Bella’s eyes flew to the rear-view mirror. “What kind of question is that?”
“Well, seeing as you’re the youngest and Sarah was thirty-one and Steph was twenty-eight, you can’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. I really just want to know how someone gets this many tattoos in such a short amount of time?”
Bella actually laughed. She knew it was probably rude, but she couldn’t help herself. Rhett smiled back at her, and damn. She was momentarily blinded by that dazzling smile and those pearly whites and had to tear her eyes back to the road before she got them both killed and ruined a perfectly good rental car.
“I actually started when I was sixteen.” She took another turn like she knew where she was going, not driving around aimlessly, just putting miles between them and that huge old church.
“Really? They let someone that young get tattooed? I can’t see your parents signing for it.”
“Ha, no, they never would have. My mom was so pissed when she found out. I started on places that they wouldn’t be able to see. My arms and legs. Kept them covered up all the time. I- I had a friend who had an older brother who was an artist. He was just an apprentice, but he was really good. He needed someone to practice on before he took real clients, so I was kind of his guinea pig.”
“Seriously? You let someone tattoo you who didn’t know what they were doing?”
“Hell, no. He knew what he was doing. He was an amazing artist. He’s one of the best in the city now. He always did good work. He didn’t tattoo me for free. I had to pay, but like, a quarter of the price. I had a job working as a waitress at this pizza diner, so it worked out. I could pay for it.”
“And your parents really didn’t know about it?”
“Nope. Not for years. I finally let my mom see it when I had my grad dress on. By then, I almost had two full sleeves. I just left the bottom parts undone. She just about fainted. She was so mad. She refused to go to my grad ceremony as punishment. Not that she really wanted to go anyway. I did everything she didn’t want. Bought my dress second hand. It was vintage. Did my own hair and makeup. Refused to let her take me to some stupid spa to get a stupid ass manicure for it. I was smart, but I didn’t try very hard in school. I actually had to upgrade to get into college. I mostly did that just to piss my parents off too. Got just above passing grades. I actively had to try to not be good at it.”
Rhett scoffed. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. It seems like…” he trailed off and Bella grinned though she knew he couldn’t see her face.
“What? That the whole black sheep thing might be on both sides? You fucking bet it is.”
“You swear too.”
“Fucking rights I fucking swear,” Bella laughed. “I started mostly to drive my parents and sisters nuts, but it kind of became a habit.”
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“Oh. That. Well, I have a degree in English, which is kind of useless job wise, unless one day I can miraculously land a job in a communications department somewhere, but that’s so… corporate. It would make my family way too proud of me.” Bella sensed Rhett’s smile from the back seat, and she couldn’t stop hers either. It hadn’t been a long time since she smiled. She had a dry sense of humor that usually cracked her co-workers or clients up every single day, and she laughed right along with them. It had just been a long time since a guy made her smile. Or, rather, a guy who she was actually interested in.
Not that I’m interested. Definitely not interested in being someone’s rebound. Or anything where Rhett is concerned. Nope. Not going there. Never. Ever. Going. There.
It had just been too long. She’d sworn off guys for the time being, after a string of shitty relationships left her exhausted in the dating arena. She was done with getting back on the shitty horse after getting bucked off so many times. Maybe if someone actually gave her a good bucking, she wouldn’t have so many problems trying to get motivated to wade through the shit sandwich to find the one.
Not that the one existed.
Fairy tales were for the stories she loved so much. She was an English major for a reason. Sentimental, romantic bullshit was for people who believed in spending money on expensive jewelry, buying cards, flowers, gifts and eating out on Valentine’s day.
Not for practical people like her.
“So, you work at a bar?” Rhett guessed.
“Nope. A tattoo place actually. I do reception and all that. Take bookings, help out clients, clean up. I made sure mom and dad knew without a doubt about it. The perks of the job are good. Discount tattoos by good artists who get me in without the long waitlist.”