Page 3 of Inked Soul

Embarrassment slams into me. Aside from the crib, all his stuff is still packed up in boxes. I just haven’t had it in me to fully unpack in the month we have been living here. This man, this stranger, is witnessing my greatest weakness right this moment.

“Sorry about the mess,” I mumble, my cheeks flaming hot.

“No worries. Moving sucks,” he says, laying Tyler down and covering his tiny body with a light blue blanket.

We both watch him sleep for a moment before we head out of the room. The man walks toward the front door, shaking his head the entire way.

“My name is Luke,” he says once he is standing on the threshold, holding his hand out for me to shake. “I live next door.”

Nodding, I take his large hand in mine. “Abigail.”

“Nice meeting you.” He smiles again before striding to his apartment and disappearing inside.

Closing and locking the door, I slide down the wooden surface. Sitting on the ugly, brown, industrial carpet I stare into my apartment, and sadness hits me in the chest. I finally understand why Luke was shaking his head as he walked through. Unpacked boxes line the walls, stacks upon stacks of items I fully intended to pack away but never got to.

My life and my apartment are a stunning mess—something I definitely need to get under control. And I will definitely start working on that in the morning. But first, I need to sleep.

Chapter Two

Just A Little DIY

Luke

I got the first night of good sleep this month after leaving Abigail and her boy next door. Sipping at my coffee at the kitchen counter, I think of her and the way she broke last night. She truly is overwhelmed. I don’t know why her son fell asleep the moment I cradled him against my chest, but I am grateful he did. Both of us were in serious need of sleep.

I want to head next door and help her with everything that has been piling up in her life. I think of my own mother and can only imagine how hard it must have been raising me and my sister on her own, and we were both in school when our dad died.

I don’t know where Tyler’s dad is, but I do know he hasn’t been helping her, that much is clear. I wonder if the asshole from the other day is his father. But if that’s the case, he would be here helping Abigail. I don’t know what to do with my feelings but I do know I can’t just go stomping into her life and rearranging shit any way it pleases me, even if my OCD is driving me up the walls. We don’t know each other for shit. Besides, I need to get down to House of Ink, the tattoo parlor I own with my two best friends. I have an early appointment.

Instead of going next door, like I want to, I hop through the shower before jumping in my truck and heading off to work.

The hours pass in a blur. The tattoo gun in my hand buzzes, stripping my thoughts away and just letting me be in the moment. My art flows from somewhere deep in my soul and the piece is finished sooner than I thought it would be.

“When is my next appointment?” I ask my sister, Skye, after my client has paid up and left.

“You are wide open,” she says with a smile. “Actually, with how picky you are, you are set to have a long weekend.”

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