Crash Ride (15 page)

“Hey baby, what’s the hurry?” He eyed me curiously as the bouncer who had let us in earlier opened the door to let us back out.

I didn’t answer, instead I climbed the stairs that lead to the sidewalk, all my concentration on putting one foot in front of the other so I didn’t fall on my face. A trip to the emergency room was not on the agenda for tonight.

Relief flooded me once I’d finally made it to the top, the street still brimming with night traffic. “Megan, slow down.” Josh grabbed my wrist as I tried to hail a cab. “You want to tell me what that was about?” He spun me around and forced me to look at him. He didn’t seem mad, which was a plus, but he wasn’t going to let me get into a cab without some kind of explanation.

Words eluded me. What did I even say? He was a fun guy, sure, we weren’t a perfect match, but he’d been so incredibly nice to me. He had been a distraction and that hadn’t been fair. So rather than continue the lie, I went with the truth and hoped it would stop me from feeling like a total jerk.

“Look, you’re a nice guy but we can’t see each other any more. I thought I was ready to date someone but I’m not. I don’t want to give you the it’s-not-you-it’s-me line but it really is
me
. I just can’t do this.”

He slowly let go of my wrist. “Is this because you’re running away from
him
?” His head jerked to the direction of the rickety stairwell.

“Huh?” My mouth dropped open. How did he know? Did one of my subconscious thoughts actually come out of my mouth or had he seen us together? Did I deny or confirm it? Now would have been a good time for some random act of God. In the end, my silence had been enough.

“Megan, you and me, we’re in a similar line of work. You’d be surprised how much you learn about a person when they are lying in your chair, waiting for you to tattoo them. Some get chatty, some stay quiet like you did; either way, you can read all you need to read from their body.” There was a kindness in his eyes when he spoke, it made me hate myself even more.  “There are usually three different types of people who come and get ink.”

He held up his fingers and started to list them. “One. The living canvas. For these people their skin is blank pages that they use to tell their story. There is no separation between the art and them. It’s a part of them as much as an ear or a toe. It’s an addiction as well as an expression. Two. The weekend warrior. They go under the needle to earn cool points or to follow trend. These are the people who usually get some lame tribal band around their arm or a tramp stamp. They get tats that are highly visible and often cheesy. I don’t judge, but I assume that five to ten years down the track they will be spending time with a laser. Three. The tortured soul. They use the art as therapy, to memorialize something or a loved one. They mark their skins with tributes and dedications or a connection to something or someone. It’s just for them; displayed or not displayed it wouldn’t mean any more or less.

“I knew when you came into my studio that you weren’t a weekend warrior and you had virgin skin so it just left the last option. That’s why I asked you to sit down and let me draw something. I could tell you needed it.”

“They are beautiful.” My hands involuntary brushed across my hips where my tattoos were safely hidden.

“Like the girl who’s wearing them.” He smiled. “I didn’t know it was a guy, but I sensed your head was elsewhere. You’re
really
pretty though and I just thought I’d take a chance. Hoping whatever demon was chasing you would hopefully quiet down and we could get to know each other a little better. You seemed like you would be a lot of fun. The not wanting to kiss me should have tipped me off that you weren’t interested, but you know…” He gave me an adorable smile. “I figured I’d keep trying.”

“I’m sorry.” I swallowed. “I feel so fucking terrible right now.”

Apparently the pedestrians on the street didn’t care for my heart felt apology, nor did they seem invested in our chat; their heated stares glared as they jostled past us as we stood in the middle of the sidewalk. Josh gently took my hand and guided me away from the foot traffic and onto a nearby stoop.

“Why? ’Cause you went out with me?” He rubbed the base of his chin, his eyes confused like he could comprehend why I’d felt bad.

Because I used you, because there was never going to be anyone else other than him
. The words I eventually said were softer but no less true. “Because I let you believe there was more than there was.”

“You didn’t do anything like that.” He laughed. “I had a ball, didn’t you have fun? Cheese fries and drag queens, I don’t think I’ve ever had a date like that.”

“Yeah, it was nice.” I agreed, for the most part it had been pleasant. It certainly wasn’t terrible and as horrible as it sounded, he had been a lovely distraction.

“Megan, I really like seeing that beautiful smile and it’s been cool hanging out with you over the last week or so. But a man can’t really compete with a memory, especially one that is still very much in your life.” He gave me slight shrug of the shoulders.

Did I explain further or did I let it go? I’d never met a guy who’d seemed so relaxed about the fact his date wasn’t actually interested in him. It confused me a little but most of all, I was glad. Josh had been right about one thing, we
were
in a similar line of work. He knew exactly what to say and exactly how to say it. There was going to be no dramatic showdown on the street and I was glad that I had walked into his shop that day. He’d given me so much more than the beautiful feathers that now graced my skin.

“Do I owe you any extra money for the counseling? I feel like those tattoos were hugely under priced,” I asked cautiously, thankful that out of all the tattoo shops in all of New York, I walked into his.

Another shrug, another smile. “Nah, you were a nice canvas to work on. I got to look at your beautiful skin for hours instead of a big sweaty biker. You also smell a lot nicer than they usually do.”

And just like that it was over. It had been almost anticlimactic. We both knew we probably wouldn’t be seeing each again, not unless I decided to get another tattoo, and there was an easy sense of calm around the end of it. If I didn’t think it would send the wrong signal, I would have given him a big hug but instead I opted for a shoulder bump and a smile. “Thanks, Josh, I showered that morning and everything. I’m so glad I didn’t stink.”

He playfully bumped me back and smiled. “I know the date’s pretty much a bust, but will you let me drive you home?”

“Yeah, I would like that.”

I can’t believe she
just left with the asshole. She had asked me to hold her, and then she turned around and left with
him
. One thing was fucking clear— she still wanted me as much as I still wanted her. I felt it and I saw it in her eyes when I’d wrapped my arms around her. It was not fucking one-sided and all she had to do was
not
go home with him.

I didn’t say a fucking word when she told me she had started dating some dude. The chair I threw at the wall, well that couldn’t be helped. She was so cagey about how they’d met. He wasn’t even her type as far as I could tell but if she was happy, then I’d keep a lid on it. I’d even kept my trap shut when she mentioned he’d kissed her. Yep. That had been a fun night. I’d gotten into my Lambo and redlined the shit out of it before I calmed down enough to finally go home. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be kissing some other guy, not unless you counted the fact that I didn’t want her to. Nope, those lips I only wanted on me.

Seeing his hands on her, calling her
baby
, was more than I could fucking stand. But the kicker was her playing it off like she barely knew me. The fucking icing on the cake.

I’d been ready to tell her to forget it; I wasn’t really interested in being some chump who sat on the sidelines. But those eyes, when she said she was sorry, there was no way those words would come out of my mouth. She didn’t just look fucking sorry, she looked sad. Tore me up. I didn’t care if it was me or the situation— I wanted it to stop. The hug; it was the beginning of the end.

My hands on her were something I’d avoided. Why torture myself? But the minute that I had her, there was no way I could pretend she didn’t matter, that I didn’t want her. That I didn’t think about her, each and every fucking night.

So what did she do? She turned around and left with some other guy who, as far as I was concerned, hadn’t proved he deserved her.

“Dude, that vein in your neck bulges any more than it is now, you’re going to spring a leak.” Jase’s stare nailed me from across the table.

“I just think she can do better than him. C’mon, Jase, even you can admit she doesn’t belong with him.” The pool cue in my hand was probably getting a little more pressure than it would have liked.

Jase shrugged. “He seemed okay.” He pulled the cue out from my death grip before it snapped. Smart move.

“Okay? Are you serious, brother? He called her
Megan
the whole fucking time. Everyone knows she prefers Megs.” None of this shit was even close to being okay.

Jase took a swig of his beer, his smirk poking out from behind the bottle. “So it’s her date’s tendency to use her
real
name that has you in a mood. Good to know.” His shit-eating grin got wider. Smug bastard.

Too juiced up to stand still, I paced around the room. “And what the fuck is up with calling her
baby
? He’s known her for like five fucking minutes. Maybe he should’ve just pulled his dick out and taken a piss on her, it would have been less obvious.”

Jase eyeballed me hard, planting his ass on the beat-up couch beside the table. “So you going to tell me how long you’ve been sleeping with her or we going to insult the poor dude some more?”

“Fuck.”

I thought it as well as said it. No point denying it now, I’d been acting like a moody asshole since Megs had walked in. It was only a matter of time before he wised up and put two and two together. Must’ve been why he asked Josh to go have a friendly beer with him at the bar, not his hard-on for the off-menu microbrew. He’d clued up that we needed to talk, and like the stand-up guy that he was, he made it happen. I parked my ass on the chair next to him and slowly let out a breath.

“I’d suspected as much.” Jase casually took another mouthful of beer. “Dan might have his head up his ass, but I’ve noticed your little secret squirrel meetings with Megs, and your lack of female company.”

“We thought we’d kept it under wraps.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and hoped no one else had caught the vibe.

“Trust me, dude, I’m almost positive no one has noticed. James and Alex are so focused on the album and we’ve already established Dan’s main concern is making Ash his Mrs.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured if you hadn’t mentioned it, you probably didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t going to push the issue.”

That was the big difference between Jason and Dan. If I’d been sitting here with Dan, he would have run his mouth for the next few hours demanding to know the how’s and what’s of the situation. Jase on the other hand, had no interest in the details. He just sat back and relaxed, and if you wanted to spill your guts then he’d happily listen. No pressure, either way. It was the main reason why I’d called him and asked to shoot some pool with me tonight. I didn’t want the fucking twenty questions that usually came with a night out with Dan.

“Megs had said she had a date tonight, I had no idea she was coming here. He’d already kissed her, third date and everything. Do the math. I wasn’t going to sit at home like a fucking little bitch.”

“So I’m your rebound. Nice.” Jase tipped his chin with a grin.

“Well getting loaded and other women were off the table so… No one gives a fuck who we are here. I just wanted to shoot some pool, maybe have a beer without someone trying to crawl into my lap.”

That had been the plan at least. Then she’d walked through the doorway; looking so hot I’d had to nail my feet to floor so I didn’t walk straight over to her and attack her mouth. The fact she was with a dude meant jack shit to me. As far as I was concerned, the asshole was touching what didn’t belong to him.

My head fell back against the couch, wondering if while I was sitting with my dick in my hand, the tattoo king of NYC was rounding second base. “This is so fucked up, man.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the fucking century.

“So, I’m guessing this was more than just a sex thing.” Jase proved how smart he was by reading between the lines.

I shut my eyes and let out a breath. “Yep.”

“You love her?”

Jase’s simple question was like taking a bat swing upside my head. Did I love her? I didn’t want to be without her, and if that’s what love was then yeah, I was there.

Well, fuck me. I wasn’t just being a jealous asshole, nope. It went much deeper than that, but there was no way the first time I would be saying it would be to Jase. It would be to Megs, or not at all.

“What I do know for sure is, that I like her a hell of a lot and I don’t want her with someone else.”

Jase drained the rest of his beer and cracked his knuckles. “Sounds like we have problem.”

“Yep.”

“You want to go get a burger or something, talk some of this shit out?”

“Should we paint each other’s toenails as well?”

“Well I sure as hell ain’t going to try and braid that shit you call hair.”

“Let’s get out of here, I need some distance.”

“Right behind you.”

****

While we’d decided against painting each other’s nails, we did end up back at my place. Somewhere in between throwing a few hands of poker and tossing back a few beers, I’d given Jase the rundown on the Megs dilemma. It didn’t solve shit but it kept me from punching holes in the drywall. I didn’t even want to think about how Megs had spent her night. Nope, not going there. I was pushing that shit to the side of my brain that had a big do-not-disturb sign hanging off it.

We must have crashed at some point because when I woke up in the morning there was a half spilled bottle of beer on the floor and a passed out Jason Irwin snoring on the rug.

“Dude.” I reached down and gave him a shove. “How much did we drink last night?”

Jase peeled open an eye. “Fuck, man. Your floor sucks.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I have the mother of all headaches. I need about ten Excedrin and five gallons of coffee.”

“On it.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and sent Dan a text to bring some coffee around. The day wasn’t going to be pretty for either of us. The empties of the floor gave me a hint we’d drank more than a case between us.

My stomach rolled as I made it my feet. “Grab the door when he gets here. I’ll get the Excedrin so this sucks a little less.” Not that I was convinced they were going to make a shit of difference, nothing in my medicine cabinet was even going to make a dent.

I needed out of here. The place, the situation and the mind frame. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I snagged the bottle of pills from the bathroom cabinet and went back to the living room.

“Fuck, you both look like shit. Rough night?” Dan tossed me the what-the-fuck the minute I walked back in.

Awesome. My morning hadn’t sucked enough.

“Don’t start asswipe. I have zero mood for your shit.”

“Wow. You seriously need to get laid.” Dan handed me his usual response as he parked his ass on my two-seater.

Yeah,
that
was the fucking solution. Not likely. “Thanks but I don’t think any amount of pussy is going to cure the migraine.” I tossed the bottle of Excedrin to Jase.

“Shit going down I need to know about?” Dan eyeballed me as I collapsed into the chair beside him. He didn’t need to say he had my back— the look was enough.

“Nope, just need to sober myself up so I can drive.” That’s about as much as I was willing to share. My head fell back and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my liver to kick in and get the show on the road.

“You taking off?” Dan asked.

“Yeah, a couple of days. Maybe Atlantic City?” My eyes rolled back into focus as I lifted my lids. Who knew where I’d end up. The location was irrelevant. The distance was what mattered.

“You want some company? I’ve got no where to be.” Jase swallowed his pills followed by his Java chaser.

“Fuck it, we should all go. We’ll be like the Wolf pack. Let me square things away with Ash.” Dan didn’t bother to check if I wanted the tag along. I guessed this was his version of trying to make me feel better.

“No offence, but I don’t need my hand held.”

“Stop being a buzzkill. We’ll even find someone to suck your dick while we’re there. Trust me, it will improve your
zero mood
bullshit. Bring your suit too, I want to play the tables and I’m going to need a spotter,” Dan added, not giving a fuck that he hadn’t been invited.

“Fuck me, this isn’t about your scheme for counting cards is it?” Jase lowered his cup.

Dan folded his arms across his chest not willing to admit his plan was bogus. “Hate all you want, but that shit is full proof.”

“Hey Rain Man.” I didn’t even bother addressing how much we weren’t going to be getting my dick sucked. “You get caught doing that, a big scary asshole takes you into a little back room and messes you up so badly you’re going to spend the rest of your days shitting into a bag.”

“Seriously, Troy.” Dan rolled his eyes. “I’m going to need to hook you up with Megs with some therapy. That is just messed up.”

Silence.

“Okay. Someone want to tell me why we’re eyeballing each other and don’t give me some bullshit excuse about being hung over.” Dan shot us a both the start-talking look.

“We saw Megs last night.” This was going to be fun. Of all the things I didn’t want to talk about,
Megs
and
last night
were at the top of the list. “I was less than polite to her and her date.”

“Megs was on a date last night? Huh, must have been the last one. Anyway, you need to jump on the horn and make that shit right.” Dan poked me in the chest. “No need to be a pussy about it, just tell her you’re sorry and move on. She’ll forgive you. That girl is a sweetheart.”

Ain’t no way things would be smoothed over by a phone call but the dude wasn’t to know that. How would that call even go? Hey, I know you were with some other dude last night but I wised up to the fact I’m in love with you and need you to be my girl. Too little, too late on that one. And what the fuck was the rest of the stuff he was talking about?

“Wait a minute. What do you mean by
last
one?”

Dan waved it off, already bored with conversation. “I mean she called Ash last night, she isn’t seeing the tattoo guy anymore. Something about it not working out. I didn’t pay too much attention.”