Page 30 of Ink

Maybe Madame Salem is right—I am on the path I’m meant to be on.

“Sup, girl. Diggin’ the hair.” Tommy smiles at me as he walks in for the day, heading straight back to his room.

“Thanks.” I return the smile.

That’s one thing I love about him. He’s super nice but doesn’t do small talk. I don’t feel the pressure to keep the conversation going.

Once I’m left to myself, I busy myself with opening up the front. Turning on the computer monitor, I wait for it to fire up so I can pull up the appointment book. Bending down with my eyes still on the screen, I open the bottom cabinet and grab the duster. I scan today’s schedule to get a feel for how many are on the books. Gage has an appointment in thirty minutes for a tattoo, and the rest of the guys don’t have anything until midafternoon.

I try to make sure I’m always behind the desk when a client comes in. In my mind, it looks more professional than making them awkwardly wait and hope someone comes out to help them. In the meantime, I dust the decor around the lobby.

Various art pieces that all the guys have drawn litter the walls creating a gallery wall affect which I love. I’ve always been more of a maximalist than a minimalist. I could never decorate like that, though. Zach never liked clutter, and I always felt like our house never felt lived in.

After carefully dusting each frame, I make my way over to the large neon sign on the back wall that says “Get inked or get out” to clean that, too. After that, I fluff the throw pillows that have seen better days on the small couch and spritz the area with the room spray I found in the desk when I was snooping around. I finish just as the bell above the front door chimes, signaling a client is here.

“Hi.” I smile politely at the man as I walk behind the desk. “Are you Derrick?”

“I am.” A sly smile takes over his face as he approaches the desk.

I take him in as he towers over me. He has to easily be over six feet tall. His shaggy brown hair curls at the ears, giving him a boyish innocence, but anyone with two eyes can tell that’s anything but the case when you take in the rest of him. A black muscle tee hugs his body, outlining every dent and ripple and holy cow is he ripped. His arms are covered in tattoos, making me wonder where he’s getting tatted because from where I’m standing it doesn’t look like there’s any open skin left. As my eyes make their way back up his body, I take in the smirk that’s surrounded by little dirty blonde whiskers, letting me know he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. Derrick winks at me when I finally meet his gaze again.

Busted.

A rush of heat flushes my cheeks from being caught checking this man out when he’s right in front of me. Could I have been any more obvious?

Clearing my throat, I try to contain the burn on my face but instead, it only intensifies. “Your appointment is with Gage, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here. You can have a seat and he’ll be out shortly.”

I don’t wait for him to respond before I turn on my heel and walk the fastest I can without turning into a run to Gage’s room.

Knocking on the door frame as I stick my head in, I tell him his client is here.

“Are you alright?” Gage asks, looking up from the drawing he’s working on.

“Yeah,” I squeak out. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You look all flushed and fidgety.” Gage narrows his eyes as he examines me. “Did Ink do something again?”

My face scrunches up at the mention of him. “Other than get on my last nerve, no.”

Gage lets out a loud laugh. “Don’t let him get to you. I know I’ve said this before, but I swear he isn’t usually this grumpy. Let Derrick know I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Will do.”

Derrick either didn’t hear me or decided not to take a seat because he’s still standing in the same spot I left him in.

“Gage will be out in just a minute,” I tell him, trying my best to not make a fool of myself twice with this man.

Derrick rests his forearm on the desk as he leans against it. Tapping his fingers on the metal surface, he looks around casually before turning his attention back to me. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

Uh… what’s happening?

My heart starts thundering in my chest at the turn in conversation.

“Ah, no. No boyfriend.”