I stare at Dylan, his bright smile directed at me with his hand on the door. “Yeah, too bad I didn’t.”
He opens the door and allows me to walk in first.
The guy behind the counter looks me up and down, raised eyebrows to why I’m standing in front of him. “Can I help you? I’m going to start my day with tattooing a fucking flower, aren’t I?”
He’s intimidating just like when I was in college. Tall, big, and tatted from neck to collar, short sleeves to wrist. His blue eyes are amazing though, and I lose myself for a second.
“Phillips?” he says, his smile growing wide and welcoming when he notices Dylan at my side. He comes around the counter and the two of them hug, each hitting the others back harder and harder until they back up from one another.
“What’s up, Big Man?” Dylan says.
I can see how the nickname fits. The guy has a few inches on Dylan and a lot of mass.
“She yours?” Big Man eyes me, his gaze once again flowing over my body like I couldn’t possibly be with Dylan.
Bingo, Big Man.
“She’s my roommate. Rian, this is Big Man,” he introduces me.
The guy puts his hand out in front of me and almost bows. “You can call me Brian.”
“Hey, Brian.”
He studies me for a second, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other, releasing his hand.
“Virgin skin, am I right?” Brian asks.
Dylan smiles at me.
“Yes,” I say, forced to answer so I’m not impolite.
“And when she wants one, I’ll be the one doing it,” Dylan says.
Big Man holds up his hands, laughing. “No worries, I get enough virgin canvas around here.”
He walks to their waiting area and sits on the couch, holding his arm out for the two of us to follow him.
“Yeah, Rian graduated from NYU,” Dylan says.
“And I never converted you then?” Big Man shakes his head like I do when I’m trying to solve the damn math problem.
“Sorry.” I shrug.
He laughs. “As long as Phillips got you, I’m cool. I just hate when virgin skin goes to some asshole who will tattoo their neck before their ankle or wrist or some shit.”
“Truth,” Dylan says.
I had no idea there were rules in tattooing.
“So what’s this visit about? Especially so bright and early.” Big Man puts his ankle on his knee, and leans back in his chair.
“I’m in need of a fresh artist.”
Big Man tilts his head. “Cliffton Heights suffering?”
Dylan briefly glances at me, but I pretend not to notice. “Nah. Never, but Mad Max moved on and I need to replace him.”
Big Man taps his Vans. “I heard a rumor that Jax is back.” His eyebrows raise in question.
Dylan inhales through his nose. “You of all people know that will never work.”
“He’s your best bet. All I got are people who can make a college kid happy. Ink Envy is different, you know that.”
“I was hoping you might know someone up and coming,” Dylan says.
Brian shakes his head. “Nah, not at the moment. Most of the people I’ve come across are just wannabes who watched a few YouTube videos and practiced on an orange, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah, I get it. Not real artists.” Disappointment rings in Dylan’s voice.
“Exactly.”
“If anyone comes to mind, send them my way, yeah?” Dylan asks, standing.
“I don’t know a lot who’d be willing to go out to the country.” Brian laughs. Dylan pretends he’s going to hit him, but they end up doing that man hug again. “But we both know people will go out there for Jax. You should do it even if it’s temporary.”
Dylan shakes it off like he doesn’t agree.
Brian turns to me. “And you’re welcome any time.” He holds his hand out to me and I shake it. “Although I do have to refuse your virgin skin. Dylan’s claimed it, I suppose.” He acts as if that’s a big loss.
I laugh and Dylan’s hand finds mine. Even Brian looks down and a shit-eating grin appears on his face. We leave the tattoo place and walk down the road toward the subway station before he releases my hand.
“Why won’t you just hire Jax?” I ask. It’s the million-dollar question because it’d surely help out his business. “You love Ink Envy. Do it for the company.”
“It’s not that easy.” He runs his hand through his dark hair.
A few college girls walk by and snicker to one another about Dylan. At least I’m not the only one who wants to climb him like a tree today.
“I just spilled all my family shit on you.”
He looks at me from the corner of his eyes. “Up for a field trip?”
“I thought we were already on one?”
We continue walking as he laughs. “Today’s destination is to visit the part of the city that fucked up Dylan Phillips. You in?”
Am I ever. “I’m in.”
He doesn’t smile—if anything, he looks nauseated—but we head to the subway, and once again, he pays for me. Which makes me get all swoony.
Come on, Rian, it’s a train fare, not a romantic dinner for two.
“Just stay close to me, okay?” His voice is hard and lacking any type of affection.
We’re in his old neighborhood. Needless to say, it’s very different from where I grew up. The concrete buildings are all decorated with graffiti, and homeless people line the sidewalk.
“So, you and Jax and Knox all grew up here?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
My heart sinks to my stomach. This wasn’t an easy place to grow up. The lack of anything green and alive pulls on my heart.
We walk by a high-rise apartment. Some guys are hanging out by the doors, and others are playing a basketball game across the street.
“That’s where Jax and I grew up.” He turns me by putting his hands on my shoulders to face a building kitty-corner to us. “That’s where Naomi Jennings lived.”
I nod though I don’t understand. “Who is Naomi Jennings?”
“The wedge that came between Jax and me.”
He signals with his head for us to walk. “Winnie, my foster mom, took me in my freshman year and Jax our junior year. I already knew Jax before then because we went to the same school, ran in the same circle. We were both foster kids and had been thrown together a few times when we were younger.”
No wonder they can still have non-verbal conversations across a table like they did last night.
“The first day Jax moved in with Winnie, I thought it would be cool to live together. I think that’s a big part of the reason Winnie agreed to take him in. Jax was labeled as a troublemaker. Technically, we both were, but Winnie got me under control, so they thought they could give her the tougher cases, I suppose.”
The farther we walk, the farther we move away from all the concrete. There’s some grass, but most of it is still recovering from the long winter.
“Jax had a giant chip on his shoulder from day one. He constantly called me momma’s boy, which pissed me off because although I loved Winnie, she wasn’t my mom. And Jax knew that all I knew about my parents was that they didn’t want me. He, on the other hand…” Dylan stops and looks at me. “Well, that’s his story to tell.”