“This was a mistake. I suggest you start looking for a new job.”
Tears burn the back of my throat and sting my eyes as his words repeat over and over in my head. Of all the things that could have happened when we woke after our marathon sex session last night, him fucking me once again and then clearly expressing that it never should have happened and that he didn’t ever want to see me again wasn’t up there on my list.
His regretting it isn’t a surprise. I knew the second I allowed him in that I’d regret it, but I was powerless to stop, especially once he had his hands on me. I might hate the arrogant prick, but even I can’t deny that he’s hot and got some skills.
I’ve never had a night like that with a man before. This right now wouldn’t be so bad if the sex was terrible, but it fucking wasn’t. It was amazing. Even as I think about it my pussy clenches to feel him stretching me open again.
Sorry, not happening.
Refusing to allow myself to cry over Zach fucking Abbot, I get myself out of bed. The sun has barely started rising so I’m not surprised when I look at the clock to find it’s barely seven AM.
With a sigh, I plod through to my en suite. At least I had the foresight to drink some water last night so I’ve only got a slight twinge in my temples from the amount of alcohol we packed away.
Christ, was that only last night? As I sit on the toilet, I cast my mind back to the events of the night before. Of Summer and Diane’s horrified faces when they discovered where Danni had sent us, and then Summer’s pure terror when she was expected to go up on stage. If I hadn’t offered, would Zach have seen me? Would this whole disaster have never happened? Is the whole thing my fault because I was helping his soon-to-be sister-in-law out?
A bitter laugh falls from my lips. At least I feel less guilty about lying to him now if he’s going to continue to be the wanker I always thought him to be. I never had a look in where Zach and his idiot friends were concerned at school. I was too boring, too dull, too quiet to even feature on their radar. Maybe it’s just the way it’s meant to be that he got a taste of me after all this time, seeing as he seemed to make it his school mission to bed as many girls as possible. He just doesn’t know he’s knocked another off almost a decade later.
I have the longest shower in history as I try to wash the memories of last night away, although every time I move I’m reminded of every single thing he did to me. My muscles pull and my pussy is sore from the pounding it took after months of celibacy.
I eventually emerge from my room wearing an oversized jumper, which is so big that it hangs off one of my shoulders, that I stole from one of the previous guys I was seeing but never returned, and a pair of hot pants. I’m just about to walk out of my room when something silver on my bedside table catches my eye. Walking over, I find it’s the dog tag that Zach had around his neck last night.
Picking it up, I turn the piece of metal over. Jonathon Wilson. I know that name. It was one of his best mates at school. I’ve no idea what happened to him. Looking at this, I guess he joined the military at some point. Why would Zach be wearing it?
Without the caffeine I need, my brain doesn’t fire correctly so I place it back down and head out to the kitchen. I’ll worry about it later.
I’m standing at the coffee machine, wishing that it went faster, when a door cracking open startles me. I’d forgotten she was here.
Guilt hits me in waves, threatening to buckle my knees. What was I thinking last night? She could have come out when we were kissing. She could have heard banging in my room and walked in to check I was okay. She could have discovered that I’ve been lying to her since starting my new job.
Fuck. I rest back against the counter in an attempt to hold myself up. She looks rough. Maybe I was right last night and there was a very slim chance of her ever emerging.
I tell myself that, after we’ve both had some caffeine, I’ll confess.
“Morning,” I sing, much more cheerfully than I feel. “How are you feeling?”
“Fuck. Off,” she grunts, making me laugh. She gets to the coffee machine right as my cup’s finished brewing and swipes it from under the spout.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
“I need it more,” she counters, carrying it over to my sofa.
“Don’t you want milk?” I ask, knowing it’s how she usually has it.
“No.” I watch as she curls herself in the corner and hugs the mug in her hands. I think some might say that’s karma for what she did to poor Summer last night.
I make myself a drink and head over to join her.
We’re both silent as we sip at our too-hot coffees, desperate for the hit they’re going to give us. I try to come up with the right words to say to explain that I know more about her brother than she does, but every time I open my mouth to say any of them, they die on my tongue.
His words might have seriously hurt this morning, but still, I don’t feel right spilling his secret to Danni. Fucked up, I know, but I can’t help it.
“So, last night was fun,” I eventually say, steering well clear of anything involving my late night activities.
“You think Summer hates me?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’ll understand that you were just trying to allow her to go crazy.”
“I knew it wasn’t really her thing, but I wanted to push her a little. Make her step out of the comfort zone she and my brother live in on a daily basis,” she explains.
“I get it, Dan. But maybe you should have at least warned her. You saw what she was wearing, she had no clue what was about to hit her.”
Danni chuckles. “I know, right. Did you see the look on my mum’s face when the stripper came over and waved his cock in front of all of us? I thought we were going to have to ring an ambulance. You reckon that she’s only been with my dad?”
“They were together young, so I’d be tempted to say yes.”
“Can you imagine that? Only being with one man. Only experiencing one cock.”
“I’m sure it’s got its benefits,” I mutter, thinking of how much being rejected sucks even if it is by a one-night stand.
“Meh, your twenties are time for oat sewing. I’m all for testing out the market before choosing my prime cut.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve not exactly been tasting the goods recently.”
“Don’t remind me,” she groans, leaning forward to put her empty mug down and pulling her phone from her pocket. “I have got back to online dating though. Got a couple of hopefuls I’m chatting to right now.”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see.”
Taking pity on her, I move to slide up next to her on the sofa.
“Oh he’s hot,” I say when she shows me the first picture. He looks just her type. Perfectly put together, in a suit, slick, styled hair. The kind of man my parents would love to see on my arm.
“Right? He’s so sweet too, and so funny. I think I might suggest we meet soon.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“Banking, I think.”
“You think?”
“We’ve not really got down to the nitty gritty of boring stuff yet.”
I don’t argue with her, but I can’t help remembering how many times she’s told me that a man’s job is vital when it comes to dating. She doesn’t mean it in a pretentious, he-must-have-a-good-job-and-loads-of-money way, more that he needs to be motivated and hard working. I understand that and must admit that I share the sentiment.
“Ohhhh.” She suddenly sits up straighter as an idea hits her. “I should invite him to the wedding, and you can invite your sexy stripper. Has he rang yet? He was proper keen.” She elbows me as that part of last night comes back to me. I’d pushed it from my mind the second I’d walked away from Christian, and Zach most definitely shattered any memory of any other guy the moment he kissed me.
“I’m not inviting a stripper to a wedding, Dan. I can’t imagine it’s his idea of a perfect first date, can you?”
“I don’t know. It’s an open bar and free food. It could be worse.” She’s got a point, but I still don’t like the idea.
“I’ll message Carter now, see how he feels about it.”
“Maybe you should invite him for a drink or something first. If you can’t stand him in real life it’ll ruin the wedding.”
“Good idea. Go on then. You too.”
“Oh… um… I gave him my number, remember? I have to wait for him.”
She nods, her nose stuck in her own screen, smiling to herself as she asks this guy out.
“I’ll order breakfast. What do you fancy?”
My mind goes straight in the gutter, thinking that a re-run of my time with Zach is exactly what I fancy. Instead, I mutter, “Pancakes?”
“Ummm… yes.” She taps about on her phone before exclaiming that they’ll be here in thirty minutes and that she needs more coffee.
I get up to grab us both a refill, and it’s not until I sit back down next to her that she properly looks at me.
Her eyes focus on my neck, and her eyes narrow. My heart begins to race at what’s she’s found, my palms getting sweaty under her scrutiny. “Did I miss something last night?” She tilts her head to the side like a little puppy waiting for an answer.
Lifting my hand, I cover the bit of skin she’s staring at.
“Umm…” My cheeks flush. I’m unable to stop them as I picture our bodies rolling around my bed while she was sleeping on the other side of the wall. This would be the perfect time to admit the truth. But when I speak, very different words come out. “I… uh… had a moment with some guy last night.”
Her eyes go so wide I swear they might pop out. “Oh my god. Was it him? Please tell me it was him. The tension as he danced for you was fucking electric. Is that why he wanted your number so badly?”
I feel fucking awful, but the lie falls from my tongue too easily. “Yeah.”
Danni squeals, making me wince, and claps her hands in front of her in excitement while I die slightly inside. I never lie. Okay, so I may stretch the truth to my parents from time to time, but I don’t lie. Especially not to my best friend.
The pancakes are incredible, but they’re not enough to make me forget. Danni doesn’t miss the torment on my face, because before she gets up to leave, she suggests organising a night out with the guys after the wedding, I think in the hope it’ll cheer me up a little. I agree, because I always want to spend time with our friends and it seems to get harder and harder to get everyone together these days.
As the day passes, Danni bids me farewell and the time creeps around to when I should start getting ready for work. The butterflies and dread I felt this morning only get worse. Did he really mean what he said before he left, or was it just a spur of the moment comment?
There’s only one way to find out, I guess, and that’s to turn up. He should know that one barked order isn’t going to get rid of me. If I were that weak, I never would have returned after our first encounter. One thing’s for sure when it comes to what Zach thinks about me, and that’s that he underestimates me at every turn. He’s not going to get rid of me that easily. I love my job at his studio, and I love the guys. So what, he’s a dick? I’m sure we can learn to tolerate each other. Falling back into bed with him shouldn’t be an issue, seeing as he regretted it so much after the event.
I’m halfway to work when my phone rings. Part of me expects it to be him making sure I’m not going to turn up, but when I eventually manage to juggle the coffees in my hand and pull my phone out, and find an unknown number staring back at me, my stomach drops. It can only be one person.
“Hello?” I ask hesitantly.
“Hey, Biff?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Christian, from the bar the other week and then the uh… club last night,” he says like I might need the reminder of the most embarrassing night of my life.
“Oh, hey. How’s it going?”
“Good, good. I… uh… wondered if you fancied grabbing a drink one night this week.”
“Um…” I want to say no, but then the image of Zach walking away from me this morning pops into my head and a plan starts forming, causing the nerves fluttering in my belly to turn to excitement. He might want to play dirty, but he doesn’t realise just who he’s playing with. “Yeah, that sounds great. Monday to Wednesday would be best for me as I work the other nights.”
“How about Tuesday?”
“Can you text me with a place? I’m just about to start work.”
“Yeah, no worries.”
I come to a stop outside Rebel Ink and spot Zach’s blonde hair flash through reception and disappear towards his room. My next words are out of my mouth before I even really think of the consequences.
“I know this is a bit forward, and you’re probably busy but…” I suck in a breath before just going for it. “I’ve got a wedding to go to next weekend and I could really do with a date. Do you fancy it? I mean, if you’re free. It’s got an open bar and five-star food,” I ramble on, feeling like an idiot and not realising that he’s laughing at me down the line.
“That sounds great. I’d love to.”
“Okay, great. It’s Saturday afternoon into evening, but I can give you all the details on Tuesday.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I can practically hear his smile down the phone.
“Yeah… uh… me too.” I hang up before he has a chance to ask why I don’t sound quite as enthusiastic as him.
I could have just made the stupidest move ever. But it’s too late now.
I push the door open with my butt, not allowing myself to think about what I’ve just done, and I instead set about delivering the guys’ first coffee of the night.
“Here she is, our guardian fucking angel,” Titch announces, successfully making the others emerge who eagerly accept the coffees I hand them. “Uh oh, there’s only four. That mean boss man pissed you off?”
“Something like that,” a deep voice booms. I was too distracted by the others to notice his door open.
My heart jumps into my throat, but I refuse to turn and look into his eyes. I don’t need him to see how much he hurt me by walking away like he did this morning.
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today, Tabitha.” His voice is cold, unlike I’ve ever heard it before, and it makes a shiver run down my back and tears burn my eyes.
“Well… someone needs to keep these animals in line, eh?” With that said, I march back towards reception, drop my bag on my desk and race to the safety of the kitchen. Pushing the door to behind me, I blow out a breath. I need to be stronger than this. Just the sound of his voice shouldn’t almost reduce me to tears. I need to show him that no matter what he says, what he threatens, he doesn’t affect me.
Once I feel like I’ve got myself together, I hop up on one of the bar stools and sip my coffee in peace. We’ve got ten minutes until the open sign lights up, and I get the feeling I’m going to need every ounce of strength I possess to get through this shift.
I’m just about to get up to throw my cup in the bin when the door’s pushed open. I hold my breath as I wait to find out who it is that’s come to find me.
Turning to the sink quickly, I attempt to make it look like I’m busy.
“Stop pretending to wash up,” he barks, making every muscle in my body tense. He moves around the room. My body is so hyperaware of his that I don’t even need to look to know exactly where he stops.
“You’ve got something of mine.” The fact that it’s a statement rather than a question pisses me off.
“Do I?” I ask innocently, knowing full well that what he wants is currently sitting in my purse.
“Don’t try to play me, Tabby Cat. Give me back what’s mine, and if you’re lucky you might get through this shift unscathed, seeing as you foolishly ignored my suggestion and turned up for it anyway.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get off me,” I screech when his warm fingers grip my shoulder and force me to spin around so I’m facing him. He stands so close that I’ve no choice but to look up at him to keep eye contact. His eyes are dark and angry, his chest is heaving with frustration. He doesn’t let up on his painful grip even when I try to twist out of it.
“Where is it?”
I smile at him innocently, and he bares his teeth.
“I’m not fucking joking, Tabitha. Where it is?”
“Tell me why you wear it and I’ll consider it.”
“Fuck you,” he spits, taking a step back and turning before lifting his hands so his fingers grip his hair.
“You already did, remember? It’s what got us in this mess in the first place.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.” He takes a few deep breaths. “Look, that… it just… it means a lot to me and I’d like it back.”
“Is that you asking nicely?”
His shoulders rise and he drags in a long breath before blowing it back out. “Please.” The word is said through clenched teeth, but I can’t help but smile in achievement. “Please can I have it back?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Pushing from the counter he pinned me against, I walk out into reception. I have every intention of getting it for him the second I’m at my desk, because he really does seem quite cut up about it, but there are clients waiting.
I sort them out first. The whole time Zach stands behind me, watching my every move with steam practically shooting from his ears. For my own amusement, I make sure I’m extra thorough with each client.
Titch, Spike and D all come out to get their first victims of the day, and after about ten long minutes we’re once again alone.
“Well?” he asks, stepping up to me. His body heat burns into my side and his smell seeps into me. For a second I’m unable to function as memories of last night hit me like a fucking truck. My thighs press together, my knickers getting damper by the second. Man, he might be an epic prick, but fuck if I wouldn’t go for another round. “Tabitha?”
“Huh? Yeah?” I look up at him, and the second he looks into my eyes, he knows. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“That good, huh?”
“Yeah, the pancakes I had this morning were pretty fantastic, thanks for asking.”
“Right. Well…” He gestures towards my handbag.
I pick it up and pull my purse out. I’m just about to unzip the coin section to grab it when I stop.
“Why do you wear it? It’s not yours.”
“None of your business.”
“It’s clearly important to you. Who’s Jonathon, and why do you have it?”
“Just hand it over and stop pissing me about, I’ve got work to do.”
“Your client’s not due for thirty minutes,” I counter.
“You think that’s all I do. Sit around waiting for clients. This is my fucking business. I do everything. Now hand it fucking over so I can go. I’m fed up of looking at you.” His comment cuts, I can’t deny that, but I try not to allow it to show on my face.
“What happened to him?”
He looks up to the ceiling as if he’s praying for strength. “He died, okay? You happy now?” He shoves his hand out towards me once again.
The pain etched onto his face is enough to have me reaching for the dog tag and pulling it out. He snatches it from me before the chain even leaves my purse, sending coins scattering across the floor.
“Pick that shit up and get on with your job.” The emotion in his voice is almost enough to make me follow him to make sure he’s okay, but knowing that it’s probably the last thing he wants, I force myself to stay where I am until the slamming of his door reverberates through me.
I’m on my hands and knees, picking up the coins which he managed to spread far and wide, when the entrance bell goes off.
Glancing up, I see a young girl by the door looking around the place. She’s dressed simply in black ripped skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and a vintage looking leather jacket.
“Hi, can I help you?” I ask, climbing to my feet. When her blue eyes find mine, I can’t help but notice the hesitation in them. It’s a bit like she’s just realised she’s walked through the wrong door.
“Oh um… I’ve got an appointment.”
“Okay, come over.” As discreetly as I can, I run my eyes over her, questioning if she’s even old enough to be here. “What’s your name?” I ask once the computer’s woken up.
“Kassie Fox.”
I find she’s right and that she’s booked in. “Okay, I just need you to fill this out. If you can pass it back to me when you’re done, I’ll let Zach know that you’re here.” I swear she tenses at the mention of him. “Is this your first time here?”
“It is. But I’ve heard good things about the place.”
I nod as she steps away from my desk. “The guys are amazing.”
I keep my eyes on her as she drops her tote bag onto the coffee table and then shrugs off her jacket. I have a hard time stopping my mouth from dropping open in shock when she reveals that the t-shirt I thought she was wearing is actually a vest and that both her arms are already pretty well inked. When she turns and flicks her hair, I notice that there’s also ink there too. Okay, so maybe she’s older than she looks, seeing as she’s clearly has some experience with a tattoo gun.
She fills out the form in only a matter of minutes, and she’s soon handing it back over to me. I glance down to make sure she’s signed it and take note of her date of birth. She’s almost twenty. She sure doesn’t look it.
“I’m really, really sorry to ask this. But do you have any ID?”
“I do,” she says like she gets asked it on a daily basis. She pulls her passport from her bag and passes it over. Her hands tremble as she does so, making me even more suspicious.
“Fantastic, thank you. I’m sorry to have asked.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it. Comes with the territory of looking like a pre-teen.” I glance down at her chest, noting that she’s anything but a pre-teen in that department.
I smile softly. “You nervous?”
“Yeah. You’d think it would get easier, right?” She laughs as she lifts her arms and looks at her ink.
“You’ve got more experience than me, that’s for sure. I’ll let Zach know you’re here. He shouldn’t be too long.”
She takes a seat while I reluctantly push my chair back and head in the direction of his room.
