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Max had hand selected the crew—set designer Micah, camera operator Gideon, Brooks, the director, Sterling, the host, and me—when he’d been offered the job of a lifetime running Heartland Overhaul, and it had opened doors for him, too. Once the show wrapped, he’d be running his own local queer TV station.

Me, on the other hand? I had no idea what I’d be doing. No prospects, no future jobs lined up, and here I was, leaving in the middle of the season. It made me a little nauseated just to think of it.

I headed home a few minutes later, to the place Micah and I had originally rented together. Micah effectively lived with his boyfriend, Asher, now though, which meant I spent a lot of nights either home alone or at a bar playing pool and flirting with anyone I found attractive—man or woman. I didn’t have it in me to go out tonight, though. The little fling I’d had with Jackson had burned out quickly, and trying to pick someone up sounded miserable. All I wanted was to go home, hop in the shower, and make the water as hot as possible to melt off the stresses of working with Andy.

Chapter Two

Ellis

The sound of buzzing filled the air as I worked, my hand wrapped firmly around the tattoo machine as I focused on pulling clean lines. My client, a younger woman named Celeste, was getting her first tattoo, a caricature of her dog, which had recently passed away. Celeste chattered away as I worked, and I nodded along. I didn’t mind a chatty client, and I didn’t have any issues talking while I worked, but Celeste’s type of conversation didn’t actually require my participation.

“So,” she said at some point. “When are you going to open your own shop, Ellis?”

I raised my eyebrows when I realized she was asking me a direct question. “My own shop?”

“Why not? You’re good at what you do. You have a waitlist, like, a mile long. You could probably manage it.”

She wasn’t wrong about the waitlist. I was booked solid four months in advance, with a long list of backups in case anyone canceled, and whenever I posted my availability in three- or four-month blocks, the appointments were snapped up in hours. I’d only recently moved back to Pine Bluff, the annoyingly small town I’d grown up, but my reputation had followed me and I had people coming in from all over to get tattooed by me—which I was very grateful for.

“It’s a lot of work,” I explained. “I just like tattooing. I don’t need all of the admin stuff in my life.”

She nodded as if she understood. “I get it. You just want to focus on your art.”

I grimaced at how pretentious it sounded, but that was partially true, too. What I didn’t confess was that I actually did want to open my own shop. It had been a dream of mine since I was a high school kid realizing I wanted to draw on people for a living. I didn’t have the time, the money, or the help to get it done, though.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, wiping the excess ink from her skin with a damp paper towel. I sat up straight and turned the machine off. “There we go. Check it out.”

Celeste looked down at her forearm and squealed in delight. “Oh my God, it’s perfect.”

“Go take a couple of pictures before I wrap it.” I nodded to the corner where Garrett, the person who handled our front desk, had set up a ring light by the mirror, complete with a black backdrop to take the pictures in front of. There was also a light blue backdrop, for anyone who preferred that. The photo corner, as it was called, was one of the small touches that Garrett had added when he started at Emmages.

Celeste took a half-dozen pictures in front of the backdrops before returning to my chair so I could carefully wrap her tattoo in second skin and send her on her way. As she left, she waved at me. “Think about it!” she said, beaming. “Your own shop!”

I laughed and shook my head before taking some time to clean up my station. I didn’t have any other appointments for the day and I was tired, ready to head home.

Home. That was another beast altogether. Because I’d only just returned to Pine Bluff less than six months ago, I was living with my kid sister, who apparently had her shit together way better than her obnoxious, recently-divorced big brother—me. I made my way outside to my car—an old, beat-up thing that I’d bought shortly after the divorce, a money pit that I probably should have left on the lot.

For whatever reason, between the job and the car that was always in need of repairs, I had a reputation for being a less-than-responsible adult. Whatever. I rolled my eyes as I slid into the car and made myself comfortable before heading back to my sister’s house. It didn’t take long to get home, considering how small Pine Bluff was, and soon I was pulling into the driveway of the small rancher she’d bought when she’d gotten her first well-paying job, right out grad school.

Pushing the front door open, I called out her name. “Lena? I’m home.”

“Kitchen,” she called back.

I made my way through the house to the kitchen and found my sister whisking a bowl of dark brown batter. “Whatcha making?”

She put the bowl down and nodded to the pans on the counter. “Three-layer chocolate cake with strawberry filling.”

My stomach growled as I nodded approvingly. “Sounds amazing.”

“Too bad you won’t get to taste it.”

I made a noise of protest. “Why not?”

“This one’s for a customer, not us.”

“Fine, then. Be like that,” I said with a pout. Lena had started her post-grad career in Information Security, but she loved baking on the side, and ran a small home bakery in her spare time.

“I’ll make you something this weekend, how about that?”