I sigh at my answer.
“Nah. I want them though.”
“Them?” The woman nods enthusiastically, leaning closer to study me. “A boy that wants a fuck load of ink, I respect that.”
A boy?
“Crane.” Kai waves at me, walking backward as he follows a group of pretty girls. “Let’s go.”
“Heather.”
The woman thrusts her hand out, and I can’t help but notice the nameRafetattooed across four fingers.
“Who’s Rafe?” I drawl, still holding her hand until she whips it back.
She isn’t Sierra, but she’ll do.
“The man who changed me from a blank canvas to this.”
I nod, rising to my feet.
“Wanna meet him?” Heather continues, glancing at Kai. “Bring your friend if you want.”
“Where?” I dream of a dirty bar where I can drink whiskey and get inked whilst this woman sucks me off.
Heather laughs.
“At his studio, of course. He has his own parlour.”
“Yeah? Where?”
I’m invested now, and even Kai has given up on the girls to come and join us.
He casts a glance over Heather, shrugging at me when he thinks she’s not looking.
“Downtown, I’m getting a ride but I can give you the address.”
Heather tugs out a tattered business card, holding it out from beneath black nails.
“See you there.”
Kai watches as she strides away, his eyes widening.
“She looks like fun.”
I study the card.
Ink Station.
For the first time in a long time, I smile. A real, genuine smile.
“The fucking Ink Station?” I whistle.
I’d been past it many times, but there was no way I could afford a session with any of the artists there.
Kai laughs, shaking his head as a black motorbike pulls up with one heavily tattooed guy nodding at Heather. He glares at me until she hops onto the back, blowing us a kiss before sliding her arms around his waist.
“Uber to the Ink Station then?” Kai pulls his phone out of his pocket, and I chuckle.
