I’m losing my mind.

I pay for our lunches and head outside, hoping that I make it there before they leave. As I walk out the door and turn to where I’m parked, I hear voices. It’s Lexi and her hyper little friend. I think I’ll call her Thumper. That’s who she reminds me of. Cute, but bouncy and a bit obnoxious.

Slowly, so as to not make loud footsteps in the gravel, I creep toward my car so I can eavesdrop a little better. It sounds like they are heading over to Diamond Tattoo Studio.

What are the fucking odds? This seriously has got to be my lucky day. But this is wrong. So wrong. I don’t chase after women. They chase after me. I don’t have time for all that flowers and candy and cuddles bullshit. Besides, when you give someone your heart, it opens up the chance for you to lose a piece of it.

My appointment at Diamond isn’t for another hour. Maybe Lexi and Thumper will be gone by then.

That would probably be best for both of us.

Fast Lane _9.jpg

JOSH AND I HAVE known each other since high school. I had a crush on him for the longest time, but he never returned my feelings. Our best friends dated for years, though, so he and I have always been in each other’s lives. Over time the crush faded, and now I can just be good friends with him. It was no surprise to me when I found out a few years ago that Josh had gotten into the tattoo business. His artwork is absolutely amazing, unique and fresh. I wouldn’t want anyone else designing my tattoos.

Diamond Tattoo Studio is so clean you could eat off the floors. When you walk in the door there’s a pool table in the center of the large, open room, with five tattoo and piercing stations sectioned off along the outer walls. A few of them are painted blood red, and the others are covered in rigid stainless steel sheet metal.

The door chimes as Brea and I walk in. We’re immediately greeted by Havoc, Josh’s black pitbull, wagging her tail so fast you’d think her ass would take off like a helicopter.

I bend down and give her a pat on the head and she licks the side of my face.

“Ugh, thanks, Havoc. I’ve missed you too, I think,” I say, wiping her drool off my cheek with the back of my hand. She’s about to knock Brea over with her wild tail when Josh calls her.

“Havoc, back in your spot,” he commands. She nudges against my legs, so I give her one last pat on her head as she heads over to her bed behind the pay counter.

“Well at least she was happy to see us,” I say, punching Josh playfully in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, Lex.” He gives me a quick hug. “You know I love you, but I have back-to-back appointments today. I have to stay on schedule. Who’s going first?” he asks, while continuing to set up his station with ink caps and opening up brand new needles. I tighten my ponytail and sit down in the folding chair up against the half wall.

“I’ll go first,” Brea says, bouncing into the tattoo chair. Josh applies her stencil and has her check it out in the mirror to make sure she is happy with the placement. Once she agrees, she hops back onto the chair and Josh gets started.

We’ve been planning these best friend tattoos for months now. Brea and I have been inseparable ever since the first grade, so why not make it permanent? We’ve both always been huge fans of Toy Story, so for our tattoos Brea’s will say “To” and the infinity symbol, and mine will say “and beyond”.

I have my head down, playing around on my phone and reminiscing about my high school days with Josh and Brea, when I hear the sound of the spray bottle.

“Victim numero uno is finished. Check it out in the mirror and make sure you’re happy with it before I wrap you up, B,” Josh says, as he rips a small piece of plastic wrap out of the box and grabs the masking tape out of his drawer.

“Josh, I love it. It’s absolutely perfect!” Brea says, bouncing up and down like a little kid at Christmas and throwing her arms around Josh in a hug.

“Good, I’m glad. Let’s get this wrapped up and get your shirt back on.” Josh finishes cleaning Brea’s tattoo, and gives her the whole run down on after care and healing. He then slaps the chair twice, “Let’s go, Lex. Your turn. I know you love staring at my hot body and all, but I got shit to do,” Josh says with a wink, lifting his backwards ball cap long enough to run his hand through his slicked back hair.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still find this man attractive. Good God. But the crush I had in high school is long gone. Taking off my shirt, I straddle the chair backwards so Josh can apply the stencil. I’m glad I remembered to wear my black lace bra today. I’m sitting in a public place with my shirt off. It would be totally embarrassing if I were caught wearing one of my boring, white t-shirt bras and some hot guy walked in. Plus, I’m sure Josh would totally make fun of me.

After checking out the stencil in the mirror and giving Josh the go ahead, I slip back onto the chair. Laying my face against the back of the chair, I close my eyes and focus on the sounds of Metallica blasting through the studio speakers. My thoughts drift to Coen. Why in the hell would such a gorgeous man want anything at all to do with me? And the more confusing question, why would he want to buy me lunch?

Fast Lane _10.jpg

THE COMBINATION OF being so comfortable in this tattoo chair and the sound of the machine buzzing almost has me falling asleep. I probably could, if I trusted that Josh wouldn’t tattoo a little something extra silly while I was out. The door bells rattle and clank against the glass. I hear the footsteps of big heavy boots making their way closer. It sounds like they stop over next to the cash register, and I hear the tags on Havoc’s collar knocking together. And then, I hear a voice that sends shivers up my spine.

“Hey there, Havoc. Too comfy on your bed here to come say hello to your buddy Coen?”

Coen. He’s here. How the? What the fuck is he doing here?

My eyes spring open, and I’m on high alert.

“Hey, Josh,” he says. I hear his footsteps getting closer. I’m lying here with a half finished tattoo. It’s not like I can take off running right now.

Well, I could, I guess. But who wants an incomplete tattoo?

“Hey, Coen. What’s new, man? What are you getting today?” Josh asks him.

“Mike’s just going to do a few touch ups. Nothing major.” Coen says. Oh, good. He already had this in his plans then. He isn’t some psycho stalker that followed me here. I hope.

Suddenly, I feel his finger graze my arm ever so lightly. It sends shivers up my spine, and sets my insides on fire. Why does this man, who I’ve only just met, make me so damn crazy?

“Hi, Lexi,” I hear him say behind me. His voice vibrates straight to my core. “We meet again so soon. What are the odds?” Someone else catches his attention, and he stops. “Oh, hey Mike, there you are.” He booms in that raspy, sexy voice of his. I hear his footsteps leaving my side as he goes over to Mike’s booth.

Josh pauses tattooing briefly, squinting at me, and says, “You two know each other?”

“Uh, sort of. Not really,” I say with a shrug. “We were at the Stoplight before we came here. He offered to pay for my lunch.”

“Because you’re hot stuff, girl.” Brea exclaims.

“Shush it over there, you. I am not. You’re delusional, and Coen must be, too.”

“Lex, Coen’s not really a guy you take home to your parents. Mostly because he won’t let there be an actual relationship. He doesn’t really do the girlfriend thing.”

“Oh my God, Josh, you can’t be serious right now. I just met the guy.” I say in a loud whisper. “Nothing is going on and it never will, either. I need a break from dating for a while.”


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