I laughed at the thought. Virgin-taker sounded so…medieval, but that basically summed up what I was looking for. He didn’t have to be older like Mr. Parker or Greg. He just had to be the right guy. My thoughts immediately went to Jake. Yeah, I finally found the guy who I wanted to give my virginity to.
I’d have no issues having my first time with Jake. I remembered how effortlessly he replaced my tire. He was strong and very good with his hands. He’d probably be able to carry and throw me onto his bed with one hand. I had no doubt he knew exactly what to do. A guy that gorgeous couldn’t have been single all these years. I hoped he knew his way around a woman’s body because that would make for an excellent first time.
What was even better was what my father would think of me hooking up with the black sheep, tattoo covered rebel like Jake.
Since our fathers worked closely together, mine never failed to talk about that “rebel kid.” He never said Jake’s name. He always ranted about how ungrateful Jake was to turn his back on his family. His parents, just like mine, had paid for everything. They’d put him in the best schools, groomed him for success he’d have no problem achieving. My father had even been ready to give him a position in his company as one of the heads of the legal department.
“He just walked away from everything, from an easy life of power, wealth, and success…to what?” My father had said on numerous occasions. Back then, his words never really bothered me because I only remembered Jake as another face from the funeral, nothing more. But now, they stung because I was in a similar position. I wanted to carve out my own path, one very different from what my father had been preparing for me my whole life. If he’d been so harsh with Jake, I wondered how he’d be with me, his own daughter. I had a feeling our lunch argument was only the beginning.
I forced myself to get up. I’d holed myself up in my room too long already that the thoughts in my head were making me grumpier. I needed to get out, and immediately I knew where to go. Who I needed to see. Hell, I’d spent all morning thinking about him.
An hour later, I found myself standing in front of his tattoo parlor, R.
R—the name of his business. It was catchy, yet its simplicity put the spotlight on where it was rightfully supposed to be—the artwork. I gathered enough courage to suck it up and go inside. What if he didn’t want to see me? What if he thought of me as a little kid? Or worse, a princess? I thought of calling and making an appointment to get a tattoo, and I didn’t even know if I wanted one. Now that I was here, being inspired by the artwork on display, I was certain I wanted some ink, and I knew specifically the design I wanted.
“Hey, good morning! Do you have an appointment?” the lady at the reception asked. She wore a white tank top that showed off the tattoos on her left arm and down over the back of her hand. “I’m Anna, by the way.”
“Becca,” I shared as I looked around the big room. “I’m just a drop in, if that’s okay?”
Honestly, the space was far from what I expected, and a little part of me felt ashamed at my own judgmental self. The place was sleek, modern, and upscale. The walls were in a dark gray palette with the ceiling in stark white. Ambient yellow lighting set the mood with white-light lamps strategically positioned right above the chairs and tables where people got tattooed. It was clean, neat. My eyes roamed the entire place, and they finally found him.
Jake was busy talking to a client as he smeared some ointment on a fresh tattoo, then wrapped it in plastic wrap. I thought of going over to him, but I didn’t want to interrupt.
“Sure, drop ins are fine. Have you met any of the artists before?” With that, I turned my head to look at Anna. “Most of the customers want last-minute appointments after randomly meeting one of our artists, so the schedule’s quite packed. It’s great though…very effective marketing.” The two of us shared a smile at that before I nodded my head.
“Worked for me,” I agreed. “I have a design in mind, but I can’t draw to save my life. Do you think I can speak to one of the artists and have him draw what I want?”
Anna beamed. “Absolutely. Want to see our artists’ portfolios? They’re all amazing, so your choice depends on the style and aesthetic you want.”
I didn’t need to look to know what I wanted. Who I wanted. “Jake…Jake Huntington,” came my instant response. “I want him.”
“Hmm…Jake…” she trailed off, moving her head to look at her desktop computer. “Unfortunately, he’s fully booked for the rest of the week. He’s available next Thursday. Is that alright? You’ll have time to iron out the details of the design you want.”