I stood in the middle of the tattoo shop, frozen in place, while Quinn spoke to Killian, who she apparently knows because he gets all of his work done there. And then Jase spoke. He made eye contact with me and asked if I was going to get a tattoo… as if it completely escaped his mind that over ten years ago he stole my heart then destroyed it.
“Are you going to finally let me mark this flawless skin of yours?” His finger runs up my arm, and I visibly shiver at his touch. His voice, a bit deeper than it was all those years ago, but no less smooth and captivating. And then I remember how it was that same smooth voice that made me fall in love with him. Only to have him break my heart shortly after.
“Don’t touch me,” I snap, finally gaining my composure.
Giselle and Olivia ask if I’m okay, both concerned with the way I’m suddenly acting. Olivia even suggests they go somewhere else. Then Nick speaks up, introducing Olivia to Jase.
“Nice to meet you,” Jase says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” All these years, Nick and Jase have been keeping in touch? Nick has never mentioned him once.
Nick explains they played high school and college ball together.
“Did you go to school with them?” Giselle asks me.
“No, I went to public school,” I tell her, trying to get my shit together. My heart is beating quickly. It’s hard to breathe. I can’t believe I’m standing here with him right now. Is this his shop? Does he own Forbidden Ink? How ironic is it, that in the end, we ended up living in the same city?
“You met him at the party I took you to, right?” Nick asks, shaking me from my thoughts. “I forgot about that. Do you two…know each other?” His eyes volley between Jase and me. I never told Nick about Jase. When I didn’t show up to my graduation, Nick called me and I told him I needed to go. I was ready to start my new life and didn’t want to wait another second. My mom and Victoria were both upset, but eventually got over it. To this day, nobody knows why I left early.
“Yes, I did,” I admit to Nick, “but I don’t know him.” Even to my own ears I sound like a woman scorned. I need to get myself composed. I am not that woman. Jase did me a favor that night. I should be thanking him. He reminded me that love is nothing more than a wasted emotion. Because of his indiscretion, I got off the plane in New York a hundred times more motivated to make something for myself. I would never become my mother: a brokenhearted woman pining over a man who clearly never loved her the way she loved him. I’m stronger and wiser because of Jase.
Quinn sneers. “Oh, that’s rich! What’s wrong? Is my brother not worthy of your memories? Did you block out everything that happened before you ran your stuck-up ass to New York? What are you even doing slumming it in East Village? It’s a far ride from the Upper East Side.”
“You know what”—I step into Quinn’s face. She has no idea what really happened—“I don’t need to take this shit from you. I didn’t know you guys worked here, and if I had, trust me, I never would’ve come.”
“Well, now you do know. And FYI, my brothers don’t just work here… they own the place. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Quinn says before turning her back on me. I consider outing her brother. Telling her he’s the reason I ran to New York, but I don’t. For one, admitting he cheated on me will open up a can of worms that I’m not prepared to deal with. And two, I don’t owe anybody an explanation.
As I’m about to leave, Jax appears, introducing himself to everyone. “Celeste, it’s good to see you again,” he says, giving me a kind smile. “Although, with those billboards of you all over New York, I feel like I see you every day.” He winks playfully, and I can’t help but smile back at him.
“Great, if we’re all done with this reunion, how about we figure out who’s getting inked?” Jase says, sounding annoyed. I want to snap at the cheating asshole. Because fuck him!
“I want the nice guy,” Giselle says, pointing to Jax. “It’s my birthday. Livi, you can take the cranky one.” Everyone laughs, and Jase cracks a small smile. One that makes the butterflies in my belly flutter. Damn him for giving me butterflies. He’s a cheater, I remind my heart and head.
“I might be the crankier one, but I’m still the better artist. Ain’t that right, Dimples?” He looks my way, and I shoot daggers at him. How dare he use the nickname he gave me. He lost his right to use that name when he chose to fuck another woman.