Page 2 of Chasing Ink
She chuckles, a broken, sad sound.“That’s how I know you’re not in love with me.If you were, my brother’s reaction wouldn’t matter.”
She turns and walks away from me and my heart breaks.
I love Skye Baxter.I’ve loved her since we were kids.But I can’t do anything about it.She deserves more, better than me.I’m eight years older than her and her brother’s best friend.I’m a fucking tattoo artist with nothing but a house, truck, and dog to my name for god’s sake.
So instead of going after her, instead of telling her the truth, I watch her walk away.And for the first time since I laid my eyes on her all those years ago, I think she may really be done with me.
****
Fucking destinationweddings.Yes, Tahiti is nice this time of year, but I want to be home, not on this fucking island for the next damn week.I want to go to work where I can bleed my frustration out in my art.Instead, I’m sitting alone in my bungalow, drinking an overpriced beer and trying to figure out how the hell I let everything fall to shit.
Someone knocks on my door and I stare at the wood.
“I know you’re awake.”
Skye.Fuck me.She shouldn’t be here.I’ve had quite a lot to drink since we fought and I’m not sure I have it in me to push her away anymore.
“Please Ali, I just want to talk.”
Her voice cracks on the last word and I stride over to the door and pull it open.She doesn’t give me a moment to say anything before she slips inside, her shoes in her hand and her black curls a riotous mess down her back.
I close the door softly, leaning back against the wood even though I know I shouldn’t.I shouldn’t be alone in a confined space with her when I’m sober, much less when I’m halfway to tanked.
“What do you want, Skye?”I ask gruffly.“Didn’t you say it all earlier?”
It’s only when she lifts the bottle of tequila to her lips that I realize she has been drinking.She turns to face me, tears swimming in green eyes.She looks so lost that I just want to wrap her in my arms and hold her.
“I don’t know what I want,” she says softly.“I just know that I can’t lose you.I didn’t mean what I said earlier.I’ve had a few drinks and I was just angry that I got stood up.Please don’t be angry at me.”
The moment the first tear tracks down her cheek, I’ve lost the battle.I sweep her up into my arms, depositing her near-empty tequila bottle on the low coffee table before I fall into the couch beside it.I wrap her in my arms and hold her tight as she cries and I know I will do anything and everything in my power to get her to stop.
“I’m not angry, baby doll,” I say gently, rubbing circles on her back.
“You should be.I was so mean.”
I chuckle.“I have thicker skin than you know.”
She tilts her head back to look at me and I swear my heart stops.How am I supposed to stay strong when she looks at me like that?Her gaze traces my features, looking for God knows what.She takes a deep breath and then her lips are on mine.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
I don’t push her away, telling myself I will just let it last for a moment, something I can savor when I am alone at night.But the moment she swings her leg over my lap and straddles me I know I’m fucked.
I should stop this, but I don’t.No, like the fucking idiot I am, I soak in every moment and pray that tomorrow we can go back to normal.Her lips on mine are firm but soft and I can’t help but deepen the kiss.My hand tangles in her hair and she opens her lips and allows my tongue access.She tastes like tequila and sin and I want to consume her.
She rubs her pussy against my obscene erection and I stop dead in my tracks.This is Luke’s little sister.I can’t fucking do this.No matter how drunk we are.
Slowly, I shift her off my lap until she sits beside me.Leaning forward, I rest me elbow on my knees and rest my head on my palms.I wish my hair was longer so I had something to pull at.
“I shouldn’t have let that happen,” I say softly.
“Why not?”she whispers in return.“I thought we were both enjoying it.”
“You’re drunk....”
