Bonus content

Prologue
Seth

December 2019

“Fuck,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.
          He pauses. “You okay?”
          “Yeah, keep going.”
        He starts up again and I wince at the burn. It’s far from my first time but I’ve never been good with pain, and it always hurts a little. I try to focus on the faint whiffs of his cologne hitting my nose in waves, and the Blue October song streaming through the speakers, but then I wince again.
          “Almost there,” he mumbles.
      “Yeah? You’re close, baby?” I bite my bottom lip to suppress a grin.
         “Yeah, it’s ju—” The buzzing sound stops as he turns the tattoo machine off and looks at me. “Fuck you very much!” he deadpans.
          I shoot him a wink, and he cracks up.
          “Why do I put up with you?” he says, shaking his head.
       “I don’t know,” I shrug. “Maybe you should put out instead.”
      “Dude.” He throws his head back, laughing. “You’re really bringing your A-game today.”
           “You’re making it so easy, it’s not even funny,” I laugh and shift on the chair, the leather groaning under me.
          He shakes his head, dips the needle into the ink and keeps going. “You know you owe me now, right?”
          I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “And why’s that, Kadey-babe?”
          “Oh, let’s see. For coming in here on a Saturday. For making me deal with that bullshit. Again.” He throws me a look. “For spending three hours tattooing your ass when my back’s already killing me. Don’t know, man,” he shrugs slightly. “Take your pick.”
          “Okay,” I snort. “First of all, you love it here. That you even have an apartment is truly beyond me, considering how much time you spend here. And—shut up, I’m not done—and I know that for a fact because you always drag me with you, so, don’t even try.”
     “Drag you with me?” he shrieks, laughing. “Bro, I couldn’t shake you if I wanted to. You’re like a pup—you’re still like a fucking puppy. Always waggling your tail around me.”
           I scoff. “What do you mean still?
          He wipes some excess ink off with a paper towel, and smiles. “When you started here? Remember? I couldn’t get rid of you then, and I obviously can’t get rid—” I aim a kick his way, and miss by a mile as he scoots his chair back and laughs.
           “Asshole!”
          “Uno reverse,” he says, still chuckling. The piece of gum between his teeth drags my gaze there, and because it’s Kaden, I can’t tear my eyes away.
        He’s a work of art and I’m not even talking about the tattoos covering most of his pale skin. He’s all sharp angles—everything from his jawline to his nose and that cupid’s bow over his full lips.
          Black, slightly wavy hair that falls perfectly over his forehead. Muscles I can’t even name, and that make me drool if I stare at them too long.
          It also makes me want to punch myself in the face because Kaden’s my best friend, and you shouldn’t look at your best friend the way I sometimes look at Kaden.
          And if being my friend wasn’t enough, he’s also my mentor and co-worker.
        I walked into Bold Tattoo Studio for the first time four-and-a-half years ago, looking for an apprentice position. The door didn’t even shut behind me before I laid my eyes on Kaden Merrick and stopped in my tracks. I was a goner.
           The man of my dreams, in the flesh, right in front of my eyes.
           Fate’s got a twisted sense of humor.
          I don’t make friends easy—not that I wouldn’t want to, but it’s easier to keep people at arm’s length. But with Kaden, it was effortless. We just clicked, like it was meant to be.
          Which is why crushing on him is a really bad idea.
          Oh, and the fact that he’s straight. That too makes it a hell of a bad idea.
        Kaden starts back up and I wince again. Getting a tattoo on my neck might not have been the smartest decision. This one hurts like hell.
          “Secondly?” he says.
          “Huh?”
          “You said ‘first of all’, so what’s secondly?”
          “I don’t have a secondly.”
          He raises his brows, snickering. “No shit.”
          “Why do you hate me so much?”
          “Shut up,” he snorts. “I’ll fuck this up if I keep laughing.”
          “So, stop laughing.”
          “So, stop talking,” he says, shooting me a look, making me snort a laugh before I wince again.
          “Almost done,” he mumbles.
          “Had I known you were gonna be this slow, I would’ve asked—”
          “Finish that sentence, I dare you.”
          “—Diaz. I would’ve asked Diaz.”
          He stops, scoots his chair back a little and stares at me, dead on. “Take that back.”
          I suck in my cheeks, raising my brows. “Or what?”
          “You take that back and you apologize.”
          We stare at each other for a beat before I shoot him a smile.
          “Okay, I take it back. I would never trade you for Diaz, Kadey-babe.”
          “Thank—”
        “I mean, what would I even do with all the free time—ouch!” I laugh while rubbing a hand over my arm where he just punched me.
         He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If you want it quick and sloppy, be my fucking guest, go to Diaz,” he says, drenching a paper towel in green soap before he cleans up my new tattoo. “But if you want perfection, you come to me. That’s the game and you know it.”
          What I wouldn’t do to have his confidence. It’s justified too. He’s a freaking tattoo god.

“Alright, sit down,” I say, after we’re done cleaning Kaden’s station and my new tattoo’s been wrapped in plastic. He cracks his neck and rakes a hand through his hair as he walks over to the waiting area, dropping down on one of the Chesterfield couches.
          I flop down behind him, rubbing my hands together before I place them on his wide shoulders and start kneading his back and neck. He groans loudly when I hit the spot on his shoulder where he’s usually super tense. And it makes it hard to concentrate, but I’m basically used to it now.
         I’m not trained in this, but I’m a touchy-feely person, and since Kaden never takes a proper break to stretch, I once offered to give him a backrub. Which was so stupid of me because he actually accepted my offer, and liked it. And now I get to touch him from time to time, and even though touching him is something I dream about, it’s also something I shouldn’t be doing. Because I like it far too much.
          Kaden’s phone pings, and he reaches for it in his pocket.
          “Your mom?” I ask, because she usually invites him over for dinner on the weekends.
          “Tara,” he says.
          “Everything okay?”
          “Yeah, she just wanted to know when I’ll be back.”
          They don’t live together—yet. But they might as well. Whenever Kaden’s not with me, he’s with her.
          “I think we’re getting serious,” he mumbles then, and I stop dead, eyes going wide.
         “Yeah?” I say, but my usual hoarse voice sounds thick and weird. I try to swallow down the jealous beast trying to claw its way up before I plaster on a grin. “That’s awesome!” I add, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. Or for an apocalypse to hit.
           Anything to take me away from here.
           I swallow again. “I’m happy for you, man.” It’s not a lie; I am happy for him. I want what’s best for him, and if that’s Tara, then I’m good.
          Well, not good, but… I’m fine. I’ll be fine.

***

When I get home, I walk straight into my bathroom and turn the shower on. Leaving my clothes on a pile on the floor, I make sure the covering on my new tattoo is solid, then step in under the spray. I close my eyes, rest my forehead on the wall and let the water pour over me.
          I know Kaden can never be mine. I fucking know that, so why does it hurt so much? It’s not the first time he’s had a girlfriend and every time hurts. But I like Tara. I know she’s good for him and that’s what hurts the most.
            Because that can never be me.
           When I’ve spent close to half an hour in the shower, feeling sorry for myself like the pathetic piece of art I am, I sober up. I step out, fix my platinum-blond hair, put on a plain white Jacquemus tee, black, baggy Diesel jeans, and my Atlas sneakers. I take one last look in the mirror, shaking my head at what I see, before I grab my phone, my keys, the last of my dignity, and walk out.

          When I get to the club, there are people everywhere. Some remix of “Habits” by Tove Lo is blasting as I make my way around grinding, dancing, mostly half-naked bodies, and foggy gazes. The air is vibrating with the smell of sweat, sex, and cologne.
          There’s flashing lights, and the music’s so loud, I can’t hear my own thoughts.
          Which is why I come here. This is what I do. Every time.
          See, this crush I have on my best friend comes and goes in waves. It’s constant, yes, but mostly, I can control it.
          Yes, I’m super attracted to him.
          Yes, he really is everything I’ve ever wanted, but mostly, I can keep it on the downlow.
          But sometimes—when it really hits me it’ll never be me and him—it aches. And I want to numb it. I want to be numb.                And for that, I need something to make the ache go away.
          I walk over to the bar, order a drink and lean back against the counter. Looking around the club, I search for something—someone—who can help me forget. About Kaden and his green eyes, and perfect, shiny hair. About Tara. About my tragic self. About—
          “That looks tasty,” someone says in my ear. I turn around and my gaze lands on a guy with dark blond hair in a slicked-back ponytail. He’s a few inches shorter than me and his brown eyes travel down my body before a smile stretches across his face.
           I glance down at the drink in my hand. “Uh, yeah. It’s a Negroni.”
          “I wasn’t talking about the drink,” he says, winking at me.
           I snort a laugh, dropping my gaze to the floor.
        “Blushing looks good on you,” he says, moving in a little closer as he drags a finger across the hem of my tee. “Wanna dance?”
         I take a sip as I let my eyes roam over his black top, black, loose-fitted chinos and studded belt, and back to his eyes. His raises an eyebrow, waiting on my verdict maybe. And he’s cute. Not my usual type but cute. And he looks nothing like Kaden, which is the whole point of this.
          It’s always the point of this. Numbing. Forgetting.
          I shift on my feet.
          “Is this your first time here?” he says, letting his hand fall away from me.
          I shake my head. No, it’s not my first time here, and it probably won’t be my last.
       He licks the corner of his mouth, dragging his gaze all over me again before taking another step closer, lowering his voice. “Do you want to get out of here?”
          I take a deep breath, down the rest of my liquid courage before I place it on the counter and grab his hand.
          “Let’s go.”