Holden
After Bryce left,Holden went to work. He tried to ignore Merrick, as usual, but his co-worker made it nearly impossible. No wonder Bryce was so happy being forced into silence. It had to be a better option than trying to keep up with Merrick’s never-ending stream of chatter.
“My brother is out looking for a job today,” Merrick said at some point, which unfortunately caught Holden’s attention. He glanced up from the rose he was tattooing on the inside of someone’s wrist, but offered no verbal encouragement for Merrick to continue. Of course, he did anyway. “I think it means he wants to stay.”
“Was that not the point?”
“I hoped he’d want to stay, but I can never assume.”
Holden hummed and wiped the excess ink off his client’s arm.
“I think he’s already met someone,” Merrick went on, and Holden stared hard at the lines of the rose tattoo before dipping into some ink to finish the shading on the smallest petal.
“He didn’t come home last night.”
“Good for him.”
Merrick made a dismissive sound. “It’s not a shock. Bryce has always been…”
“A ladies’ man?” Holden supplied.
“A slut,” Merrick finished.
Holden rolled his stool back and frowned at Merrick. He wanted to call out the comment, but he couldn’t without drawing attention to himself…or to Bryce.
“I think he uses his body as a way to get attention,” Merrick went on, but Holden had already had enough.
“I don’t think this is appropriate conversation for work,” he said.
Merrick laughed, unbothered. “This is a shop.”
“Well, have the conversation with yourself then.”
He’d already said too much, and he felt the weight of Merrick’s stare on him as he set to finishing the walk-in tattoo. It didn’t take much more than five minutes to get through the last of the shading and the highlighting. He cleaned all the blood and ink residue before wrapping his client’s wrist with plastic wrap and medical tape. Merrick grumbled under his breath about Saniderm again, and Holden ignored him entirely.
After getting his client set up with aftercare instructions and taking their cash—always appreciated—he went to clean up his station, keeping his back to Merrick for as much of the process as he could manage.
Ink and Ember was a small shop, and he and Merrick were the first artists hired to work for the owner, Riggs. There was room for one other artist, but Riggs had been holding off on filling the rental, probably because he hadn’t even wanted to hire Merrick and Holden in the first place. Holden was grateful for the opportunity. The shop was close to home and Riggs was a fair boss. The only downfall of the place was Merrick and his mouth, but Merrick had brought Holden Bryce so it couldn’t really be all that bad.
He hated that he thought of Bryce as a good addition to his life. He didn’t even know the other man. They’d spent more time fucking than they’d spent talking, and maybe that had been by design. Bryce could keep up with Merrick but didn’t want to. Holden didn’t make him, so there was appeal for Bryce when he looked at him. Even if what Merrick said was true, even if Bryce had a promiscuous past, none of that mattered to Holden. He’d gotten tested, they were safe together, and they were having fun.
It was more than fun, though. Holden knew that already.
He liked the way Bryce looked with a mouthful of cock, and he liked waking up with his dick still in Bryce’s ass. Those were the kinds of things he could get used to, even if he didn’t trust them to stay. Whatever he had going on with Bryce could be a for-now thing, and that would be fine.
Even if his heart argued with him about it.
Thankfully, the rose was his last tattoo of the day and he didn’t need to sit through any more forced conversation with Merrick about his brother. Holden finished cleaning his station and checked his phone for a message from Bryce. There wasn’t one, which was somehow surprising and not. He wondered if Bryce was as spooked by their time together as he was.
Holden needed to clear his head, to make sure he wasn’t reading too much into nothing. He had a tendency to do that, at least he did when he was younger. Holden had always gone all in on things, love and art included. So after saying goodbye to Merrick and Riggs, he locked himself in his car and called the one person he knew could talk sense into him.
“Baby brother,” his sister greeted, flashing him a smile as her face filled his screen.
Hannah was the spitting image of their mother with her long dark hair and equally bright blue eyes. They were features Holden shared, even if he preferred to bleach his hair or color it differently. Hannah had their mother’s smile and nose whereHolden’s facial features were more aligned with their father, but there was no missing the family resemblance when any of them were together.
“Hey, Hannah.”
“You look distressed.” The image of his sister jostled as she set her phone down and made work of preparing to talk to him in the way she always did when she thought he needed help. “Are things not working out at the shop?”
