Page 12 of Viking Ink

I hadn’t bothered looking at the menu most times I’d been in here, only just able to afford a cup of tea, and a quick look had me feeling slightly overwhelmed. I never was much good at dealing with choices or making quick decisions. My brain would freeze, terrified I might make the wrong choice.

Simon gave a gentle smile, almost as if he’d read my mind. “Do you mind if I order for us, Rhys?”

Letting out a relieved breath, I nodded. “Please.”

Simon turned to the waitress, giving her a broad grin. “Hey Lottie, I think I’ll have a mug of tea and Rhys a mug of hot cocoa if you could.” He looked in my direction and I gave a thumbs up. Hot cocoa on a cold morning was the best. Who was I kidding? Hot cocoa, every day, at any time, was the best. My dad had never let me have anything like chocolate, or junk food in general, and the first time I’d tried it I’d thought I had found heaven.

“I’ll have two full English, toast on the side,” Simon said.

Lottie nodded. “We got in some fresh black pudding. Did you want some fried up?”

“Oh, Lottie, you do tempt me. Go on, just a few slices. What about you, Rhys? Did you want some?”

I shook my head vigorously. Nope, no way. “Sorry, black pudding and brussels sprouts are evil.” I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

Lottie wandered back off to the kitchen with our order.

“I’ll keep that in mind. No sprouts or black pudding for you. Any other foods that go on your evil list?” Simon smiled, leaning back against the seat.

“Not really. To be honest, I didn’t get much of a variety of food growing up. My dad was a no-frills eater, and my stepmother was not a good cook. I tried cocoa for the first time when I got here, so I’m still working out what I like.”

Simon nodded. “I like cooking, but never do it much. Not worth the effort when it’s just me. My Da made sure we learned how to cook, though. He wanted us to be self-sufficient.”

I sat back when Lottie came out with two heaped plates. I’d never seen so much food for breakfast in my life. Thick cut bacon and perfectly fried eggs, a thick breakfast sausage, beans, and fried tomatoes—there was no way I would get through it all, but damn if I wasn’t going to try.

I attacked the food with gusto and Simon chuckled softly. “Easy, lad. It’s not going anywhere. You don’t want to give yourself an upset stomach.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but this is really good.”

Simon ate his breakfast at a much more sedate pace, interspersing mouthfuls of food with conversation, telling me about his brother and the others who worked at the tattoo store. I found out that his brother Mitch was twenty-seven, a few years older than me, and that on the weekend, they were going to help him move all his belongings from his ex’s flat to Callum’s place. Simon explained that Callum was his best friend and had taught him how to tattoo.

“He sounds like an amazing friend.” I sighed, maybe a touch wistfully. I wished I’d had a friend like that growing up—or now. It might’ve made a difference.

Simon leaned forward, his elbows on the table, chin resting in his hands. “He’s been a teacher and mentor. He’s taught me a lot over the years, and not just tattooing.”

The affectionate way Simon spoke of Callum had me wondering. Were they more than just friends? He’d said last night that Callum had a daughter and had broken up with his girlfriend, but I wondered if there was a history between them. Would it be rude to ask?

“Were you and Callum, um...?” I blushed and couldn’t finish the question.

But Simon just laughed softly. “No, he and I are alike in many ways, and we are both very...” Simon stopped as if to think. “Dominant, I suppose, is the word I’m looking for. And we both look for something different in relationships.”

“Oh,” I said, not really understanding.

“Did you have someone special? Someone like Cal?” Simon asked softly.

I fiddled with the napkin in front of me, tearing it into small pieces. “Dad never let me have friends, and most kids didn’t want to be friends with me anyway.” I looked up into Simon’s eyes and saw kindness and understanding. Being near him made me feel brave, so I spoke the words I never had. “I never had a boyfriend, or even went out on a date.”

Simon reached over and covered my hand with one of his. The gentle pressure when he squeezed was like a lifeline I hadn’t known I needed.

“You’re here now, lad, and I can tell you that you already have friends here. And if you ever feel like you want to date, or try to, you will have all of us looking out for you.”

I smiled even though I felt scared. I wanted to say to Simon that the only person I wanted to date was him. But why would he even look twice at a scared, skinny dork like me? He was my friend, my first proper friend, and I wasn’t going to ruin that with my crush.

Chewing my lip, I mulled over a question while Simon finished his drink. “I hope staying with you won’t cause you any problems. I don’t want to get in the way.”

Simon gave me one of those wonderful soft smiles that I was becoming addicted to. “Not a chance. The lads have accused me of becoming a hermit, and it will be nice to have some company about the place.”

“You don’t go out much?” Okay, yes, I was fishing. I hardly knew Simon, and I wanted to know more—that more being, did he have someone special in his life?

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