Page 7 of Stevie
“You mess this hair up, Dawson, and it will be the end of this… thing we have going on.” Brooks feigns a hurt expression as he clasps his hands over his heart before walking over and wrapping his arms around me. I force myself not to enjoy the warmth and safety his embrace fills me with like it always does.
“Baby, you wound me. How could you call the magic that is us a ‘thing’?” I roll my eyes and shove his chest. He doesn’t move. Why would he? Brooks is massive, six feet, seven inches tall, with a body of powerful muscle. For most, he’s very intimidating to look at, but I find him to be a teddy bear, which only makes this arrangement more difficult.
“There is zero magic between us. We’re friends. You have a nice cock, and you know how to use it. Plus, you’re unbothered by my condition. Don’t make this into something it’s not.” This is the same conversation we’ve had several times after he and I have had to ‘let off some steam.’ Brooks and I are friends, sort of. We text a lot, and he hangs around Hel’s and acts as the security guard there. Which I still think is weird, considering there are four or five massive, tattooed men working there at any given time. He and I hang out a little outside of the shop, but it’s not often. I don’t want a relationship, and I know he does. As much as I don’t like to admit it, I would like to as well. But a hook-up, now and then, is all I have to offer him. I can’t allow another man to have control over me. Letting someone in, allowing them to hold my heart; no one deserves that kind of power.
“One day,” he chuckles before kissing the top of my head, “You’re going to realize you like me. And I will give you the biggest fucking I told you so.”
“Wow…” I smirk. “Well, I definitely ain’t feeling it right now.” I squeal as Brooks pulls me to him and backs me against a wall. His green eyes fall to my lips and… I can’t do this. “I don’t have time for another round,” I say, trying to make this not as awkward. I watch the conflict in his eyes, but he nods and backs away as I walk through my tiny, messy studio apartment. I live above my Baka and Mama’s donut shop. It’s supposed to be temporary. I plan on finding a more permanent place now that I’m making good money as the piercer at Hel’s. It’s just hard for me to leave a place I feel safe in. But my surgery is coming up soon, and the steep staircase leading to the apartment is going to be a lot to handle while healing. I’m both nervous and excited. Maybe even a little in shock still. It took my friend Ren pulling some strings about a month ago, but a surgeon finally agreed with me and scheduled the hysterectomy. I can’t wait to have it and no longer have this be the focal point of my life.
Grabbing my backpack and phone, I head towards the door. “You going to be able to lock up?” I ask, turning back toward the man. He chuckles while crossing his powerful arms over his broad chest.
“Between the two of us, who is the one that actually locks anything?” Okay, he has me there.
“Just don’t get caught by Baka again. Explaining to her that I needed you to reach something I couldn’t–”
“You’re the one that came up with that excuse!” he laughs. “I work in security! You could’ve literally said you thought you heard something and wanted me to check it out. Or… I don’t know, you were having a friend over?”
“Oh, well, don’t you have all the answers. Besides, I don’t have male friends over.”
“What am I then?”
“Currently? A pain in my ass.” I blow out a raspberry with my tongue before walking out my door and down the steps that lead to the entryway. You can either go around the stairs and end up at the door for the kitchen, or if you go out the exterior door, you’re in the parking lot.
I make it three steps away from the building when I hear her.
“Stefa!” My baka calls out. Turning, I see the grey-haired woman slowly hobbling over to me on a…Oh, for the love of god.
“Baka!” I call out in annoyance as I walk back to the insane old woman. “Who did you steal this cane from?” I watch as the woman feigns insult as she clutches her chest.
“Stefa! I no steal cane! It trophy for victory.”
Raising my brow, I cross my arms over my chest. “Victory?” I repeat and instantly regret opening my mouth. Baka’s eyes go distant, and she dramatically moves her hand through the air.
“There I was in my village, the year, 1945–”
“So you were about five in this story.” Her blue eyes narrow as she points the cane tip at me. “I just want to make sure before you continue.”
“PoštovanjeStefa!” She yells as I drop my head into my hand.
“Baka, Idorespect you! I just don’t have time to listen to this story.” Baka huffs as she turns away, no longer needing said cane to support her.
“We see how you feel when I die. The tears you cry, wanting one more story, Stefa. You wait.” Rolling my eyes, I turn back and hop in my car, heading to Hel’s Ink.
* * *
Atlas, one of the tattoo artists, sighs dramatically as I set my stuff behind the counter.
“I’m not mad, Stevie, just devastated. Nika promised me those cinnamon crunch bagels.” I give him a blank stare before shrugging.
“You know where the cafe is. March your little butt over there and get them.”
He scoffs, “Little? Stevie, these are full-fledged cakes. Don’t even pretend like I don’t have the biggest cake– Hey! Virginia!” Atlas, with his goofy grin, calls for Derek, another one of the artists at Hel’s. Derek is the shop grump. He’s a man of few words, most of which are moody, but he has a big heart.
“I have an appointment. What?” Derek asks, popping his head into the piercing area.
Atlas turns around and lifts his shirt, popping out his ass at Derek. “I still have the best ass, right? Like these are tasty cakes.”Why does he keep calling them cakes?Without missing a beat, Derek looks at Atlas’ ass, then back at his face.
“I mean, you did, but I think you’re kind of flattening out since Howard. Dad life is making you flabby.” Derek walks away, and I try to hide my laugh as Atlas stands in the middle of the waiting area, stunned and insulted.
