Page 51 of Secrets

The buzz continues, and Daphne seems focused. "That's fair. And if you aren't going big, what's the point? It's like breast implants or something."

"Everything I do and have is big."

She giggles and wipes his back. "I wish I could say that. I don't even need a bra."

"But you have a great ass."

"You think?"

"As an ass man, yeah, I'm fucking positive. Tits are great, but you want something to grip onto when you're getting in deep."

The words just come out, and he isn't sure if it's because all of his blood currently flows to his other head, but he doesn’t regret it. Especially when she sighs.

"I never thought a guy would like a big ass more than a big chest. But maybe I have hope of someone actually finding me attractive."

"What does that mean?"

"Nelson always wanted me to fix the things he didn't love. Like wanting me to get a boob job. I wanted one, too, but when your boyfriend pressures you to do it, it stops being for you, you know?"

His brother tried to convince Daphne to get implants? "Fuck him," Max says. "You're fucking hot, and you don't need any plastic or silicone or whatever it is that goes in added to your body."

"You really think so?"

"I'd fuck you," he says, and he hopes she suggests he prove it.

"Down, boy," she says and continues to work on his tattoo, shutting down his hopes.

**SECTION BREAK**

When Daphne finishes the session, Max looks in the mirror before she wraps it. "It doesn't look like much now, but as we go along, it'll come together. I promise."

"I trust you, Daph."

She wraps him in plastic, gives him the speech he could recite from memory with the number of tattoos he's gotten, and he pulls out his wallet to pay. A chubby man with no visible tattoos walks into the shop from the office, getting everyone's attention by clapping his hands.

"Okay, everyone, time to pony up. Shop fees. Come on, now."

The other artists groan and pull money from their pockets, placing it in his hand. Daphne sneers and takes almost half the money Max gave her for his session and hands it to him, not being able to hide how much she charged.

"This is robbery, Nick. You know that, right?"

So, this is Nick. The man's eyes run over Max's back. "Another shit tattoo, Daphne? Man, I hate to say it, but you should demand a refund. A full one. That looks terrible."

"It's the first stage of a cover-up, Nick. It's not going to look perfect right off the bat, especially with how large it is. You'd know that if you were an artist."

"If that's your excuse. You're only here because I can't fire you, but I can promise, you'll be gone long before I figure out how to change that arrangement. You're a hack. A pathetic excuse of a tattoo artist, just like your daddy was."

"Coming from a dude with no tattoos? What the fuck do you know about artists, Nick?" Max asks. "And let me guess, if I demand a full refund, that shop fee stays with you and comes out of her pocket?"

Nick smirks. "I know what looks good and what doesn't. And the business dealings have nothing to do with you, so don't hurt yourself thinking about it too hard."

"Doubtful," Max says. "This ends now, asshole."

"What does?"

"The shop fees and the shit talking. Daphne did a damn good job, and I doubt you could make a solid line that doesn't look like a toddler with a crayon. Give these people their money back."

Laughing, Nick shakes his head and walks away. "Never gonna happen."

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