~ ~~
“Why are we doing this again?” I ask as I swipe invisible dirt from my skirt.
“Um, because my boyfriend told me you could cut the sexual tension with a spoon when your new neighbor, whom I didn’t even know you had, walked through the door earlier.”
Right. I didn’t tell Jordan about Declan. He’s been my dirty little secret for months, and I liked keeping our friendship to myself. Well, I don’t think we’re friends anymore, but whatever.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her while I sit on the lid of the toilet in the coffee shop, and she puts on a coat of Chapstick. “Would it be a bad time to tell you he’s also the tattooed guy I matched with a few months ago?”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “What the fuck, Penny!” she yells.
I hold up my hands. “Calm down. To be fair, you had your own shit going on and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“Bother me with it? What are you talking about? You talking to a guy is not ‘bothering’ me, you jerk face.” She playfully slaps me on the shoulder. “Are you guys a thing? Tell me you’re a thing!”
I shake my head. “No. We kept our identities anonymous online and decided to be text buddies. When he showed up in Daybreak and I figured out it was him, I told him we should probably put our chats on hold. Plus, he’s a totally different person in real life than over messaging.”
“Interesting. Let’s table this conversation for later. I need to see this guy because Lucas says he looks like a Viking. Plus, people are going to start to wonder why we’ve been in here for so long.”
“Do we have to go? It’s weird between him and me now.”
“Yes! He invited everyone. Plus, I can network while I’m there.”
I groan. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Jordan’s dad and Lucas have already headed over, along with my mom, dad, and Autumn. Kyle, Sage, Wren, Jordan, and I are the only ones who haven’t gone over yet.
“What took you so long?” Kyle asks when we exit the bathroom.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll take as long as I want to.”
“Be nice,” Jordan says to me, and I plant a fake smile on my face.
I give Kyle shit because he tried robbing Beach Brew a few months ago. And the idiot that I am decided to give him a job. Call it a bleeding heart, but when he apologized to me, he started crying and told me his mom didn’t make enough money to feed their family and get her medication. Was it the smartest idea to hire a kid who tried to steal from us? No. But it’s worked in my favor because he’s one of the hardest-working employees we’ve ever had. He does everything without complaint, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s trying to make upfor what he did or if that’s just his work ethic in general, but either way, he’s gone above and beyond here at the shop.
Kyle is holding back a laugh, and Sage and Wren are watching the interaction with confusion.
“Let’s go, Beach Brew Crew,” I chant, and they all file out the door behind me like little ducklings following their mama.
The sweat under my armpits is a dead giveaway that I’m nervous, even though it’s only fifty-eight degrees out. The ten steps it takes to get to the tattoo shop's front door are like walking to the guillotine. But my eyes widen in surprise when we reach the storefront, and I finally have a full view of the inside of the tattoo shop.
Besides the fact that it’s packed full of people already, the space is almost reminiscent of the coffee shop. The one thing that I notice right away is the dark green paint that wasn’t there when I peeked through the window the other week. All the wainscoting on the lower third of the shop walls has a beautiful color of green that warms up the space while simultaneously giving it a moody look. The tattoo chairs are a warm butterscotch color as well as the reception seating couches. The reception desk looks custom-made from reclaimed wood, placed in a chevron pattern, and there are hanging plants and greenery all over.
It looks unlike any tattoo shop I’ve ever seen.
It’s beautiful and inviting.
All five of us file through the door, and multiple heads whip our way. I feel like I have something in my teeth, but I know I don’t because I just looked in the mirror. I have the urge to fidget where I stand, but instead, I push up the sleeves of my cream chunky knit sweater, so I don’t overheat. Classic rock music is softly playing in the background, and everyone goes back to chatting a moment later.
There are all walks of life in here. I can spot a couple of the local surfers who come into our coffee shop, some harder-looking guys covered in tattoos, and even a priest is hanging around by the food that’s set up at the reception desk.
My group splits up, and I hear my daughter a moment later. “Mommy! Look! I got a tattoo,” Autumn yells and comes to a screeching halt in front of me.
My eyes widen, but when I look down at her arm, I can tell it’s a temporary tattoo because it’s a pink, sparkly unicorn.
“Wow, I love it,” I tell her, and she beams.
“My new friend, Preston, gave it to me.”
