Page 6 of Inked Nights

He’d left the hotel soon after Olivia, making sure he picked up all their things. She hadn’t even left a single earring behind when she’d run like the hounds of hell were on her tail. He’d checked out of the room, ignoring the knowing look from the overnight clerk that he hadn’t met before. Then, he’d gone home and tossed and turned all night, thinking of what he could have done differently.

He liked O, Olivia, wanted to know more about her. He liked their relationship, or whatever it was they had. He liked knowing that once a month he’d go to the hotel where he first met her, and they’d have each other for those few short hours. She was not only the best sex he’d ever had, but he also liked her smile, her laugh, and the way her eyes danced when they flirted.

And while part of him had always wanted to know more about her, he also liked the safe distance they kept between the two of them. Their deal had been the longest relationship he’d ever had. The fact that he hadn’t had another person in his life over the last four years might have been because of her, or it might have been because of his own issues. He had enough on his plate without adding someone with strings and commitments who would need to rely on him for things he couldn’t give.

And yet he’d been able to commit in his own weird way when it came to Olivia.

He’d shown up every month for four goddamn years, and she’d always been there. It had been the healthiest, longest commitment he’d ever made, and yet it hadn’t actually been a commitment at all.

And then she’d just walked away because she was done.

He couldn’t help but blame himself. He must have done something, said something. Maybe telling her his name had made it all too real. Maybe she’d needed the fantasy more than he had. He didn’t know, but now, all he could do was hope to hell that she showed up next month.

He had a feeling that these next four weeks would be hell on his nerves.

“Hell.” He let his fist fly one last time before hitting the showers. He usually worked out after work so his hands weren’t sore, but he’d been stressed out and needed some form of release that didn’t have anything to do with his fist wrapped around his dick.

By the time he headed into work and parked behind the shop in their tiny private lot, he was still on edge and knew his friends and coworkers weren’t going to let him get out of telling them what was on his mind.

The problem with working at Montgomery Ink was that everyone was not only great at what they did, but they were also close enough to be family. And while only two were family by blood, the rest had enough connections that they always knew when something was up with one of the others.

Derek himself had been on the offering end of that help over the years. When his friends had needed assistance in their love lives or had needed someone to talk to, he’d been there. Somehow, he’d found the right words and had been one of the steady forces in the shop.

And now he had a feeling that as soon as he walked in, he wouldn’t be able to hide his frustration or whatever else was wrong with him thanks to O.

Olivia.

Jesus, he needed to get her out of his head and only think about her in four weeks when he hoped to hell she showed up. Maybe she’d just gotten scared about knowing more about him, but neither of them had missed a night in four years, and he hoped that they wouldn’t start now despite what she’d said. Because she hadn’t given him a real reason, and maybe that meant she didn’t have one.

Maybe she’d come back.

And maybe he was an idiot and needed to get over this woman he didn’t know as well as he probably should have.

Any hope of hiding his reactions to the previous night ended as soon as he walked in and found one of his bosses leaning against the front desk, her pierced brow raised as she got a look at him.

“Why do you look like you were hung up wet and left to dry?” Maya asked as she tapped her finger on the desk.

Derek would have flipped her off, but then she’d really know something was wrong. Instead, he just gave her a slow blink and went back to his station. She snorted, and he had a feeling there was no way he’d get out of whatever conversation she wanted to have, but first, he hoped he’d at least be able to get his workstation set up.

Montgomery Ink was one of—if not the—hottest tattoo shops in Denver. Most of the artists, including him, had waiting lists over a year long. His bosses, siblings Austin and Maya, were even opening up another shop down in Colorado Springs with their cousins, who would own the building and run the place from there. Derek had no clue how talented and business-savvy the crew was until he found himself working with some of the best in the tattooing world.

There had even been talk of a reality series following the crew around, but Austin and Maya had been quick to shut that down. Their family was a large one, and they’d all been through hell over the past few years. Now, all eight siblings were either married or on their way to being hitched, and most of them had children. They just wanted to settle down and do what they loved. In fact, almost every member of Montgomery Ink, even those without the Montgomery surname, was married and planning a family.

Only Derek and Brandon were left, but he had a feeling from what had happened a couple of days ago at the shop when that stranger who didn’t seem to be a stranger to his friend had shown up, that Brandon wouldn’t be single for long.

That left Derek. The guy who had all the advice because he’d been through a lot in his life, but the one who didn’t have a wife or girlfriend of his own.

And that meant that everyone would want to help him. They’d already tried setting him up on dates or asking what his type of woman was, and he’d done his best to put a stop to that. Now, though, with his lack of sleep and genuine confusion over what had happened the night before with Olivia, he had no idea what he was going to do.

Sighing, he went to work getting ready for his first client of the day. They didn’t open for another hour, so he had time to set up and get a cup of coffee from the café next door. However, before he could even get up to go over there, Sloane, the artist next to him, who happened to be married to the café owner next door, pulled up a seat beside Derek, a hazelnut latte in his hand.

Derek’s favorite.

Hailey, Sloane’s wife, knew everyone’s drink order—their favorites or if they were in the mood for something different—without having to ask. It was spooky, and yet he loved it.

However, if Sloane was here with the drink, that meant that Maya had already told Hailey that something was up, and they were starting with the big guns—literally in Sloane’s case since the man was built like a brick shithouse.

“Thanks.”