, but I’ll probably lose my best friend when I finally do

Phoenix: if he’s really your best friend he’ll stand by you

Inked: I hope so

Inked: Can I ask you something?

Phoenix: sure

Inked: Can I see a pic of you?

Phoenix: …

Phoenix: sorry, no

Inked: :(

Phoenix: I don’t look good. Drugs will do a number on your good looks man, believe me when I tell you that

Inked: :( I’ll send you a pic of me if you’d like?

Phoenix: if you want to

 

 

I hold my phone up and snap a quick selfie to send to Phoenix.

 

 

Phoenix: damn, you’re ridiculously hot

Inked: thanks *blushes*

Phoenix: shit, I’ve gotta go my bf just got home

Inked: ok...take care of yourself

 

 

The feeling of a tight fist around my gut is becoming a familiar one when I get done chatting with Phoenix. I’m constantly worrying any time could be the last, eventually the messages just won’t come again.