Page 57 of The Boyfriend Experience

“All I did was increase my net worth when it was done. It’s like… money makes money.”

I hold up my beer to do a cheers, and say, “No truer words have ever been said.”

She laughs, holding up hers to clink against mine. “But anyway, we’re off topic. If you’re going to get a tattoo, you need a plan before you start. Otherwise you might regret it later.”

“Right. A symbol.” I think real hard but I don’t know. “I have no symbol,” I finally admit. “I have nothing like you do. Not really. I mean, my childhood was filled with fucked-up parents, drugs and violence. Which isn’t the kind of shit you want to memorialize on your body in ink.”

“Surely there was something. What did you think about as a teenager?”

I ponder that for a little bit. Then say, “Chaos. That’s the only thing I can think of. Just… chaos.”

“O-kay,” she says. “Well, how would you describe your life now?”

I sigh. Because it’s sad that I have no symbol. “Just… making money, I guess.”

Oaklee makes a face. Scrunching up her nose in the process. Which I find adorable. “You want to be a TV star. That’s something.”

“Yeah, but no. I want the show. I want the mountain lifestyle. I want the house and the land, and maybe some horses. I want…”

“You want the peace,” she finishes.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Yeah. Life was chaos growing up and it still is, just in a different way. So I guess I just want the peace. I want to drop out, ya know? Be away from the hustle and relax.”

“And a TV show will give you that?”

I shrug. “I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like it will. Like if I could just sell all the properties I own down here I could move up into the mountains, sell houses to other people like me—people who need to drop out every now and then and can afford to do that—and I’d be happy.”

“Hmm,” she says. “Chaos. I kinda like that.”

Which makes me guffaw. “What’s to like about chaos?”

“Well, some people get handed chaos and shut down. Like your parents. I don’t know anything about them, but typically people fall into a life like that because they can’t find a way out. The chaos overtakes them. But others thrive on it. It makes them stronger. Makes them rise up. Makes them better than they were before. And you’re one of those people, Lawton. You see chaos as a challenge.”

I suddenly feel happy. It takes me a few seconds to pull that feeling into a coherent thought, but when I do, I say, “Like you. You’re chaos, Oaklee Ryan. This whole game we’re playing is chaos. But that’s what I like most about you. The challenge.”

She looks down, blushing. Her long blonde hair falls over her eyes, but I can still see them peeking up at me from behind the thin curtain. And she says, “Well then. What are we waiting for?”

We don’t finish our jackalope dogs or our pints of Bucked Up. Just stand up and walk out. Her hands gripping my upper arm like she’s my girlfriend.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - OAKLEE

We dropped our packages off with the hostess at Bronco Brews and the whole way back over to Shrike Bikes I feel guilty for bringing up the tattoo idea. I mean, if the guy wanted tattoos, he would’ve had them already.

But on the other hand, Lawton Ayers isn’t a man who’d agree to something just to go along. He’s the kind of guy who has an opinion. He’s the kind of guy who knows what he wants. So he’s not the kind of guy who’d mark his body with ink just to make a girl he hardly knows happy.

That rationale makes me feel fine about this.

But the guilt still lingers in the back of my mind.

“We don’t have to do this,” I say.

We’re already approaching the front door to Shrike and my weak attempt to talk him out of the whole idea doesn’t even make him pause. He just opens the door, stands aside, and says, “We’re doing this.”

So we go inside, make our way to the back where the tattoo shop is and stand under the neon pink sign that says Sick Girlz Ink. The buzzing sound from the machine in back fills my ears as I ding the little bell that lets the artists know someone is at the counter waiting.

Vivi Vaughn peeks her head around the corner of a wall. “Be right—hey!” she says, changing her tone mid-sentence. “Oaklee! Long time, bitch!”

Vivian Lee Vaughn. How to describe her? Pink hair done up in Fifties victory rolls. Tall, curvy, big tits, and pouty lips. She is someone you can’t help but look at. Add in her full-sleeve tattoos—all hot-pink-and-black skulls and red hearts, filled in with a healthy dose of pale-pink stars—and she’s got Tattoo magazine cover model written all over her.