INKED 8: A Tattoo Shop Reverse Harem

“What’s the plan?” I ask as Carl drops a huge heavy box of drinks onto the white laminated countertop.

“The plan is to let these kids work out all the anger they’ve built up over the past week and then surprise Ryan with the cake,” Kole says. He’s looking around as though he’s lost something, then begins to open drawers, some of which aren’t level on their runners.

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

“A knife that we can cut the cake with,” he says, retrieving what looks like a meat cleaver. I’m not sure how safe it is for a kids’ boxing gym to have such a potentially deadly weapon stored so insecurely, but what do I know about training kids to fight? This is all outside of my experience.

Dex drops two bags of food next to the drinks, followed by Lex, who has a shallow open box with plates, napkins, and plastic cups, all featuring the number 16 in bold blue lettering.

I stick my head around the open door to the gym and find that it’s now filled with a rag-tag group of teens in t-shirts, shorts, and sweatpants, all crowded around Kole and leaning in to hear what he’s saying. They spread out to begin a warm-up routine, following Kole’s instruction in a way that’s almost military in its discipline. The man is a machine, his body toned and honed for this role.

“He’s good with them, isn’t he,” Noah says from behind me.

“He is,” I agree.

Kole chooses that moment to strip off his shirt and wipe his face with it, and my heart practically stops in my chest. God, his body, is stunning. There is no other word for it. Sweat-slicked skin hugs perfectly sculpted muscle, and everything is enhanced by the black ink that covers his body. I’ve never seen such a sexy man in person, only on the cover of men’s health magazines that rest above the newspapers in my local store.

I clear my throat, embarrassed to be feeling a flush rising up my cheeks, and Noah chuckles softly. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about looking at a man appreciatively,” he says. “That’s just natural.”

“I wasn’t looking appreciatively,” I blurt. “I was just thinking he must work out a lot.”

“He does,” Noah says, folding his lips as though he’s trying to stifle laughter. Ugh. He’s so annoying.

“Are you guys gonna stand there gawping at Kole, or are you going to help?” Carl says, shaking his head as he unpacks the drinks.

“Not gawping,” I say. “And if you tell me what to do, I’ll do it.”

“That’ll be music to Carl’s ears,” Noah says with a wink.

“Can you just be a grown-up for five minutes?” Niall says, punching his brother on the shoulder.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” he says. “Adulting is boring.”

“There are kids in there who take life more seriously than you,” Carl snorts. “And it’s our job to make them feel like kids for a change.”

That comment seems to chasten Noah, and he grabs a bowl from Carl and begins to empty chips into it.

We work for the next half an hour, making sandwiches and cutting up fruit, placing cakes and cookies onto platters, and heating pizzas in the old oven. We talk and laugh, finding fun in everything, and I get a chance to see the goodness in all these men who’ve willingly given up their time to help a friend and a kid in need.

When the boxing class is finished, Kole appears in the doorway, still shirtless but now with a towel draped around his shoulders. He rests a hand on the top of the doorframe, the stance stretching his gorgeous chest. He catches my eye as I look him over in all his glory, getting hot between my legs at the sight of his armpit, for fuck’s sake, and smiles.

“This all looks awesome,” he says softly. “Can I borrow the men to put some tables out?”

“Give me something manly to do,” Noah says, striding toward the door. Poor baby didn’t enjoy slicing the tops off strawberries.

Niall rolls his eyes, and Nash mumbles, “Sorry about my brother,” as they all disappear from the kitchen, and I’m left shaking my head at how much I already love spending time with my new colleagues.

They’re nothing like I expected, and I feel unkind for expecting them to be arrogant tattooed assholes.

The party doesn’t last long. It’s a school night, and most of the boys have to get home before curfew, but they tuck into the food and drink and rowdily help their friend celebrate. Kole sticks close to Ryan, always there to support him and make sure he’s having a good time. He’s like an extra-cool big brother, and the boys very obviously all love him.

“He’s good at this,” Kase says, his eyes trained in the same direction as mine.