Page 6 of Ink

A low growl escapes my clenched jaw as Gage walks out of the storage room, past me, and toward his station.

I need to kick this mood I’ve been in for the past month. It’s not me. I’ve never been the asshole guy. I’m always the guy with the panty dropping smile that can charm his way in without having to work for it.

This past month I’ve just felt… restless.

Like I need a change, but I don’t know what that change is. All I know is that something is missing and I’m starting to feel stuck.

I love my brothers and my club. I’m damn proud of the shop I’ve built from the ground up. Gage and Tommy aren’t part of the club, but I consider them brothers, too. Just from a different family.

Maybe I need to get laid.

If I’m being honest, the club girls haven’t been doing it for me lately. The cheap cherry body spray they all bathe in makes me nauseous. I can’t stick my dick in one without thinking it’s going to burn off.

I just finished a phone call with a girl wanting to get her belly button pierced when the bell chiming above the front door has me looking up.

A woman that can’t be much taller than five feet tall walks in looking almost afraid as she scans the lobby.

“Can I help you?” She jumps at the sound of my voice, her round eyes locking on me as she notices me standing here. “You here for a piercing or somethin’, darlin’?”

Her eyebrows furrow slightly before she finally decides to say something. “No, I’m uh, looking for Gage?”

I tried to keep the shock that rocked through my body off my face, but I know I failed miserably. I would have bet my fuckin’ bike that this woman wasn’t here for a tattoo. She looks like she’s never stepped foot in a place like this before.

Her yellowish blonde hair clashes against her pale skin, washing her out. I can tell it’s not her natural color because the roots growing out are brown. Her round, hazel eyes give her that innocent, nerdy girl vibe. Her clothes are giving forty-year-old mom that carts her kids around in a beat-up minivan. Nothing about her screams let me get some type of body modification done, but it wouldn’t be the first time some goody two shoes got a wild hair to get a fine line tattoo.

I don’t know when small ass line tattoos became the definition of being “tatted” but apparently that’s a fucking thing now.

Definitely not my type.

“You Gage’s 1:30?”

That cute as fuck confused expression she has on her face deepens. “I could of swore he told me 1 o’clock, but it’s highly possible that I misheard him.”

You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me.

“Hang tight, darlin’.” I give her a tight smile before heading down the hall towards Gage’s station, ready to rip him a new one. His door is open, but I still rap my knuckles against the frame to let him know I’m here. “Yo, what the fuck?”

“What?” He looks up from the drawing he’s working on his tablet.

“The new girl is here.”

“Okay?” he says sarcastically. “Show her to the desk. My client will be here in thirty.”

“Have you gone blind?”

“No, what the fuck is your problem?”

What the fuck is my problem?

I know he has two fucking eyes.

“My problem is you hired someone that looks uptight as hell. She doesn’t fuckin’ belong here and you know it. She’s wearin’ khaki pants for fuck’s sake.”

“I know she doesn’t look like the last girl, but it’s not like we had a lineup of interviews. You’ve bitched about having to answer the phone and keep up with appointments for the last few months and I’m sick of listening to it, so yeah, I hired her. If she doesn’t work out, we find someone else. What’s the big fucking deal?”

I move my bottom jaw around in a circle to ease the tension from having it clenched so hard. “The big fuckin’ deal is that she’s going to scare off walk-ins lookin’ like that.”

“At least she won’t be fucking them all while they’re waiting,” he shoots back.