Page 2 of Open Liner
Serena clapped me on the shoulder. “Might not be me, but you’re going to find them.”
If only.
I attempted a half-hearted smile and tossed a hand up as I turned on my heel to make my exit. The moment I left the air-conditioned embrace of Zodiac Brewery, the bright, hot July sun beat down on me. Not like it bothered me much though. I enjoyed the summertime, sweaty balls and all.
My Subaru awaited me in the parking lot, but my trip out of the restaurant left me feeling more lost than I had wandering in. Serena wasn’t wrong—our relationship had been lukewarm for a while—but I hated being alone. And the loneliness was creeping in more than ever with how often Rory was out lately.
At least I knew one place I could go.
I hopped in my car and set off down the road. Within minutes, I’d reached my destination, my mind humming.
Alchemy Ink was a safe haven for me. The familiar logo with the A for the philosopher’s stone and script in black on a white background stood out on the sign, and something in me relaxed. I stepped outof my car and ran fingers through my hair, which was getting long enough that I’d need it cut soon.
When I stepped inside, the scent of the incense Rory liked to burn tickled my nose. He was probably already in for his shift, and even though my first tattoo client wasn’t until later, I could use the time to catch up on some artwork in my stall. I specialized in watercolor tattoos, and preferred the medium as an artist as well. Even though I had a stream of alternative income from my watercolor pieces, I’d never leave tattooing. Getting to interact with people all the time scratched an itch an isolated artist’s life never would.
“What are you doing here so early?” Rory asked, sitting on the checkout counter instead of a seat. He swished his legs back and forth, a ball of constant energy. With his dark hair, tattoos, and lively blue eyes, he drew plenty of attention, but we’d always gelled as friends rather than anything more. “Thought you and Serena had a date?” Rory had been at our place when I left this morning to run errands, though I’d been far more optimistic about my date then.
“We did,” I said, plunking onto the couch stationed against the wall for clients. Our waiting room was filled with shelves of knickknacks. Weird esoteric shit that fit the theme: glass vials alongside leather-bound books with long-winded deep dives into alchemy I’d never bothered to read. “And then she dumped me.”
Rory hopped off the counter and closed the distance to sit beside me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders in a tight hug. “That blows. Can I be honest?”
“Do you have any other setting?” I challenged. I appreciated him, bluntness and all.
“I thought Serena was just one of your friends for like…two months into your relationship,” Rory said. “I didn’t even know you guys were dating.”
“Apparently she felt the same way.” I wrinkled my nose and tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling. “I should get ‘let’s be friends’ tattooed on my forehead.”
“In Minimalist lettering.” Rory snickered. “Nyx will do it. She loves script tattoos.”
A laugh escaped me. Nyx loathed script tattoos. Every artist had their preference, and her style was neo-trad or trash polka, depending on the client. “Why can’t I find what you have with Wyatt?”
“Back off, bitch. He’s mine,” Rory teased, a lightness in his eyes.
“I don’t want him.” I nudged Rory in the shoulder. I’d always been a romantic at heart, a serial monogamist, the total opposite of Rory. And it had gotten me nowhere. “I just don’t understand why, out of a row of people, I pick the one I have the least chemistry with.”
Rory shrugged. “I think you pick people you’re comfortable with. And that’s great—that should be a part of things, but if you’re not feeling like you’re driving on the edge of a cliff and could sail off at any moment, then what are you doing?”
I shook my head. “That sounds terrifying. Hard pass.”
As much as Rory went to extremes, I could see what he was saying—that I played it safe. Serena had been funny, pretty, and we had good sex. But there wasn’t… more. And I’d been craving more for a long time. Though what was wrong with wanting comfortable? Couldn’t I have that and a thrill?
“I was planning on going to Wyatt’s tonight, but I could stay home instead, if you want. We could grab some beers and watch a movie.”
My heart squeezed tight. I appreciated Rory’s offer, but he was still riding new relationship bliss. I didn’t want to take that away from him over a relationship I wasn’t even devastated over losing, just disappointed. “I’m working late tonight, so don’t worry about it. I’ve got my favorite client in anyway.”
“Is it Renegade Granny or Marine Hottie?”
Damn, coming into work had been the right call. If I’d stayed at home, I would’ve been bummed out, but being here helped lighten my mood.
“Renegade Granny,” I said. “We’re in the middle of a splashy mermaid on her arm, tits out and all.”
“God, I love her,” Rory said.
The clients were one of the things I loved most about this job. Getting to share my art with people—on their skin—was a connection I’d always craved. And Owen made sure we only worked with solid people. He wouldn’t permit shitheads to come to his business. He always had a saying that if you let one stay, suddenly the whole place stank.
“She’s the best. We’ve got plans for a whole back piece after,” I said. Thinking about what we’d discussed made me want to get out my pad and pencils to sketch the basics.
“You’ve got that look in your eye, like you’re about to vomit up some new art piece,” Rory said. “Better hustle to the back.”
