Old Ink (Get Ink'd Book 3) - Ali Lyda

Prologue

Channing

The smell of the grill was in the air. Dane was trying something new with a huge pork shoulder, and whatever he'd done, it smelled incredible. But even as I lounged in a chair and watched him flirt with my brother, Chris, I couldn't fully immerse myself in the celebratory spirit. My friends were all there, each practically hopping with palpable excitement over leaving for college soon. All of the crew members of Get Ink'd milled around, too, beers in hands and wide smiles on their faces.
W

ell, all except one - and he was the reason I was brooding when I should be having the time of my life.
Reagan.
I'd spent every night since my graduation party a couple months ago thinking about the feel of his lips on mine. The way his body had felt so large and strong and made for me to be pressed into. I'd worked for Get Ink'd for almost a year, learning every in and out and nuance of the business and the staff, and I'd been so fucking certain Reagan was every bit as attracted to me as I was to him.
I'd thought that we could have something now that I was eighteen and done with school.
But I'd thought wrong. When we'd been busted by my brother and Dane, Reagan had pushed me off like I was a gnat buzzing in his ear instead of a man exposing his heart. The rejection didn't just sting - it fucking wrecked me, and that should have helped me get over him. Instead, it had made my desire for him deepen while weighing me down with bitterness.
So I appreciated the balloons and the well wishes sending me off to college, the gifts to make my dorm room feel homier, and the sheer amount of people I now had in my life who were true friends, who only wanted the best for me. I never expected to go to college. Or to have a family like I do now. And I appreciated it all. I really did. But that didn't stop me from agonizing over the one piece that was missing.
"You are brooding, my brother, and that I cannot abide." Dane pointed his tongs at me in a mock-menacing manner. "Turn that frown upside down or I will embarrass you in front of everyone you know."
I rolled my eyes but got out of the chair I'd been slumped in. "You're always embarrassing me, Dane. Like, every moment of every day."
He laughed and winked. "What can I say? Some of us are born with a surplus of talent. But really, why so blue, Panda Bear? You are a-"
I waved him off. "I am not a buffet of manliness. Get out of here, you crazy man."
Christian joined us, a wry smile in place. "Dane, leave poor Channing alone. He's about to venture forth in the world, sowing his seed and making his mark-"
I felt the heat creeping up even as I choked down laughter. "Both of you are the worst. You know that, right? The absolute worst."
They laughed, they kissed, I gagged-and suddenly, I felt a hell of a lot better. I wanted that kind of love for myself, but I also wanted to try and figure out who I was supposed to be. In a year's time, I'd gone from a teenage fuck-up destined for prison to attending college with Christian's financial support and dreams of becoming a social worker. There was so much I hadn't experienced because I'd been too busy living on the streets and taking care of myself. And there were plenty of experiences from that life I was ready to forget and move past.
College would do that for me. Even though I'd hoped to have college and Reagan, at least I still had this.
So I pushed Reagan back to a small corner of my mind and went to hang out with my friends. I listened while they talked with animated hands and exuberant joy about future roommates and majors, the parties they were looking forward to and the classes they'd signed up for. It felt good to be a part of something so normal, especially knowing that it hadn't been guaranteed. I'd earned it.
Dane whooped across the yard, and I saw he was doing some kind of dance he called "the egg beater." Chris was shaking his head and hiding his face.
Okay, so I'd earned it with some help. Even if no one would believe that my older brother and his crazy-ass fiancé were capable of it.
Twilight approached quicker than I'd expected. Mateo and Javi gave me huge hugs and slipped me some cash that I tried to refuse-for emergencies, they said. It made my heart glow. Gordo shook my hand and wished me luck while lamenting that I wouldn't be around to babysit Giuliana anymore.
That made my chest squeeze, because I'd cared for Giuliana at least once a week over the summer and, damn, that little girl was amazing. I was completely fucking smitten with her, especially now that she was starting to say words and truly becoming her own little person. My favorite phrase? "Up, Unkah Channy!"
I'd miss her.
Bryce and Trinity also said goodbye, growling that no one helped in the shop as much as I had and they were going to miss me cleaning their stations for them. But they also beamed at me when they thought I wasn't looking, and there was no missing the pride that shone from their gazes.
My friends left with promises to text, calling out last minute hangouts before we left. I knew how they felt-we were stoked, eager for the next part of our lives to start, and more than a little scared to say goodbye to this chapter in our lives.
Everyone had left, and I was helping Chris clean up the back when I heard Dane shout Reagan's name in greeting. I almost stumbled on a bottle left in the grass, and my heart flopped in my chest. I stood up straight, looking around too eagerly for the redheaded man who'd been a feature of every fantasy I'd had in the past year.
And there he was. The purple and pink horizon and setting sun seemed to make his hair look like flames, the strong bulk of him a silhouette that made my mouth dry and my chest ache. He was so fucking beautiful and sexy and-
God, but he was kind. He'd been kind and understanding every day I'd known him. Even when I'd acted like a petulant asshole. Even when I'd been rude to customers or employees. Reagan had been patient and kind and understanding. He'd made me feel important and worthy.
Until I'd kissed him.
He hovered from his place at the edge of the yard, as if unsure whether he could approach me, and I hated that. I hated that I'd made it weird-but even more, I hated how embarrassed I felt around him now. Like I'd gone from being a man in his eyes to a stupid kid.
"Hey," I managed, straightening my shoulders. I was not going to let myself feel that way. I knew how far I'd come since Christian had taken me in. And damn it, I did not want to regret that kiss. Because it had been a good kiss until it stopped.
Reagan stroked his beard and looked at me-why was he looking at me like that?-before stepping closer. He held a gift in one hand.
"It's been a while," he said, his voice a low, rough rumble that made my blood hot. "I, uh, I got you something."
He held out the gift.
Numb and stunned, I took it but continued to stare at him. Memorizing the creases around his eyes and laugh lines that hugged his lips. His blue eyes were so bright, even in the low light of dusk, and they were locked onto me like I was a prized painting.
"Thanks," I mumbled. I didn't know what to say. He knew how I felt, and he'd pushed me away anyway, and now he was here and looking at me like that?
Reagan nodded, as if accepting something, even though I'd said nothing. "I'm proud of you for going to school, Channing. I'm sorry I missed the party...I had to handle some personal things." My fingers gripped the gift tighter, the wrapping paper crinkling and tearing a little from the pressure. "Go to school. Live the life of a college kid. You came from someplace rough and you had to grow up too fast, so...don't let your past hang you up."
He was saying these things, all these things that were smart and true, but all I heard was: "Go to school and forget about me. Don't let me hang you up."
Reagan was asking me to forget about him, as if I could erase all of the feelings I had for him like writing on a chalkboard. I'd done so well keeping my shit together since my graduation party, but this was threatening to undo all of it.
So I swallowed hard and mustered a flippant smile. "Thanks, Boss."
His eyelids fluttered at that, and I felt a surge of pride that he looked hurt, too. Reagan nodded again, and it felt like a dismissal. "Be good, Channing," he said before turning and walking over to Dane and Chris, who'd been covertly hovering near the house.
Be good. Like I was a child. Everything about our exchange stung, and I turned back to cleaning, unwilling to let them see how affected I was. This also kept me from throwing his gift at the back of his head, instead setting it on a chair. I took my time collecting all the recycling that had been left out, and when I was putting the last of it in the bin, I realized with relief that Reagan had left.
Except, the relief was hard to hold onto. My mouth tasted sour from the conversation, and I had been left wanting, wanting, wanting.
But I grabbed the gift and took it with me inside, telling Dane and Chris thank you and good night and yes, I was fine, thanks for worrying like mother hens, and went to my room. The dorms were opening up a few days before classes, and I'd opted to leave tomorrow to move in, despite the offers from friends to hang out a bit more. It was time to move on, and Reagan's goodbye only made that more obvious.
Sinking onto the edge of my bed, I stared at my open suitcase, already packed. The walls of my room were bare, but I hadn't put much up in the year I'd been living with Chris. My life had fit into a suitcase. It had depressed me, but now...I felt a flutter in my chest. If I wasn't carrying much baggage with me to college, then maybe it left more room for growth.
It was, in so many cheesy ways, a fresh start.
Picking up Reagan's gift, I opened it slowly, trying to imagine what he'd possibly thought would be a gift that could mend the rift between us. If he'd even thought a gift could. Or cared.
Stop, Channing. Don't be the child he thinks you are.I tore off the rest of the wrapping paper.
It was a book. Bound in leather with beautiful spray-painted edges. The cover read, A Daily Book of Affirmations. I thumbed through the pages, surprised. It was a guided journal, but the affirmations felt real. Sincere, and not dopey like so many others. I swallowed, feeling something creep hot in my throat.
As I went to close the book, a letter fluttered out from the front. It was written in Reagan's elegant, artistic script. Even his handwriting was beautiful.
Channing,
No one should ever make you feel small or unwanted. You're a good man now and on your way to becoming a GREAT man. Sometimes I don't think you see how talented, how considerate, and how empathetic you are. But you are one of the strongest people I know, and one day I know you'll believe it, too. When that happens, someone special will see it. Until then, here's some affirmations so you can practice learning to see yourself the way I see you.
With deepest sincerity and humility,
Reagan
I turned the letter over and over in my hands. I folded it and unfolded it, read it again and again until my eyes were too blurred with tears to read it any more. Finally, I slipped it into the book and placed the book in my suitcase, fingertips brushing the leather once more.
I looked at his gift once more before shutting my case. I drummed my fingers against my thigh. Simply thinking about Reagan left me with a churning sour ball of shame in my gut. Because when I thought about him, I wanted, wanted, wanted so badly that it felt as if the wanting would consume me...
What was this gift supposed to be? An olive branch? A way to confuse me and make me want him even more?
Sleep came in fitful bits and pieces, my dreams haunted by red hair and strong hands and inked skin. When I woke, it wasn't with the fresh-faced enthusiasm of a freshman embarking on his first semester of school. It was someone with trepidation...and hope.
The book, I'd decided, was an olive branch. Which meant the bridge between Reagan and me wasn't burned entirely. But it was going to take effort and some good, old-fashioned growing up on my part to repair it.
"You can practice learning to see yourself the way I see you."
Readying myself, I carried my bags down to the car that Christian had gifted me at graduation. Maybe I could accept that I did need to get out and experience more of life, that I wasn't ready for something so serious. But if Reagan thought I was going to forget about him, he was a gorgeous idiot. I was going to go to school, experience life, and when I returned, I was going to leave my childish ways behind.
I was going to return a man and make damned sure Reagan knew it.