Page 67 of Save Me

“Okay, maybe not all of them, but certainly a lot of them,” she corrected with a roll of her eyes. “You know what I’m saying, Ryker. Don’t be a jerk.”

“I’m not.” He tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I thought once I had the place and it was all set up that I’d feel excited about it, but…I don’t.”

“Then maybe we need to sit and talk more about that. Why don’t we go for a walk or even a drive, or perhaps just go back to your place and focus on this for a bit?” She glanced around. “I realize you haven’t personalized anything here and maybe that’s all that’s missing. You’ve picked top-of-the-line equipment and furniture, but you haven’t put your stamp on it. Could that be part of the problem?”

“Maybe. I’ve never done this before. All the places I worked out of were someone else’s and it was their stuff on the walls and all the designs were done by their team.” Sighing, Ryker took a step back and turned to slowly walk around again. “I always hated the clutter and the chaos on the walls. It was like they wanted to showcase as much as they possibly could so whoever walked in could see it all. But to me, it was overwhelming.”

“That’s the vibe I got while doing my research on the websites. There was just so much that was right there in your face that it didn’t make me want to stay and look through anything.”

Pivoting, he grinned at her. “Exactly! I want the enthusiast who’s serious about their ink, the person who wants something original. Then when I hear myself say it, I sound like a snob!” Muttering a curse, he began to pace.

Ryleigh was at his side a moment later, taking him by the hand, and leading him to the door. “This is not the environment for you to be making the decisions right now.”

“I kind of think it is,” he countered, pulling away and walking back toward the desk. “I keep avoiding coming here and I’m still no closer to figuring shit out.”

“Okay, then let me try another approach. What does your team have to say?”

She’d met Billie and her boyfriend Marc, along with a few of his close friends at the convention. “Everyone thinks I need to open the place up, that I’ll never know how I feel unless I actually do this.”

She nodded.

“They have a point, but…what if I open and hate it?”

“What if you open and love it?”

“Dammit, Ryleigh…come on. Don’t throw that logic at me,” he said with a huff of annoyance.

“You can’t have it both ways!” she said with a mirthless laugh. “I think part of the problem is that you’ve been drifting for too long and lost a bit of your…I don’t know…edge, enthusiasm, or something. Ryker, anyone who’s ever seen your work knows how crazy talented you are. Maybe this particular place isn’t going to make you millions of dollars, but it could be the first step to building something bigger the next time. If that’s the sort of thing you’re looking for.”

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

She let out a long breath and studied him. “What about your family? Have you talked to any of them? I know we haven’t really touched on that subject before—mainly because my crazy family seems to always take center stage—but is there anyone you can talk to about this?”

“Yeah, um…that,” he began nervously, scrubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I kind of come from a line of famous artists.”

“What?!”she cried. “Seriously?”

“Both my father and grandfather were very well known in the tattoo arts world,” he explained. “I simply followed in their footsteps.”

“But…how? There was no mention of them in the bio I read on you or anywhere else. How is that possible?”

“I took my mother’s last name when I started tattooing on my own. I didn’t want the comparisons.” Pausing, he knew he had to get it all out there. “I didn’t always look like this. I used to have a lot less facial hair and kept my hair much shorter.” Then he paused again and waited for her reaction.

“Wow. You changed your name and appearance to avoid being compared to two men who were hugely successful? Seems a bit drastic.” Then she gave him a small smile. “You think if I cut my hair and changed my last name that my mom would back off?”

Unable to help himself, he laughed as he walked over and pulled her back into his arms. “Okay, enough of this for right now. It’s a lot to think about.”

“But like you just said, avoiding it isn’t helping, Ryker. Maybe everyone else is willing to let you keep drifting, but I can’t. I can tell how much this is weighing on you.”

As much as he wanted to appreciate her honesty, something else hit him. “So, um…does the way I look—the hair, the tats—does that have a lot to do with why you chose me to be your fake boyfriend?”

“Ryker…” she whined. “Seriously? Stop trying to deflect. We’re talking about you.”

“Yeah, I know, but…if I looked like…well…the way I used to look, would you have gone out with me when I first asked? Would you have seen me as the kind of guy to get back at your mom with?”

She glared at him. “You know, whenever you say it like that, you make me feel stupid. I had my reasons…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I get it. Answer the question. If I were a little more clean-cut, would you have gone out with me when I first asked you?”

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