That Girl is Mine - Part One (2 page)

“Everyone get there all right?” I ask over my shoulder as Roxy arrives back at the shop. Without saying anything, she drops her bag into the back room then walks straight back out to me and stops beside me, leaning over to inspect the tattoo I’m working on. It’s a tribal design around this guy’s forearm. I’ve done so many of them that I could do it in my sleep, but the client is being a bit of a pussy and wriggling around like three-year-old with a case of worms. It’s fucking ridiculous.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. Girl seems a bit straight though. I reckon her eyes just about bugged out when she saw me up close.”

I answer her distractedly, as I shade in the geometric pattern that’s banding his arm. “Josh has always liked them good and pure. Normally, he corrupts then and casts them aside. Not sure why he's keeping this one..”

“Can
I
corrupt her?” Roxy asks wickedly.

I chuckle to myself, but keep my concentration firmly on the artwork I’m embedding into my client’s skin. “If you have to.”

“Oh I do. Corrupting young innocent girls is one of my most favorite things to do. And last I checked, it was one of yours too.”

“I can’t really corrupt my best friend’s girl now can I? From the way he talks about her, they’ll likely be married before he’s twenty-five.”

“Nothing wrong with getting married young. George and I were married at twenty-two, and eight years later, we’re still going strong.”

“Yes. Well, you guys are the exception, not the rule.”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, before moving over to her station and pulling out her sketch pad. For a moment, she just sits on the couch up against the wall, scratching away with her pencil then she speaks up again. “You don’t need to corrupt her sexually.”

“What? Who?” I ask frowning before I remember what she’s talking about. “Oh, Avery?”

“Yeah. I’m talking about introducing her to the fun in the world. She looks like she could do with it. I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a bet – first one to convince her to get a tattoo wins.”

“All right, I can get on board with that. What does the winner get?”

I stop as my client takes a moment to reposition himself and I watch Roxy as she twists her lips to the side and thinks. “Winner gets a thousand bucks, and the chance to put whatever tattoo they want on the other’s body.”

I think for a moment, knowing that she’s been dying to tattoo a coiling snake around my calf for ages. It’s cool idea, and she’s a great artist. But, it will take forever, and I haven’t had the patience to sit for it yet.

“Deal,” I say, holding my hand out for her to shake.

Setting her sketchpad aside, she crosses the small shop floor and slips a hand into mine, grinning broadly with her perfect white teeth shining from between her plump lips (why haven’t I banged this girl yet? Oh yeah – she’s married and we work together. I can’t fuck that up).

“Deal.” She nods, her smile still in place as she spins around and skips across the room to go and talk to our apprentice, who has been quietly listening as he traces common designs on the lightbox behind reception.

“You two are evil,” my client says with a laugh, as I dip the needle into the pot of ink.

I shake my head and smile. “Nah, man. We’re just making the world a better place, one tattoo at a time.”

“Maybe we should go shopping for food?” I murmur, lying against Josh’s chest, completely naked, my body humming with satisfaction.

Josh’s arms tighten around me. “Sleep. Then food.” His voice is sleepy, and his breathing is deep. I don’t have the heart to force him up when he obviously needs to rest.

“OK,” I whisper, snuggling into his chest. Lazily, I drift my hand up and down his stomach soothingly, waiting until I hear his breathing change and even out. Then I slip from beneath his arm, knowing from experience that he won’t stir because Josh sleeps like the dead (One time, I was staying in his room on campus, when the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night. I jumped out of bed and started panicking, and the only way I could get him to wake up was to call him on his cell. It’s like he has an off switch or something).

Taking a few things from my bag, I head into the bathroom and have a quick shower, before I dress in a pair of cut-offs and pale blue tee, tying my long red hair up into a high ponytail. Then I Google the nearest supermarket as my stomach grumbles loudly (I have a ridiculously fast metabolism and eat like a pig at a trough. It’s not very ladylike and my mother always scolded me for it, but I can’t help it – I get hungry). Thankfully, there’s a convenience store within walking distance, so I shove my feet in my chucks, grab my purse and head out into the sun, letting my stomach make all the decisions.

***

“No, no, no, no,” I moan, leaning against the locked front door. I totally forgot to grab the key Roxy gave to Josh, and now I’m locked out while he slumbers upstairs. The groceries are going to be ruined if he doesn’t wake up soon.

“Josh!” I yell, hoping he’s awake and will hear me. No luck.

Turning around, I sit on the concrete stoop and place my grocery bags beside me, before I squint up at the afternoon sun. The ice cream is going to melt. The milk is going to go off, and the meat will cook itself, before I get it all inside.

I open my purse, looking for my cell so I can at least try calling him, but when it goes through, I hear his clearly from the front room. It rings out. There’s no way he’d hear that.

“Josh!” I yell one last time, but there’s nothing. All I can do is lean up against the door and wait. Eventually, he’ll wake and when he calls out, I’ll answer and he can let me in…sigh.

My back and neck are killing me, and I’m looking forward to going home, taking a hot shower and eating before I get ready to hit a couple of clubs with some friends. I guess I’ll say a quick hello to Dylan and his girl. I guess they can come clubbing too if they want – although, I’m kind of counting on them being too tired from their travels to want to party tonight. That way, I don’t have to feel responsible for them, and I can go home with whomever I choose (at the moment, I’m quite enjoying the company of a DJ friend of Roxy’s. She’s not interested in anything that involves sleeping, and that suits me just fine because I don’t have to do the awkward dress-and-leave-before-she-tries-to-cuddle maneuver).

Elektra by Refused comes up in my playlist, and I turn up the sound as I round the corner in my black Camaro – my pride and joy. My house comes into view, and I let out a slight sigh. As much as I’m glad Josh is back in town, I’m not too keen on living with a couple. Relationships get messy. I grew up with a mother who had a string of useless boyfriends, and the last thing I need, is to endure that bullshit of a couple fighting again.

As I get closer, my brow furrows a little. There’s a girl sitting on the front stoop eating ice cream with her finger. She’s fucking stunning (if you’re into the idea of a younger version of the flame priestess from Game of Thrones). She has dark red hair that’s throwing off cooper highlights when the last rays of the day’s sun hit, smooth pale skin, and light colored eyes. Even from my vantage point in the car I can see how light they are – I’m guessing they’re blue. She’s dressed in a pair of denim cut-offs, a t-shirt and a pair of chucks with her hair tied back in a simple style. I guess Josh wasn’t lying when he said she was a no frills kind of girl. Not that she really needs all that extra stuff – I can see why she caught Josh’s eye…

When she sees me pull into my parking space, she sucks her finger into her mouth as she watches me then slowly places the lid back on the carton, and drops it in the bag by her side. Something about the way she watches me so openly the whole time causes my throat to thicken a little, so I look away. I wasn’t expecting that and need to shake my head a little to clear my thoughts (I thought she was an innocent?).

I run my hand through my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling it upward, composing myself before I get out of the car.

“Avery?” I ask, as I approach her, my boots scuffing lightly along the concrete pathway as the chain attaching my wallet to my pants swings and taps my thigh.

She remains sitting and squints up at me with a curious expression on her face.
Fuck, She's hot, and her skin is completely virgin – no blemishes, no marks or sun spots. It's the perfect canvas, and under any other circumstances I’d want to corrupt her in every way possible...

“Yeah, I’m Avery. Are you Dylan?” I nod, and she smiles then points over her shoulder at the closed door. “I kind of locked myself out.”

I look down at her, her long legs tilted so her toes are turned inward and her knees are touching. She’s kind of adorable.
Why do I have an urge to pull on that ponytail?

Reaching out, I pick up one of the paper bags full with groceries; it’s the one with the half eaten ice cream inside it.

“Didn’t Roxy give you the key?” I ask evenly.

She stands and lifts the other bag, holding it around the bottom awkwardly. “She did. I just forgot it. It was stupid…”

“It’s fine.” Using my key, I unlock the door and hold it open to let her through, watching the way she moves as she carries the bag to the kitchen. As awkward as she seemed outside, there’s a certain grace to her movement, and a really nice curve to her shape. She’s slim but she has muscle tone. I figure she ran track for Duke or something, because she has powerful looking legs.

The kind you’d want wrapped around your…
I drop my eyes, forcing myself to cancel out that thought before it goes too far.

“I don’t know if any of this can be salvaged,” she muses, placing the grocery bag on the counter before removing its contents. She’s completely oblivious to the thoughts that are hovering in the back of my mind as she removes the cap from a gallon of milk and sniffs (I really need to stop looking at every woman I meet with my dick before my brain). “It smells OK.” She looks up at me and smiles – honest, open. “Looks like you saved the day.”

“I’m no hero,” I admit, placing the bag I’m carrying onto the counter. Then I pull out the tub of ice cream. “Looks like you had one casualty.”

She smiles and takes the Chunky Monkey from me. “This was never going to last long,” she says with a wink, dropping it into the trashcan beside the refrigerator.

I watch her for a moment, as she turns back to me with a smile on her face. She doesn’t have a single bit of concern or trepidation or even curiosity on her face when confronted with a man who’s covered in tattoos all over his arms, as well as on my scalp. Staring at her openly, I wonder if maybe Roxy’s original assessment was wrong. Maybe she isn’t naïve and innocent. Maybe she’s just a nice person. Maybe she’s just so honest that it shows on her face…

She tilts her head to the side in question, and I realize how long I’ve been staring then look away. “I’m heading up for a shower. Make yourself at home. Just don’t use the hot water till I’m done if you can help it.”

“Sure,” she smiles, leaning against the counter. “It was nice to meet you, Dylan.”

I like the way my name sounds on her tongue. I’d love to hear her screa– Shit. Stop that!

“You too,” I mumble, as I head for the stairs, realizing when I’m half way up that I didn’t even ask after Josh.

“You went shopping,” Josh comments, slipping his arms around my waist as he nuzzles his nose into my neck, while I’m cooking us some ground beef patties for dinner.

I lean into him and smile at his attention. “I did. And there’d be dessert too, but I got locked out and someone didn’t have their cell in the bedroom, so I couldn’t wake you to come down and unlock the door.”

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry.”

I turn around in his arms and slip my arms around his neck, curling them into his thick brown hair. “It’s fine, I met Dylan and he let me in.”

Josh’s mouth turns downward a little. “Oh yeah? And how did that go down?”

“Fine,” I shrug, thinking back to the tattooed man with a messy looking blond mohawk-type hair-do who approached me outside. I’d wondered how he was coping wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt in such stifling heat. Didn’t black absorb the heat and make you feel hotter? “He let me inside and helped carry the groceries in.”

Josh’s eyebrows rise. “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully.

“What?” I ask, wondering what that noise meant.

“Nothing, he just isn’t normally that nice to girls. I’m glad he was polite to you.”

“We barely said two words to each other. But yeah, he was nice.”

“Talking smack about me, buddy?” Dylan asks with a chuckle as he appears at the base of the stairs. Josh whoops loudly, happy to see his friend. They man hug and smile like the long lost friends they are, chatting for a long time, while repeatedly telling each other how good it is to see the other.

“You start working on Monday, right?” Dylan asks and Josh nods.

“Yup. No rest for me. Can you join us for dinner?”

“There’s plenty,” I put in, knowing that the simple meal of ground beef patties, salad and bread will easily spread to three.

“No. Not for me. I’m heading out to a club. You guys are welcome to come if you want. We can have a few welcome home drinks.”

Josh looks back at me, and I shrug, happy to go along with what with whatever he wants, while knowing my energy will begin to wan soon. But, I’m willing to tough it out. This may be the only weekend he gets to hang out with his friend before he starts work, and his job becomes so demanding that he’s rarely home.

As I turn and place the patties on a serving dish, I look over to Dylan. He’s watching me again in that curious way he was before. It makes me feel strange, and I wonder if my hair looks weird or if I have something on my face. I reach up and smooth my hand over my hair then wipe the back of my hands across my face. It
feels
fine...

“Do you mind if we stay in tonight? I think Avery’s pretty smashed. Maybe Friday?”

Dylan smiles and moves his hazel eyes back to Josh. “Sure, man. No problem. It’s good to see you.” He slaps Josh on the arm in a friendly gesture then grabs his keys before waving over his shoulder and heading out the door. We wait for a few moments before we hear the engine on his car rumble to life as he drives off.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to go,” I say, carrying our food over to the table. Josh helps, and we sit down together.

“And forgo an entire night in a house with just the two of us? No college dorms or mothers to interrupt – I’m not passing up on that.”

I feel the heat of a blush creep up my cheeks, as I meet the hunger in his eyes and feel a stirring low in my belly. “I'm starting to wish I'd had a nap too.”

***

“This one?” Josh asks as we stand in front of a 1999 Pontiac Sunfire SE. It’s black, but has obviously had the bonnet replaced at some point, as that is more of a matte charcoal color.

“It’s only a thousand so it’s in our budget. Maybe you should ask for a test drive?”

He looks in through the window. “There’s over two hundred thousand on it and a dent in the side. Maybe they’ll knock the price down a little.”

“Well, as long as it goes and it’s safe…?” I ask, looking at the car with trepidation. Being a New York native, I’ve never had cause to get a driver’s license, and neither did any of my friends. This is all very new to me.

The dealer walks over and begins to talk to Josh, completely ignoring me as they speak gibberish about the car’s specifications. It’s Friday afternoon, and the car yard is fairly quiet. I step away and lean up against the door of the car beside us and take out my phone to play a bit of Candy Crush to kill some time while they talk shop.

Supposedly, the back seats are only spacious enough for a small child or a dwarf, so when they take it for a test drive, I’m left sitting on a bench seat with only my phone for company.

“Hey!” I hear after a while. When I look up, it’s Roxy and she’s walking along the street with the man I remember as her husband from the photo she showed me. When she said he was little, she wasn’t lying. He’s even shorter than she is, and she only comes up my shoulder height – I’m 5’7”. Looking at them, I realize they’re they exact right size to fit in the back of the Pontiac.

“Hey, what are you doing over here?”

“Just taking a break to visit Georgie.” She looks at her husband adoringly. “We’re taking some food back for everyone at the shop. You wanna come and see it?”

“Oh, I’m waiting for Josh to get back.”

“You can’t sit there on your own. Call him or text him and tell him to meet you there.”

I shake my head, not wanting to leave Josh to feel like he has to make the decision on the car on his own – not that I can actually be of any help – and it’s his money, and his car… I’m sure he’d prefer it if I was with someone we know instead of sitting here on my own…I tap out a message to him then stand to follow Roxy and George.

“Sure. Sounds like more fun than sitting here.”

Roxy grins then introduces me to her husband while chattering away constantly while we walk a few blocks toward Venice Beach. There seem to be several tattoo parlors here, and she takes us into the one named ‘Flesh Art’.

I’ve never been inside a tattoo parlor before, and when I walk inside, it’s not what I expected. I had thought it would be kind of…dirty, I suppose. But, it isn’t anything of the sort. It’s all brightly lit, and the walls are decorated in a huge painted mural depicting various tattoo styles. The buzz of tattoo guns can be heard to my left, but are just out of sight until I’m led past reception to a waiting area where there’s a couch placed against a wall, and there’s a raised platform where there are six different tattoo stations set up. I can see Dylan hunched over a client who’s leaning forward while he tattoos a row of flowers across her lower back.

“We have a visitor,” Roxy sings, and I wonder if she is ever
not
happy.

Dylan pauses and turns around to meet my eyes. “Hey,” he says with a slight nod but little reaction to my presence – not that I expect him to react to me. I’m sure I’m far too average for a man like him to find interesting, and redheads aren't for everyone… Plus, he seems to have that whole bad-boy feel about him, which doesn’t gel with my follow-the-right-path-and-plan-your-future persona. Not that I should care about any of this, but, I do hope that we’ll find a way to become friends in time – at least for Josh’s sake.

“Hey,” I say back, stepping a little closer to admire his work. “That looks really beautiful,” I comment, and he nods as if he doesn’t want to be interrupted. So, I walk back over to where Roxy is standing and chatting to another artist with George. She introduces him as Mark, and he shakes my hand in greeting.

He seems nice. He’s little taller than me with dark hair that is kind of long and short all at the same time. It’s styled so it all sticks out in odd angles. Like the others, he’s covered in tattoos, although one arm looks as though it’s a work in progress. And he has friendly brown eyes.

For a while, we all chat, but then he has a client walk in, and George takes that as his cue to leave and tells the others that he’ll see them tonight. I look at Roxy curiously, wondering what it is they’re planning to do. It’s not that I’m expecting to be invited; it’s just that I’m curious by nature. Sometimes it’s a good thing; sometimes it makes me come off as pushy and rude.

“You should come with us, Avery. You and Josh – we’re going to the opening of a new club tonight. It’s called
Vibe.
It should be a lot of fun.”

I glance over at Dylan, who I’ve noticed has paused what he’s doing and turned his attention to us as he adjusts something on the gun he’s using. His eyes flick to me momentarily, so I can’t tell if he’s OK with us going or not, and I don’t feel capable of making this decision without at least talking to Josh first – he knows this world better than I do.

“Sounds fun, but I’ll have to see what Josh wants to do first,” I tell Roxy, who smiles and nods in acceptance.

When I look back over to Dylan, he’s fixed whatever problem he was having and is back at work inking the woman’s skin. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention at all?

I talk with Roxy some more while she shows me some of the process they go through while getting a tattoo design ready for the client. It’s all very interesting and takes a lot of skill to master, and I love going through their portfolio’s to see the designs on actual skin. Really, it’s quite beautiful, and the more she talks about it the more I see it as a form of art.

It’s not long before Josh arrives after purchasing the Pontiac for only eight hundred. “I never doubted your negotiating skills,” I say to him, as I wrap my arms behind his neck and kiss him. Before he can take me driving along the Ocean Road in our new car, Roxy tells him about the club opening.

“You want to go?” he asks me.

“I’m happy to go. It could be fun.”

“Sure,” he says with a smile. “We’ll meet you there.”