Page 1 of Holden
CHAPTER 1
Holden
Holden Walker enjoyed almosteverything about his life. He had a studio apartment in Hollywood he’d been locked into for almost ten years, he knew how to cook more than spaghetti and stir fry, and most importantly of all, he was single. He also scored the gig of a lifetime working at Ink and Ember, a small tattoo shop on the outskirts of a residential neighborhood in Silverlake.
All in all, it was a good life, if not a sometimes lonely one. But if he ever found himself wanting for conversation or company, the only thing he had to do was go into the shop. The tattooer who worked in the booth right beside him, Merrick Shannon, hadn’t stopped talking since the day he was born and had no problem carrying a conversation for the both of them.
At first, it had made Holden feel like he was losing his mind. The constant chatter had him on edge, and he’d come home many days in the first months of his employment wondering if he’d made a mistake. He’d gone to bed knowing he hadn’t, that working for Riggs Ember was a great gig, and as far as coworkers went, he could have done worse. Merrick might have talked a lot,but he was polite and he kept his space clean,andhe was a great tattooer.
That was what Holden kept reminding himself as he cleaned and bandaged his second-to-last client for the day, the incessant rattle of Merrick’s voice an ever-present hum in the back of his mind.
“Leave it on overnight if you can. At least until bedtime,” Holden told his client, tearing off the last bit of tape and pressing it onto her skin. “Then it’s unscented antibacterial soap and nothing else. Simple white lotion after two days whenever it gets dry or tight or itchy.”
The buzz of Merrick’s tattoo machine died down and his voice filtered over to Holden’s booth.
“I don’t get why you haven’t switched to Saniderm,” Merrick said.
Holden clenched his jaw. “It’s not how I was taught.”
“Not how I was taught either.”
“Plastic wrap has worked fine for years.” He held his tattooed arm out as proof. “I think it will keep working for a few more.”
“I’m allergic to it anyway,” Holden’s client, Ashley, piped up. “So this is good.”
Holden scratched the tip of his nose, hoping his hand obscured enough of his face to hide his smile. He wasn’t trying to be smug about being right, but he did appreciate having his methods validated. He finished up with Ashley, thanked her for the generous tip, then returned to his station to get cleaned up.
Merrick had started chittering away again, such an unrelenting flow of words Holden didn’t hear the bells on the door jingle to alert them a new customer arrived. It wasn’t until said customer knocked on the counter with tattooed knuckles that Holden looked up. Merrick cut his machine at the same time, a frustratingly bright smile splitting his face when he saw the customer.
“Bryce.” Merrick snapped off his gloves and glanced at his client. “I’ll be right back. My brother just got here.”
When Merrick made it around the counter, the family resemblance was impossible to miss. Merrick and Bryce were practically the same height, just on the right side of six foot, same build, slender without being scrawny, strong without being overtly muscular. They both had the same shade of dark hair, though Bryce’s was styled in a taper cut, compared to Merrick’s floppy brown waves that looked like they would have been more in place in the late nineties than any other time. The only real difference was Bryce looked how Holden would have imagined Merrick did ten years earlier. Obviously the younger brother between the two of them, his appearance something Holden found himself all too focused on.
Holden bit his lips together between his teeth and narrowed his eyes, wondering what was wrong with him. He’d never looked at Merrick with any sort of interest at all, but his brother…that was another story entirely.
He turned his attention to wiping down his chair, ear turned toward the counter in a way that would let him eavesdrop without looking like it. His older sister would be proud of him.
“When did you get into town?” Merrick asked.
“Just now,” Bryce answered.
“I told you I’d pick you up from the airport.”
“I wanted to surprise you. Caught an earlier flight.”
“Well, I’m surprised,” Merrick said, glancing over his shoulder at his client, the massive thigh tattoo still hours away from being finished. “But I’m also stuck here for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re fine,” Bryce assured Merrick. “I just wanted to come by and say hello. I can take a car back to your place and we can get together for dinner just like we planned.”
“I don’t want you to have to pay for another ride.”
“I really don’t mind,” Bryce said. “But I am starving. Is there anywhere around here I can grab a bite to eat? Can I maybe leave my bag?”
“Yes to both,” Merrick answered, his stare finally shifting far enough across the room to land on me. “Holden.”
Holden looked at him, brow raised.
“When’s your next client?” he asked.
