Ocean (Damage Control 5)
Page 6
She pats my arm. “I do.”
Yeah right. Grinning, I pick up a metallic fuchsia polish.
I like Jesse. Aside from how handsome he is, he is sweet, and he’s my hero for putting that smile on Amber’s face and that confidence in her eyes. Every girl should date a man who’d put her above all others, cherish every second with her and tell her she’s the only woman in the world for him.
Why am I sighing again? It’s like a disease. Did I catch it from Ev?
I’m not pining for any man, or for love. I’m perfectly fine, trying to figure out what I want. Working toward becoming an independent artist with a circle of really cool friends. Forming a new family, one that understands me.
So why do I have this feeling something big is missing from the picture? I think of Ev and her talk of marriage and children, and my chest constricts.
And then Ocean’s face flashes through my mind, which is really random. He’s handsome, sure, we’ve covered that topic. But being pretty isn’t a factor in the equation.
In fact, there is no such equation at all. I’ve seen how much my parents’ marriage sucks. Two people stuck together day after day, tolerating each other for society’s sake, pretending to be happy.
And deep inside… Deep inside, I realize, I expect every relationship to fail. I watch breathlessly as my friends around me fall in love and move in together and make plans, and I brace myself.
For the moment when it all comes crashing down.
Chapter Two
Ocean
“Come on, cuz,” Seth’s voice is booming from the cubicle next to mine, mingling with the noise of tattoo guns and the background music of the shop. “We haven’t gone out together in ages. It’ll be fun.”
A grunt, then Shane asks, “At what time?”
“What’s the matter, stayed up all night? Girlfriend wore you out?” Seth makes kissy noises. “Oh, yeah, babe, harder. Oh, Shane—”
“Shut up, Seffers.”
But Seth is snickering like a jackass.
I shake my head as I snap on my rubber gloves and get ready for my next customer.
“Ocean had better come,” I hear Micah call from his cubicle. “We are all going. No excuses. Ocean, hear that?”
“Hear what?” I check my tattoo gun, pick a new 0.30-mm needle and install it, then use the nipple to secure it.
I love that name for the little grommet, and no, I didn’t make it up, but I always grin when I think about it.
“You’re coming tonight. Nine o’clock.”
“Yeah? Where to?”
“Halo, of course. To start with.”
“How fucking original.”
Micah sticks his ugly mug inside my cubicle and waggles his brows. “Guess who’s the mastermind behind tonight’s outing?”
“Oh gee, lemme guess.” I pretend to think as I check my inks. “You?”
“Try again.” Micah scrubs a hand through his blond hair, leaving it standing up in spikes. “It’s someone pretty. Someone you like.”
“Shit. If I organized this myself, then why can’t I remember?”
“Moron.” Micah gives me the finger and steps away. “It was Kayla, Amber’s roommate. You know, the cute one who always wants to read people’s horoscopes and stuff?”