I finished another tattoo.

My door had been open for hours, and there was no end in sight.

I wiped the excess ink off some guy’s shoulder and stared at the tiger looking back at me. I had spent maybe too much time on the eyes, but damn, they were really lifelike. It was a little difficult to get the overall image to flow the way I wanted with the curve of his shoulder, but it worked. It always worked. Tattooing was the one thing that never let me down.

I patched him up and pointed to the door.

He shook my hand and swore to me he’d be back for more ink soon. I warned him I was heading to Miami soon, but that he should still come back to St. Skin.

I felt like a doctor or something, the way I had been shuffling people in and out.

I sat on my chair for a few seconds to catch my breath. I cracked my knuckles, stretched my wrists, and stood up. The chair rolled back until it hit the wall.

The shop was bustling once again. I swore I’d never seen a tattoo shop as busy as St. Skin. People would call and make appointments weeks and months in advance, yet there would be dozens (if not more) people just walking in all day long. Looking around. Getting advice. Hoping to sneak in on a session and pay whatever we wanted them to pay.

There had to have been at least ten people up front.

I stood there and looked around, slowly shaking my head.

I looked over at Danielle as she ran the counter. I gave a quick thumbs-up, and she pointed to a woman standing near the front window. The woman clutched her bag tight and looked nervous as hell.

I took a step when I felt hand come down on my shoulder.

“We need to talk,” Tate’s deep boss-voice said to me.

“In case you didn’t notice, Tate, there’s people waiting.”

“Yeah. They can wait a little longer. Come with me.”

I followed Tate back to my room where he opened the door and held it open as though it was his fancy-ass office.

I entered the room and he shut the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Last time I checked, I was tattooing people.”

“How many did you do today?”

“Why?”

“Yesterday?”

I didn’t respond.

“You’re going to end up fucking something up, Zayne.”

“No I’m not. I’ve got to save up some cash, Tate.”

“Oh, Miami again?”

“This is my business.”

“No, actually it’s my business,” Tate said.

I curled my lip and looked away. I fucking hated anything that represented authority or telling me what to do.

“So? I get paid to bring business in,” I said. “I make customers happy and you’re pissed at me.” I grabbed my leather jacket. “I’ll just fucking take off then, Tate. You deal with the overflow out there.”

“Whoa, easy now,” Tate said. “Don’t be so fucking touchy.”

“Fuck you, man,” I snapped. “The other guys are booked with appointments. I’m taking the leftovers out there. I’m not doing full back pieces in two fucking hours Tate. I’m doing my goddamn job. You want to see what I just got done out there?”

“The tiger,” Tate said. “I saw it.”

“You saw?”

“I asked to see it,” he said. “It looked-”

“What are you doing, checking my work? Like my fucking father? A teacher?”

Tate put a finger to my chest. “Hey. Take a breath, man. I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you that the tiger looked fucking amazing. You were able to pull that off after running how many hours here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone pull that off before.”

“Right,” I said. “And this is where you offer to kiss my ass to keep me here.”

“No,” Tate said. “You need to leave here. You need to rest your mind. And your body.”

“Tate…”

“You were here until two in the morning,” he said. “And then back at eight. I appreciate all that you’ve done here. The money is great. Business is good. But you look ready to fucking throw up and pass out. Look at yourself in the mirror, man.”

Yeah, I got it. I looked like shit. I couldn’t stand being in my apartment. I couldn’t stand being alone. I couldn’t stand anything other than the distraction of the needle buzzing and my mind focused on bringing an image to life on someone’s skin.

I succumbed and slowly sat down on my chair.

Tate leaned against the wall.

We were in silence for a little bit.

“So, what is it?” he asked. “This because of the wedding?”

“Among other things,” I said.

“Well, I can set you up,” Tate said.

“Meaning?”

“You pick. I can have someone show up at that wedding that will jaw drop everyone there. If you wanted to show up and raise a little hell. Or I can have you set up somewhere else. A hotel for the weekend. Anything you want.”

I smiled. “What a choice, huh?”

“I’m serious,” Tate said. “You can’t get to a point where you fuck up. And that will happen if you do too much.”

“It’s the only thing that makes me feel settled right now. I’m not taking any big pieces, Tate. Just what’s out there.”

“Cass mentioned you had something drawn you want tattooed on you,” Tate said.

“No.”

“Let me do it for you,” Tate said.

“What?”

“Give me the drawing and let me get it ready. My gift to you, Z. For all you’re doing around here.”

“I don’t get shit I’ve drawn tattooed on me.”

“This time you do,” Tate said.

I stood up.

I walked to the door, and Tate didn’t stop me. “I’m not going to stop here, Tate. This is all I’ve got right now. My mind will clear itself out soon. It always does.”

“I know, Z. I know. I just want you to know we all care. You’re family here now. And anything you need is waiting.”

I looked at Tate. I appreciated the words.

I walked to the front of the shop again and to the woman who still stood there clutching her bag, biting her lip.

“Excuse me,” I said.

She spun around, wide-eyed with bright blue eyes.

“I’m Zayne. You can call me Z. What are you thinking for today?”

“I just want to forget about everything for a little while.”

I nodded.

Me too…me fucking too…

* * *

It was the middle of the night.

The clock in the kitchen glowed four in the morning. Too late in the night to be partying and too early to be considered morning. My head throbbed like I had walked into a wall. But I knew it wasn’t a wall that did it. It was the goddamn whiskey. The fog of smoke that wrapped its arms around me almost as tight as…Sarah.

“Shit,” I whispered.

I shut my eyes and leaned over the sink.

Sarah.

I spent four hours tattooing birds across her back. Touching her skin, her slender shoulders, taking in the smell of her hair, everything about her totally opposite of what I really craved. My mind told me that’s exactly what I needed. The complete opposite to get a taste of something different.

I glanced at the bottle of whiskey on the table. I went to the culprit of the night and saw there was still at least one shot left in it. I twisted the cap off and officially killed the bottle.

That was the second bottle.

The first one had ended up broken on the side of the building because Sarah said she wanted to throw it against the brick building and hear it shatter.

Pieces of the night slowly come back to me. The biggest piece of the night was that Sarah was asleep in the spare bed. Where I had been sleeping about fifteen minutes ago. Waking up and looking to my left and seeing her in the bed, it all sank hard against me. What I had done. The things I had done to her. The entire time thinking about someone else. And hell, she had been doing the same thing. We both knew exactly what this was.

One night. Never again.

I wasn’t going to get any more sleep, so I made some coffee.

I leaned against the counter, staring at the floor. The good news was that the floor wasn’t moving. But my head was still aching and probably would for the rest of the day.

The coffee smelled better than the whiskey did, which was my cue that I really had gotten my fill the night before. I wondered how much of the night I spent talking about other people. Not that I gave a damn about it. There was nothing wrong with chasing away the demons for a night. I wasn’t going to be fake about it either. No lying. Christ, no lying. I learned that lesson with Bella the hard way.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I rubbed my jaw.

I needed to shave. I needed to avoid St. Skin, too. I had been working at an insane pace. Tate was right. I was going to end up burning out and fucking something up. I just didn’t know what else to do.

Even a one-night thing wasn’t taking away the sting of Bella.

“Psst…coffee?”

I looked up and saw Sarah shuffling toward the table. She was fully dressed, something she was not when I exited the bed.

“Hey,” I said. “Yeah. I couldn’t…”

She nodded. “Mind if I have a cup before I go?”

“It’s four in the morning,” I said. “Catch some z’s.”

“Coffee and go,” she said pointedly.

“Right,” I said.

I poured two mugs and gritted my teeth. I should have been handing the mug to someone else.

The strange part was that I gave Sarah the coffee and there was nothing between us. No flirty glances. No flirty touches. No urge to kiss her. Nothing. Whatever had happened was just an attempt to just forget. Which was the first thing she said to me when I met her.

“So,” she said, “she means that much, huh?”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Whoever you’re hiding from,” Sarah said.

“What about you?” I asked.

I leaned against the counter again. It was still dark out. The entire apartment was dark, except for a small light above the kitchen sink that spread dimly halfway through the kitchen.

“It is what it is,” she said. “I’m glad we were able to waste away last night, Zayne.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“It’s not my business, but if she’s worth whatever you’re thinking, I hope you don’t quit.”

“I’ll keep that advice in mind,” I said. I raised my mug for a second. “I’m going to take this coffee to go. In my room.”

“Of course,” Sarah said. “Your real bedroom, right? She raised her eyebrows.

I froze for a second.

I was busted.

That was the one coherent thing that went through my mind over and over. I didn’t want Sarah in my actual bed. Which seemed stupid because the night Bella and I started up I took her to the spare bedroom. So maybe it was a crazy way of ridding her from the apartment.

I had nothing else.

“If you ever need any more ink, stop by the shop,” I said.

“I will,” she said. “I’ll make sure to ask for someone else, though.”

“Was I that bad?”

Sarah grinned and winked.

I walked to my room and crashed to my bed, holding a coffee cup. I was wide awake. I put the coffee down and looked at my dresser. Right over where the engagement ring was. Where the wedding invitation was.

Shit, maybe I should have pitched my idea to Sarah.

I laughed because I wanted to scream.

Fuck the wedding. Fuck Steph and her soon-to-be husband. Fuck everything.

All I wanted was just one more chance to talk to Bella.

I couldn’t stomach the idea of her running back to that asshole who slept with her best friend.

I sat there and waited until I heard the click of the front door.

I’d never see Sarah again, and that was fine with me.

But never seeing Bella again?

That would burn a hole in my heart forever.