One More Day (20 page)

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Authors: Auryn Hadley

BOOK: One More Day
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"Life isn't fair, sweetie," he said softly.  "If it was, I'd be able to do much more than that to you."

"More?"  She giggled.  "Any more than that, and you'd be fucking me."

"Yeah," he said.  "I would."

The giggles stopped, and she looked up at him.  His face was completely serious and so very beautiful as he watched her with those sapphire eyes.  He glanced away and shifted, pushing his arm under the pillows as he snuggled into the bed.

"Really?" she asked.  "What happened to - "

He pulled her close, interrupting her.  "Don't think about it too hard, Mack."

"Ryan, you make me feel really special," she whispered. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.  And I won't even argue about fair tonight.  That was amazing."

He laughed at that.  "Good.  You can argue about fair tomorrow."

"We'll see," she said softly, curling closer, feeling his naked body next to hers.  "Ryan?  I really don't know what I'm doing."

He shrugged, well aware that she could feel it in the dark.  "You mean with me, or because you haven't really done this a lot."

"The second."

He kissed her head and held her close.  "I kinda gotta take it slow with you, Mack.  No other option.  You just tell me when I try to go too fast."

"I don't want to mess up," she admitted softly.

"You can't," he said.  "God, Mack.  You're amazing.  If you hadn't said anything tonight, I never would have known, ok?"

She nodded, completely ashamed of the words she'd said, but she had to get it out there.  "But when we, you know?"

"Then we'll 'you know'.  Mack, you have nothing to worry about.  That fucking shower?"  He groaned.  "God.  You have nothing to worry about.  It's not a fucking competition."

She chuckled once, finding his choice of words funny enough to break the awkwardness.  "Fucking competition."

"Shit," he breathed, laughing at himself.  "You know what I meant."

"I just don't want to disappoint you," she said, pressing her head into his chest.  "You're perfect, Ryan.  I don't want to drive you away."

"Not happening, sweetie.  I'm not going anywhere."

 

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

Sunday, Colby arrived at the shop with a large package of fake skin.  Mack didn't even know such a thing existed.  He'd shown her how to prepare the equipment and use the sheets for practice, giving her orders to tattoo every chance she could so she'd be ready for Ryan's chameleon later that week.

It was harder than she expected.  The few lines she'd drawn on Tony, with Ryan's hand guiding her, was nothing like trying to do it all on her own.  She tattooed until her arms felt like mush, then designed more ideas to put in the "pick book" as Colby called it.  They were pretty slow, now that finals were over, serving no more than a handful of clients each hour.  That's why she looked up when the woman walked in.

She was tall and curvaceous, with a tattoo peeking above the line of her shirt.  Her dark hair was rough cut, and she had piercings ringing her entire ear.  She smiled at Mack as she leaned over the counter.

"Colby workin'?" she asked.

"He's doing a piercing," Mack said.

"Gotcha.  So you're Mack, I take it?  I'm Katie.  Not sure if you've ever heard of me."

She smiled.  "Yeah, Colby's mentioned you a time or two."

She nodded, sucking at the side of her mouth.  "Yeah, look.  I don't really need to talk to him or shit, but just thought I'd see if he's still alive.  He didn't come home last night."

Mack looked over her shoulder, then back to Katie.  "What the hell are you doing with him?" she asked. 

"Colby?"

"No, Santa.  Yeah, Colby."

"He's my roommate," Katie said.  "That's it."

"Yeah," Mack said.  "Kinda what he said, too.  Worst part is you're missing out on a damned good thing."

Katie chuckled.  "Nah, I get the best of both worlds," she said with a wink.  "You ever decide you want to come play, just let me know, honey."

"Thanks, but you're not my type."  Mack's smile wasn't as nice.  "I prefer my lovers to be a bit more committed."

Katie's mouth snapped shut, and she looked at Mack again.  "You fuckin' Colby?"

"No," Mack said.  "He's just too good of a friend to not say anything.  Look, none of my business, but you have a head's up."

Katie shrugged and put back on her flirtatious smile.  "Good to know.  If the dog decides to slip the leash, it'll come home eventually."

Mack was about to tell her how wrong she was, when she heard the door in the back opened.  Colby walked out with the client, chatting, but paused when he saw Katie.

"Hey," he said a little too casually.

"Just makin' sure you're still alive," she said.

Mack waved over the client and printed the invoice, doing her best to tune them out.  As soon as she was finished, she excused herself, then made her way to the back.  The tension between Colby and Katie was simply too much for her to ignore, and she owed him as much privacy as she could offer.  She brewed a pot of coffee and was just filling a cup, when Colby walked in with a sigh.

"Bad?" Mack asked.

"She didn't even ask where I was," he said softly.

Mack set her cup down and walked to his side, wrapping her arms around him.  "I'm sorry, bro.  You ok?"

"No," he whispered, pushing the break room door closed.

With a short quick breath, he hugged her back, and buried his head against her shoulder.  She could feel his staggered breaths, and knew that this big tough guy was trying very hard not to cry - and losing.

"I want a fucking drink, Mack," he mumbled.

"Bullshit," she said.  "My best friend wouldn't do that to me."

"No," he agreed, the tears staining his voice, "but I want one."

"We'll get through this," she swore.  "You and I, Colby.  We're gonna fucking get through this, ok?" 

He nodded, never taking his face from her shoulder.  She just held him, unwilling to let him suffer alone.  She didn't know how long they stood there, Colby clinging to her instead of the addiction, when the door gently opened.  Ryan looked in and caught Mack's eye.  She shook her head slightly and he nodded, slipping back out.  Before the door closed, though, Colby pulled away.

"I can hear you, bro," he said, his voice rough.  "We got work?"

"Already handled," Ryan assured him.  "Just making sure you two were ok."

Colby sighed, and wiped at his face, refusing to look at Ryan.  "You still cool with me moving in, man?"

"Yeah."

"Can I crash here tonight?"

"Your place, man," Ryan said.  "I'm not your fuckin' mom."

"Yeah.  Thanks man.  And I'm stealing your girl for a bit."

Ryan laughed at that.  "Sure, man.  I got the shop, but you're fuckin' done for the night if you light up."

Colby shook his head.  "Nah.  Just need a coffee and a minute.  I'm good, bro.  Just a fuckin' heart to heart is all."

"We gotta get a damned dining room table," Ryan said, patting Colby's shoulder gently before leaving, closing the door behind him.

"Cream?  Sugar?" Mack asked.

"Black.  Thanks, babe."  He sank into the chair and rubbed at his eyes.  "Mack, what the hell are you doing here?"

She finished filling the cup, walked over to set it down, and claimed a chair beside him before she answered.  "Working."

"Yeah.  Why?  Why here, Mack?"

"Ryan offered me the damned job."  She shrugged.

"Now you got the man, you're fuckin' living with him.  Why are you still working on fucking tattoos and not gallery pieces?"

She rubbed at her stubble.  "I don't want to.  I know that sounds crazy, but this," she gestured around her.  "This isn't what I expected at all.  Ryan called us the island of misfit toys.  I kinda like it."

"Yeah," he sighed.  "We fuckin' are.  We're all screwed up in one way or another.  Least you're gonna get over yours."

She shook her head.  "Just the cancer.  We all have a story, bro.  I'm not sure what Ryan's is, besides the deal with his mom, but yeah."

"Foster homes."  Colby sighed.  "Fuckin' three years in the foster system, and his fucking foster dad was an abusive fuck.  That's why he has no fear.  He's been through it.  Not much can hurt him anymore."

"And he still just wants to be the knight in shining armor," she said softly.  "You're the tough guy, and he's the knight."

"I'm not tough, Mack.  Not by a long shot."

She grabbed his hand.  "Yeah, you are.  Almost six years and not a drink.  That's pretty fucking tough."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand gently.  "My mom's a junkie.  I watched it rip her up.  You slip once and it's that much harder to start over.  But not you.  Six damned years, bro.  I'll get high with you anytime you want.  Just don't take a drink, ok?"

"Thanks, kid.  And since I'm about to be fucking single, you gotta give me some fashion advice."

She laughed.  "I can do that.  You drive, and we'll have a girl's night out."

He paused, then looked at her again.  "Mack?  What's taffeta?"

"Like prom dress.  Satin, but a bit more stiff."

"You know those little music boxes?  The ones with the little dancer in them?"  When she nodded, he went on.  "Can you draw me a little dancer like that?  Maybe two inches tall?"

"In purple taffeta?"

"Yeah."  He reached out and rubbed her head.  "I fuckin' need a tattoo."  He pointed to the inside of his wrist.  "Some place I can see it, like a reminder."

She held up a finger and grabbed a piece of paper.  "You trust me?" she asked.

"Yeah, babe."

Sliding her chair closer, she tilted the page so he could see, and started scrawling lines.  "Not a music box ballerina," she said.  "A ribbon dancer."

Her hands worked quickly, the image growing before his eyes.  The girl was nude, wrapped in a long ribbon of purple taffeta, binding her arms and trailing down one leg where the broken ends pooled at her feet.  Freed from the bonds, she danced, her face tilted up in joy, the streamers from her hands spinning with her.

"Give her long dark hair," he said.  "Do that, and it's perfect."

She sketched it on, giving only the most basic lines, and Colby grabbed it, tilting his head to the door.  "C'mon."

"Hey," Mack said, stopping him.  When he looked back at her, she wiped at his cheek.  "K.  You're public."

With determination, he marched into the main room of the shop and found Ryan cleaning the equipment.  He slapped the drawing on the table and tossed himself in the chair, turning his arm up.

"Ribbon is purple, hair is dark brown."

Ryan glanced over at Mack and smiled.  "Yeah.  How clean you want it?"

"You're doing this one, man," Colby said.  "Mack can do others.  Need you to do this one."

"Gotcha."

With another wipe at the gun, he started setting it up, telling Mack what he'd need.  She pulled the inks from the cabinet and filled the dipping trays, standing at his shoulder to watch.  Ryan didn't even bother drawing the lines onto Colby's skin.  He simply looked at her design and started working.  It didn't seem to take very long before the dancer started to come to life.

"She's nice," Colby said.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed.  "Mack got the ribbons perfectly."

"And you didn't make her fucking anorexic."  Colby glanced up at Mack.  "Sorry babe, but you like your women a bit too skinny."

"So I've been told."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.  "Yeah, that's sharp over the tendon."

"Then relax your fuckin' hand," Ryan said.  "You wiggle, she's gonna spin off into the damned jungle up there."

"Shit.  I don't wiggle.  Might cry like a damned baby, but I don't wiggle."

"Never saw it," Ryan said.  "Might have seen you groping my girl, but that's about it."

"She has a nice ass!"

"Yeah she does," Ryan agreed, glancing up at Mack.  "But keep your damned single hands off it."

"Yeah man.  We're also gonna have to get a new supplier."

"What?" she asked.  They'd completely lost her now.

"Your pain killers," Colby said, looking up at her.  "Was getting it from Katie's brother."

"Kinda low on my list of priorities," she told him.

"Not mine," Ryan told her.  "Your damned tight jeans aren't so tight, Mack."

"That's not a bad thing!"

"He likes your curves," Colby said.  "I like it when you can walk across the damned shop without a break.  I'll find a new one.  I know some people."

"I'll ask at the clinic tomorrow," Ryan said.  "Those damned nurses love me."

Mack laughed.  "Yeah they do.  Not sure they're gonna tell you where you can buy pot though."

"You'd be surprised," Ryan said with a smile.  "Not every one is as straight-laced as you, Mack."

"So I'm seeing.  What else are you guys going to do to corrupt me?"

"Let's see," Colby teased.  "Sex, check.  Drugs, check.  Tattoos, check.  We need a piercing."

The corner of Ryan's lip twitched, and he suddenly became very interested in the tattoo he was working on.  Colby saw, though, and glanced up at Mack, then chuckled.

"Takes almost four weeks for that to heal, bro."

"I didn't say shit," Ryan muttered.

"You didn't have to.  I know what you're thinkin'."

"I don't!" Mack reminded them.

"No," Ryan said, trying to stop Colby.

He laughed.  "Need to pierce your tongue, Mack.  Shit's fucking amazing."

She gasped, then started laughing when she realized Ryan was blushing.  "Are you serious?"

"She can't anyway," Ryan said.  "No metal, no infections."

"No, wait," Mack interrupted.  "Go back.  Piercing my tongue is amazing?"

"Dark purple, or light?" Ryan asked, trying hard to change the subject.

"Medium.  Like crayon," Colby said, then looked up at Mack.  "Yeah, babe.  Solid warm metal up the bottom side of your dick?  Press a bit, and wow.  Amazing.  There's a little spot just under the head, rub that shit over it, and a man will do anything you ask."

"Ryan?"

"I didn't say shit."

"Can I get my tongue pierced?"

He lifted the tattoo gun away from Colby's skin and carefully laid it down.  "Um."

"I'll do it," Colby told her.  "You get those nurses to say it's ok, and I'll pierce ya."

"You want me to finish this?" Ryan asked, rubbing at his very pink face.

"Yeah, bro.  You finish her, Mack can finish you, and I'll fuckin' jack off in her bed."

"That's not right," she said, laughing.  "God, Colby.  That's fucking not right."

"Finish the damned tattoo," he told Ryan.  "Seam along the bottom, Mack.  Just lick that shit like a damned lollipop."

"Piercing your tongue would make it swell," Ryan said.  "Hard to talk for a couple of days, a few letters are hard for about a week after."

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