Chapter Eight
Evie
Present Day
“Tell me again why we’re here.”
“We’re here because you insisted on tagging along. I’m here because I want more ink.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, reminding myself I needed to book an appointment to get it cut. I wouldn’t go back to my long, straight, boring hair; I’d gotten rid of it the day after I’d gotten rid of my virginity.
“And why do you want another tattoo?” The whining tone in the interloper’s voice was starting to make me angry.
“I’ve wanted a new one for a while.” Make that ever since I got my first one. I’d been craving the feel of the needle on my skin for almost two years now. “Fucking Hannah graduated and is no longer a pain in my ass, so I’m getting another one.” Plus I didn’t have to go home over the summer. I wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Since I was in charge of rush for the fall, I told my parents I needed to be at the sorority house over the break to prepare.
They bought it; they had no reason not to. In my parents’ eyes I was thriving, beautiful, popular, and did a shit ton of charity work. All of that was true, technically speaking. But reality was a little harsher. I mean, wasn’t it always?
I waved my hand in the direction of the busy street. “You can go. I don’t need an audience.” I gave Chasity an annoyed side-eye. She wasn’t my favorite fake friend. She hung on my every word and it was irritating AF.
“I’ll stick around for a bit.” She sent me a smile that looked a lot like a sneer. “Make sure you don’t get molested by one of these gross tattoo people.”
“Tattoo people? You mean artist?” Dumb fuck. Most of my sorority turned down their noses at anyone different than them. The only reason I got away with my tattoo, leather leggings, and vintage Alexander McQueen bags was because I was their token rock-star offspring. It was a part I played, a part I’d perfected over the last two years.
I’d marched into that first mixer, my head held high and concealer covering a small hickey on my shoulder. I laughed, I joked, I smiled like it was my fucking job. I wore clothes I’d never dreamed of wearing back home. I wore heels as high as the sky. I reinvented Evie James in one night, and I had every blonde in that building trailing after me like I was the second coming. And best of all, I’d made Hannah basically grovel at my feet before I agreed to join Kappa Delta. I’d also made her deny my bitchy suitemate, Samantha, a spot. I didn’t let anyone put me down, not anymore.
I was Evie fucking James, rock royalty.
I opened the door to Revival Ink, the same bell announcing my arrival and déjà vu taking over my senses. I hadn’t been back here since the fall of my freshman year. And I hadn’t laid eyes on Nicky since then either. I’d debated finding another shop to get my work done, but Revival Ink was the best. What were the chances that he would still be here? He’d told me he’d come down to Dallas to open this location; for all I knew he was back in Austin tattooing my wayward cousins. Two years was a really long time. Hell, he might not even remember me if he did see me.
That would sting a bit, because I still remembered every tattoo on his body. Every freckle, and all his different smiles. The sound of his sexy chuckle still gave me shivers. I could recall, vividly, every moment we’d spent together. And wasn’t that sad as hell? I gave myself a mental scolding. Pull it together, Evie. That night no doubt meant more to you than it ever did to him.
I was here for ink, nothing else. I already knew what I wanted for my next piece, and I’d had it drawn up by Maykin, an art major in my sorority. I stumbled a little on my way to the counter. I’d taken Adderall with my breakfast, and a Vicodin about twenty minutes ago to dim the aftereffects of the needle. Those two weren’t my most favorite combination, the upper and the downer. But I’d be fine. I’d taken worse.
My hand shook as I reached into my bag to get out the drawing. I should have eaten before I took that pain pill. Wait. Had I eaten today? I searched my somewhat cloudy mind, looking for the answer to my own question.
I mentally ticked things off in order: I got up, I took the Adderall, I moved into my new room at the house. I’d gone to the Beta pool party for a bit, gotten bored, and…hmm. What had I done after that? Oh. Right. Cocktails for lunch with my favorite fake friend Maykin, which was when she gave me the completed drawing. Then I’d decided on a whim to get inked today, and instead of trying to make an appointment, I’d run into Chasity at Starbucks, taken the Vicodin and now I was here. Waaaaa-la.
In closing, I hadn’t eaten. But I would, as soon as I was done here. I made a mental note to remember food. I was busy all the time. Food slipped my mind more often than not these days.
“How can I help…crap.” The tattooed blue-eyed guy from the first time I’d been here threw his hands in the air. “I’m out, I already did four anchors today.” I snorted under my breath. I guess some things never change. “Yo, Nicky, get your sexy ass out here, I’m going on break.”
I. Froze. At. The. Sound. Of. His. Name.
Holy shit. My hands were no longer the only thing shaking. I felt like my heart was going to vibrate right out of my chest, and my stomach was in knots. Why had I come back here? Why had I ever thought he’d be long gone? Did I do this on purpose? No. There was no way I consciously walked in knowing I’d see Nicky.
I needed to leave. I needed to leave and never ever—
“Bleu, man, I should really fire you one of these days.” Nicky came from the back, the sound of his voice stopping my mini internal panic attack in its tracks. He was drying his hands on a paper towel. I could tell the instant he recognized me. His lips parted and his pretty green eyes narrowed. “Evie?”
“Hey.” I didn’t know if I should wave, or high five him. So I stayed still, my hands at my sides.
“You know him?”
I completely ignored Chasity, who was standing behind me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my sudden onslaught of drug-induced nerves. They had to be drug induced. Nicky meant nothing to me. Seeing him again after all this time? Meant. Nothing. Other than the fact that I was somewhat delusional in coming here.
“I, uh, I want another tattoo. You were right.” I threw my hands up, a smile I didn’t really feel on my face. “They’re addicting.” I let out a somewhat bored laugh, straightening my spine. I lifted my chin and clutched my hands together, hoping he wouldn’t notice and think the shaking was because of him.
Not a chance, Nicky. It’s all the pills and booze I’d consumed today.
I watched as he took in my face, my hair. His eyes traveled down my body, stopping at the tattoo he’d done for me years ago. When I first picked the spot, I thought I’d keep it covered most of the time. And I had, in the beginning. But the longer I had it, and the more I changed, the more I tended to show it off as often as possible. Like today, I was wearing incredibly short cut-offs and a black silky shirt, which only brought out the dark ink more.
He cleared his throat, the familiar sound making me bite my lip. “Come on back.” He spun on his heel and walked down the hall, not sparing me another glance.
“You can either wait, or not.” I shrugged at Chasity, feigning indifference and making sure my tone bordered on rude. I wanted her to leave. I needed her to leave. But if I told her to go, nosiness would force her to stay.
When I took a step to follow after the only guy who’d ever made me shiver in pleasure, she grabbed my arm. “How exactly do you know him?” Her face held a hint of disgust and I suddenly wanted to slap that look away. Nicky was literally one of the most gorgeous creatures on this planet. And the fact that Chasity was turning her nose up because he had tattoos and not a trust fund was making me see red.
“I get my work done from the best, and Revival Ink is the best.” I jerked my arm away. I refused to tell her how well I knew Nicky. It wasn’t her business. I scoffed as I walked away, doing my best to make my “friend” feel stupid and insignificant. It wasn’t abuse. She’d do the same to me if our roles were reversed.
“You got a drawing or something?” Nick was leaning against the long black counter when I stepped into the room, his perfect arms folded over his chest. He looked the same, but hotter, if that was even possible. Maybe it was because I’d seen him naked. Maybe it was because the memories of our one night together were so fresh and clear in my mind.
I sat my purse in the armchair against the opposite wall, handing him the piece of paper I’d brought with me. “I want it down my side, starting here.” I pointed to my ribs, right next to my breast. “And ending here.” I trailed my finger down to my hipbone.
His eyes followed, and then snapped back up to my face. I hadn’t meant to flirt with him, I really hadn’t. It was kind of habit these days though.
“Let me get it transferred over.” He took a different blanket out of the same cabinet. “I’ll need your shirt off and your shorts pulled down a bit.” He gave me his back, working on transferring my tattoo and giving me a chance to get changed.
I wasn’t the same girl I was when I first met him. I wasn’t shy. I wasn’t inexperienced and nervous. And I didn’t need him to turn away while I changed. But I felt like saying all those thoughts out loud would make me sound like an asshole, so I kept my mouth shut and took off all my clothes. I left my underwear on, but that was it. I wrapped the warm waffle-knit blanket around my body and stood behind him.
I watched as he worked, bent over his desk, eyes focused. That stare of concentration on his face made me smile; it made me remember him sketching me in his bed. I told him I would regret nothing about our night together, but that had turned out to be a lie. I regretted not taking that drawing with me. I regretted not having anything tangible about our night together to remember him by. Yeah, I had the tattoo, but that wasn’t “ours.” It was mine.
He turned around, gesturing for me to stand in front of the mirror. I took my place, moving the blanket to expose my side without him having to ask. He stared at my reflection in the mirror, his eyes once again traveling the length of my body. His pupils dilated, and I knew that he now knew I was basically naked. It didn’t do it for him though. I did it for me; my clothes felt like sandpaper against my skin, and I’d wanted them gone.
“You want to tell me about this one?” He placed the transfer paper on my side, his gaze narrowing slightly as he smoothed it down. “But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never claim the rose.” His gaze met mine. “One of the Brontë sisters, right?” I’d had Maykin draw a long vine of thorny roses, the words to the quote wrapping around them.
“Yeah, Ann.” I let out a little laugh, surprised that he recognized the quote. Ann Brontë was less celebrated than her sisters, and she’d died young. “How did you know that?”
“I minored in classic English literature at Texas State ’fore I dropped out to start tattooing with my uncle.”
I didn’t know that about him, but then again, we’d only spent one night together. We didn’t talk, not really. And I’d been gone before the sun had come all the way up.
Nicky patted the table. “Lay on your side, cover up however you want, but don’t smudge the transfer.” He sat down in his stool, getting the gun and ink ready. I couldn’t get a read on him. I mean, I knew he remembered me, and he was as caring as he had been two years ago. But he also seemed distant. Guarded, maybe? Was he still angry at me for asking him to take my virginity? Did he regret it?
I treasured the memory of our night together and I held it in my heart. I was a bitch on the outside, ruthless and sometimes cruel. But inside I was still me…at least I thought I was. Sometimes it was hard to tell, hard to separate the rocker chick from the quiet girl who read for fun. Nicky was the last bright, pure spot in my life before everything changed.
When I had sex again, for the first time after Nicky, I got down on my knees and thanked whoever was listening. I thanked them for letting Nicky be my first, I thanked them for that small miracle. Nicky was a kind man, and I’d learned that wasn’t a common trait. It had taken me a while to learn how to be the user, not the one being used.
I held the purple blanket to my chest, letting the rest of it kind of dangle. I lay down like he instructed, draping the end of the material over my thigh. “This good?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He put on his black gloves, touching my skin and sending instant chills down my spine. Time had done nothing to lessen the effect he had on my body. Nothing. And I had been kidding myself if I had ever thought otherwise.
I clenched my fists under the blanket, trying like hell to stop the tremor that was starting to take over my body. I knew that I should get up and leave. I knew that I wasn’t in any shape to do this today. But the thought of leaving here without the sting of the needle on my skin was something I couldn’t bear. I couldn’t explain it, not at all.
I only knew that in that moment, I needed Nicky and I craved his needle.