I hadn’t been in the shop during business hours so when I pushed open the door I was slightly taken aback at how busy it was. There was a girl behind the counter with supershort hair bleached out as white as mine and spiked up all over the place. She was answering the phone, handling the people milling about the waiting area, and pointing prospective clients in the directions of the appropriate portfolios. There were three other artists set up in the stations not filled by Nash, Rowdy, and Rule. I noticed one of them was a very pretty girl with black and green hair that looked like something out of a comic book. There were also six clients in varying positions getting all kinds of designs and making all manner of awful sounding noises and looks of discomfort that had their friends and the artists laughing and making lighthearted comments. Against Me! was blasting over the sound system and the entire vibe was energetic and exciting. I couldn’t fathom how anyone earned such a good living in such a crazy environment, but it seemed to suit Rule’s personality to a tee.
I stood unsure in the doorway for a full minute just taking it all in until I was jostled to the side by a girl in too-tight pants and disgusting UGGs. Her hair was teased up and I could see she had swirling sleeves of ink under her supertiny T-shirt. I guess she was good-looking in a trashy, desperate kind of way, but the girl behind the counter apparently had no time for her because her voice, loud and clear with a hint of an East Coast burr, told her none too graciously, “Fuck off, Liza. I already told you over the phone that he was booked up for the next two weeks and he has no interest in working late to touch your shit up.”
The girl mumbled something I couldn’t hear and leaned over the counter. The receptionist or whatever her title was rolled her eyes dramatically. “Look, let me break this down for you: he is not interested in you. You are a client—you give him money to tattoo you, not to date you and not to flirt with you. He’s busy, and I mean busy, so if you want work done, you will get put in the book like everyone else and come in for your scheduled appointment. Besides, he’s got a girlfriend now and has no interest in the little ink bunnies anymore.”
I blinked rapidly in surprise when I realized she was more than likely talking about Rule and that I was more than likely the girlfriend she was referring to. How strange was that? The girl continued to have a little bit of a fit until it became clear she wasn’t going to get past the blond fireball. She shoved past me on the way out the door, and a clean-cut college guy took her place at the desk. He made his appointment with no fuss and I continued to watch the ebb and flow of business for a while until the girl’s attention finally landed on me.
“Can I help you with something?” She wasn’t exactly friendly, more like matter-of-fact, so I started a little bit.
“I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Well, you can have a seat over there if you’re waiting for a client.”
I tucked my hair behind my ears and cocked my head to the side and regarded her carefully. “I’m actually waiting for Rule.”
Now that she was looking at me I could see she had really unusual-colored eyes; one was dark brown and the other was a swirl of green and blue. She gave a really heavy sigh and narrowed her eyes at me. “Like I told the other tattoo tramp, Rule is busy. If you want to see him, you have to have an appointment just like every other client.”
I snickered against my will. “Tattoo tramp? Is that what you call them?”
She seemed surprised by my question. “Yeah. You have no idea how many poor girls are walking around this town with stupid lower-back tattoos just because they wanted to pull their pants down for one of the guys.”
“Oh, I would totally believe it.”
She leaned her elbows on the counter and sized me up and down. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but then again you didn’t ask. I’m Shaw. I’m not a tramp of any persuasion and I don’t have any tattoos, so neither of those things apply to me.”
As soon as I said my name her jaw dropped open and she shoved off the big leather chair she was sitting on. Her wicked-colored eyes went wide and she smacked her hands down hard on the marble surface separating us.
“Holy shit! You’re Shaw? You’re freaking real? Unbelievable! Guys, Rule’s girl is here and she’s like an actual girl with an actual brain. Un-freaking-believable. The terrible trio has been talking about you for weeks and I just didn’t believe it, but here you really are.”
Like something out of a movie all eyes in the shop suddenly swiveled up to where I was standing. I had spent plenty of time with Nash and Rowdy over the last few weeks, so they both just offered up brief “heys” and went back to what they were working on. Rule’s look turned my insides out and he gave me a wink before saying something to the kid he was working on and sitting back to wipe the excess ink off. The other three artists stared at me openly, which would have made me uncomfortable, but the blonde had sprinted around the counter and was now standing right in front of me. She was almost the same height as me but weighed a good thirty pounds less, though somehow her wild hair made her look taller and it was hard to believe that loud voice came out of such a tiny package. She was like a punk-rock pixie.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for one of those guys to land a serious girlfriend? Forever! Sending away the ink bunnies has never been as satisfying as it is now and I never ever would have pegged Rule as the one to go down first.”
She waved a hand over her shoulder toward the opposite side of the shop, where the three artists I didn’t know were working and pointed to each one. “Bixie, she’s married to a firefighter so she’s never caused too much fuss with weirdo client stalkers. Mase has an on again-off again girlfriend so he can behave, but when they’re off he can give Rule a run for his money in the manwhore department. Jasper, well, we call him Jaz, keeps his liaisons quiet because he’s got ties with the Kings of Sorrow, the local biker club, and apparently that’s supposed to be hush-hush so the bunnies don’t hover around for him too much. But the terrible trio, man oh man, I show those bitches outta here all day every day, and even with Rule being hooked up with you it still seems like it’s my full-time job.”
She talked so loud and so fast I had a hard time tracking everything she was telling me. Plus, Rule had snapped off his gloves and was prowling toward me in the way that made my legs go all gooey. He moved with a limber ease that was just sexy and confident; also his hair was starting to grow back in and I liked the near black fuzz covering his scalp.
“Are you telling my girl stories, Cora? I told you Shaw’s been around for a long time—you aren’t going to be able to scare her.” He came around the corner and before I could get myself all worried about whether it was appropriate to touch him at work he had me all wound up with his hands in my hair and his mouth slanted across mine. He tasted like coffee and peppermint, and he didn’t seem to mind that all eyes remained on us while he thoroughly devoured me, like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks rather than just a few hours. He gave his tongue one last flick, clicking his tongue ring against the back of my teeth. When he pulled away I’m sure my eyes were glassy and I was breathing hard. I cleared my throat and put a shaky hand on his chest until I regained my composure. “I’ve got, like, a half an hour left. Are you cool to hang out that long? You can come chill in the back and do your school shit or whatever.” I nodded and took a step back from him. He was potent and went to my head fast.
“No, let her stay up here and hang out with me. I’m dying to know all about this mystical creature that got you to act human for once.”
He shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder at the pixie. “Shaw, this is Cora Lewis. She’s the shop manager and our resident body modification expert.”
She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and gave me a leer. She twirled a finger in Rule’s direction. “Since you’re