Rescued

By L.P. Maxa, Diane Benefiel, Cindy Holby and 5 more

Bleu - L.P. Maxa
Over the past few months Bleu and Maykin have become best friends. They hang out all the time, especially after Bleu punches a guy for trash-talking Maykin, and gets sentenced to community service at an animal shelter. Cuddling puppies leads to finally giving in to the attraction they've been avoiding. And becoming dog parents seals the deal. Forever.

Burnover - Diane Benefiel
After a horrible year, including getting dumped days before her wedding, Eva decides to find a forever friend at the animal shelter. Finn, a feisty doggie escape artist, runs over to Eva's new next-door neighbor, the firefighter hottie who's been flirting with her over the café counter where she works. Eva intends to avoid Diego Jones, but not for long. A firebug with an unhealthy attachment to Eva forces her to rely on Diego for more than protection. He's captured her heart, and he plans to keep her loved and safe for the rest of their lives.

Abandoned Love - Cindy Holby
5 a.m. and bakery owner Emily Redding finds herself trapped in a dumpster while trying to save a little dog and her newborn pups. Sheriff deputy, Luke Hall responds to the 911 call. A handsome but taciturn man who is new to the area, Luke slowly draws Emily in with his easy manner and winning smile. As they search for the culprit who is dumping helpless dogs all over the community, they navigate their way into each other's hearts.

Chaos - Gabi Stevens
Mystic, Wyoming is home to all things strange and magical. Summoned to use skills unique only to her, Amelia Brent returns to the small town nestled in a picturesque valley. Little does she know forces are at work that will change her life. It all starts with a dog named Chaos, his dad, famous furniture maker, Roman Innis, and powers that reveal no one is exactly who they seem to be. Which is the best thing Amelia and Roman could wish for.

Sparks - Sheri Humphreys
Tiny, but mighty, a little dog races into a burning house to save... a cat. Firefighter Brian Becker swoops up the brave dog and takes him to the emergency vet. Dr. Jennifer Magee is everything Brian wants, but with their schedules, her three special needs pets, and him with his new friend, Sparky, the odds of them getting together seems impossible. Until Brian realizes anything worth having is worth working for.

Always a Hero - Marilyn Baxter
When a hurricane threatens St. Magnus Island, deputy sheriff, Noah Tindall finds Lucy Jansen home alone. She hasn't evacuated along with all the other residents, and the reason - her foster dog is giving birth. Six pups later, Noah convinces Lucy to go to his home on higher ground. No power, a tornado warning, and cramped quarters make for intimacy neither want, but both end up craving. Forever.

Oscar - Joan Bird
Jobless, single, pregnant, Fiona Kavanagh's life is a mess. When she finds a sweet, starving puppy beside the brook where Phee had been crying her eyes out, she takes the little guy home knowing they are rescuing each other. Dr. Cabe McCain is an ass. A good vet, an unbelievably great-looking man, but an ass. Until Phee learns his past might be the reason they will have an incredibly bright future together.

Cocoa - Emily Mims
Brittany Barstow grew up with musicians. Famous musicians. She knows all about their life on the road, and what that does to relationships. So even though handsome, guitar playing, country music singer, Lonnie Jeffries, of the Jeffries, helps her save a little dog from certain death, he is not boyfriend material. Not even close. Until he proves he is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: Nov 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781948029469

L.P. Maxa

L.P. lives in Austin, Texas with her husband, daughter, three rescue dogs, and one adopted cat. The first group of chickens met with a sad and unexpected death. They have been replaced. The dwarf goats are a story for another day. And now there are ducks. Writer, business owner and office manager, L.P. says she loves to read as much as she loves to write. Reading a good book is her reward after writing one. In her spare time—ha!—she fosters puppies for a rescue organization based in Austin. Connect with L.P. – lpmaxa.wordpress.com facebook.com/pages/LP-Maxa/1442560722667127 twitter.com/lpmaxa instagram.com/lpmaxa

Book preview

BLEU

L.P. Maxa

To my husband.

Thanks for letting me fill our house and lives with rescue animals.

I’m really sorry they ate the couch.

And all our plants.

And every air compressor hose you’ve ever had.

You will always find the answer in your heart where it has been waiting since long before the questions.

—Atticus

Bleu + Maykin text messages

Bleu: Nick and Diminutive Dove are being lame asses. Wanna meet for drinks after work? Well, after I get off work. I literally have no idea what you do all day.

Maykin: One, I’m taking 12 hours and getting a show ready for a gallery in Uptown. So, suck it. Two, I have a date tonight. And three? Diminutive? Nice.

Bleu: Ew, a date? Why?

Maykin: Because occasionally I like to shock my parents by doing what they ask. It keeps them on their toes.

Bleu: So…collared shirt with khaki shorts and a frat strap around his Costas?

Maykin: Prolly.

Bleu: Ditch. Let’s get white girl wasted and make fun of people less cool.

Maykin: I can’t.

Bleu: Lame ass.

Maykin: We could meet up after? I’m not letting the future cheating CEO stick his dick in me or anything.

Bleu: I bet it’s small anyway.

Maykin: But he thinks it’s huge b/c his parents have spent the last twenty plus years blowing smoke up his ass.

Bleu: Mine is MASSIVE.

Maykin: I have no doubt.

Bleu: Are you doing sarcastic?

Maykin: Of course not.

Bleu: I still can’t tell.

Maykin: Drinks or no?

Bleu: It’s pierced too.

Maykin: Drinks offer expiring in three…

Bleu: The good kind of dick piercing, not the boring kind.

Maykin: Two…

Bleu: Why don’t you want to get pounded by my giant pierced dick!?

Maykin: One…

Bleu: Fine. Drinks, no pounding.

Maykin: See you tonight :)

Maykin: Hey loser, how you feelin’?

Bleu: Like I got run over by a train. Where are you? I woke up and you were gone. I thought maybe we could bang like bunnies before breakfast.

Maykin: Did you tho?

Bleu: No :(

Maykin: I’ve told ya killer, I like you too much to fuck you.

Bleu: Same. I’ve gotta get some ass though dude. It’s been waaaaaaay tooooo loooong.

Maykin: What happened to that little blonde that was drooling over you on the dance floor Kevin Bacon?

Bleu: Footloose is a spectacular old film, I refuse to be embarrassed. And idk, somewhere between licking salt off your neck for that tequila shot and making Evie reenact that final dance scene with me, the blonde peaced out.

Maykin: Well her loss. I mean fuck, you’ve got the good kind of dick piercing, not the boring kind.

Bleu: I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Maykin: I came back to my place to shower your apartment funk off my body. You want to meet for brunch?

Bleu: My apartment doesn’t smell. And hells yes, I’m starving. I puked. So my tummy is empty.

Maykin: I know. I was there.

Bleu: Come back here and help me get dressed. It’s hard to move my arms.

Maykin: You need a nanny.

Bleu: I REALLY DO.

Maykin: Maybe we can pay a prostitute to fuck you AND take care of you?

Bleu: I’m so fucking down. Let’s discuss over brunch. But for real, come back and help me.

Maykin: Fine but brunch is on you and I’m NOT holding your giant pierced dick while you take a piss.

Bleu: You’re my favorite person in the whole world.

Maykin: I better be.

Maykin: I need you to come get me.

Bleu: Aren’t you on a date? Did something happen? Did he try to finger you under the table? I’ll break his fucking hand.

Maykin: What kind of dates do you go on, man? No. He did NOT try to finger me under the table.

Bleu: He ordered wine, didn’t he? I don’t know why you have such an issue with that. Nicky drinks wine, he’s manly.

Maykin: He did order wine. But that’s not why I need a rescue. He’s just…boring? And like super into himself. He’s irritating me. I can’t deal. I’m too sober. Plus I’m pms-ing real fucking hard.

Bleu: Well that’s what you get for going out with rich douche canoes that pop their collars and press their pants.

Maykin: Save me the lecture. Be a pal. Do me a solid.

Bleu: Oh I’ll do you solid baby girl, don’t you worry.

Maykin: Why does every conversation we have come back to your dick?

Bleu: Because it’s awesome and deserves to be spoken about often.

Maykin: Please come get me. He hasn’t even stopped talking about himself long enough to realize I’m not listening.

Bleu: Have you ordered yet?

Maykin: Drinks and an appetizer.

Bleu: Order us dinner to go.

Maykin: What?! Don’t you think that would be a little obvious? Oh hey Tanner, I’m not feeling well, I have a ride coming to get me in the middle of our date. But first! I’m going to order enough food for two people.

Bleu: Since when do you give two shits about other people’s feelings?

Maykin: Uh since his parents are my dad’s colleagues? And if they find out I ditched for another dude, they’ll ask me a trillion fucking annoying questions.

Bleu: Fine. But we’re getting food on the way home. AND you’re buying.

Maykin: Deal. Now come get me. Plllleeeeease.

Bleu: Don’t beg.

Maykin: Why? Because it’s beneath me?

Bleu: No. Because it makes my spectacular dick hard AF.

Maykin: The look on my face right now is nothing short of withering.

Chapter One

Bleu

I washed my hands and then wiped them on one of the black towels hanging by the sink. Today had been a long-ass day of tattooing. But hours of listening to the buzz of my gun was better than hours spent doing about anything else. Except maybe fucking. Hours of fucking would have also been a fantastic way to spend my day.

You done? I walked out of my station and toward the front desk of Revival Ink. Nicky, my best friend and the owner, was standing at the counter looking over the schedule for the next week. We needed to hire more people, and fast. Revival Ink had three main artists: Nicky, myself, and our other buddy, Hawkins. Since all of Evie’s uncles had come into the shop a couple weeks ago to get inked by Nick, we were busier than ever. A couple insta-stories from the Devil’s Share crew and we were famous as fuck.

The uncles were trying to do Nick a solid since they all worshipped him for saving Evie from her pill addiction and her rapist ex-boyfriend. But in reality, they’d kind of screwed us.

Yeah, finished about ten minutes ago. He closed out and shut the monitor off. I’m fucking beat, man. This week has been crazy.

Anyone reply to our ads? We’d posted a few places, saying we were hiring and listing specifications a mile long. Apparently, when you were the best, you got to be picky as hell.

Nick nodded, grabbing his keys from under the counter. Few people, I have interviews set up for next week.

It was Saturday, almost midnight, and we weren’t open tomorrow. Which meant I was more than ready to go get fucked the hell up and then promptly pass the hell out. Where are the girls?

Nicky’s girlfriend Evie and her best friend Maykin were really the only females I’d been spending time with lately. After the attack on Evie, we all kind of hunkered down. We closed ranks and did everything we could to make sure she felt comfortable.

Evie was great, and Maykin had quickly become one of my favorite people on the damn planet. She was feisty and flirty, and gorgeous as hell. And funny. Man, could that little redhead make me laugh. Usually it was at my expense, but I didn’t mind. She had a witty, sarcastic sense of humor and I enjoyed the fuck out of her.

They’re waiting for us at the Truck Yard. Nicky tossed me my jacket from the hook by the front door.

The Truck Yard? I hate the fucking Truck Yard, man.

He shrugged, locking the door after I closed it. Sorry, bro, your girl chose it.

"She’s not my girl. Maykin was no doubt the coolest chick I’d ever met. We were friends. We talked all the time and hung out constantly. But she certainly wasn’t mine. And she has awful taste in bars."

Neither she nor I wanted to ruin the vibe we had going by hooking up. I mean, sure, my dick would have jumped at a chance to be with Mayk. He gave a little twitch every time she walked into the damn room. But my brain knew it would be a terrible idea. I wasn’t really a commitment type of guy, and she certainly wasn’t that kind of girl. Why mess up a great thing with something that was doomed to fail?

Maykin has terrible taste in a lot of things. Nicky climbed into his badass vintage Scout, reaching over the seat to unlock the passenger door for me. We had to double date with her last week. The dude she brought was pre-med, but he wanted to go into plastic surgery. The asshat was pointing around the room, telling us the things he would ‘augment’ on the people eating at other tables.

I snorted, shaking my head. Was that a guy she picked out? Or another douche canoe her parents set her up with?

Does it matter? I still had to suffer through a two-hour meal with the guy. Nicky pulled away from the curb, driving the short distance to the Truck Yard. We could have easily walked, but it was November in Dallas and cold as balls once the sun disappeared.

Maykin had overbearing, rich-as-fuck parents. They wanted to see their baby girl settle down, so they were constantly setting her up with their friends’ sons. Maykin rarely made it through a whole date. Most of the time, she was texting me during appetizers asking for a rescue. I didn’t mind helping her out. My mom tried to set me up all the time too. But at least her heart was in the right place. She wanted to see me happy and in love. And she wanted grandkids like yesterday.

But Maykin’s parents had a different motivation, in my opinion at least. It seemed to me like they were trying to tame her. Mayk was a free spirit, a wild child. She was an artist and she was ballsy as hell. She spoke her mind and then shot you a wink afterward. Her parents set her up with wealthy, boring clones of themselves. They were going to graduate and become doctors, lawyers, senators—carbon copies of their fathers, and their fathers before them. They had no personality, no spunk. They’d never, in reality, be able to handle someone as spectacular as Maykin Miles.

Earth to fucking Bleu?

I was jerked out of my thoughts by Nicky’s loud voice and the solid punch he sent into my arm. Huh? Sorry, it’s been a long week.

We’re here. Nicky climbed out, waiting for me at the entrance to the Truck Yard.

I could hear live music still going strong, and the buzz of conversation. The girls had chosen an outdoor venue, which made no fucking sense. It was cold, and there were only so many propane heaters to go around. I should have brought an extra jacket because Maykin would inevitably steal mine within minutes.

There they are. Nicky pointed to our immediate right, up on a small raised platform.

Evie and Maykin were huddled under a blazing heater, their hands held up to the coils, trying to gather as much warmth as possible. I stifled a sigh and made my way through the packed crowd.

It’s cold outside, I told her the obvious.

Maykin sent me a smirk. I wanted to hear some live music, and Evie wanted Philly cheesesteak.

Music and food. Those were the two reasons that we were all going to be freezing our asses off for the next hour. I picked up Maykin’s half-eaten sandwich and took a big bite, talking with my mouth full. We have a waitress? I need a shot. Fireball, to help heat my blood.

"It’s not that cold. Stop being such a baby. Maykin rolled her eyes and stood on her tiptoes, searching the open venue. I’ll get you your damn shot."

Our waitress, a cute brunette with ink on her arms and small gauges in her ears, bounced over to the table. She reminded me of a tiny emo bunny.

Maykin pointed at me. I need a shot of fireball for my delicate friend here. She sent our waitress a playful frown. It’s a little too cold out here for him.

The waitress looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Great. Maykin cockblocked me right from the gate. Anything else?

Nicky spoke up and ordered us a couple beers and another round for the girls while I glared at Maykin. Which didn’t faze her in the least.

Oh, cheer up, buttercup. Maykin batted her eyelashes at me. She wasn’t going to go home with you anyway.

And why not? I crossed my arms over my chest, mostly to help keep all my warmth from escaping.

Because I am. She sent me a tight smile. I need a place to crash.

I loved the shit out of Mayk, I did. But I’d have also loved to take the cute waitress home and let her bunny hop all over my dick.

You have two houses, why do you need to stay with me and ruin my good time? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten my dick sucked? Do you, Maykin? I was talking a smidge too loud, and drawing attention from the next table over. Luckily, it was a table full of dudes and they seemed to sympathize, if their sad nods were any indication.

My studio is overrun with work for that gallery show I’m doing and there is a party at the sorority house that I bailed on. She wrapped her arm around mine and laid her pretty red head on my shoulder. Please, Bleu? Please?

Stay with Nicky and petite parrot over there. I gestured to my best friend and his girl. My imaginative take on her nickname caused her to flip me the bird. Ha. Get it? Nicky’s little bird flipped me the bird.

Ew, no. Maykin stood up straight, untangling herself from me and visibly shivering. Last time I did that I heard things that I can never un-hear.

Sorry.

Not sorry. Nicky cut Evie off. It’s our house, we don’t need to apologize for having great sex in our own home. He wrapped his arms around his girl, nuzzling her neck. Speaking of which, you ready to leave?

Evie swatted his wandering hands away. We just ordered another round.

So?

She ignored him and addressed her friend. Mayk, you are always welcome to stay with us.

Nicky wrinkled his nose and shook his head at her.

Thank you. She sent Nicky a pointed, victorious smile. But I’ll pass. She clasped her hands together, sticking out her plump lower lip. Because Bleu is going to let me crash at his place, right?

In all seriousness, I enjoyed having Maykin stay with me. We spooned and stayed up watching old movies. She always went on a coffee run as soon as her eyes popped open, and more often than not she’d bring home breakfast as well. And she smelled good, like really fucking good. My apartment was pretty much saturated with whatever perfume Maykin wore. She was like my own personal Glade Plug-In.

Fine. I rubbed my knuckles on the top of her head. What’s one more night of not having my dick touched? I cocked my head to the side. Unless, of course, you’d want…

I don’t want. Maykin shoved me away from her playfully. Keep your giant pierced dick away from me.

And that was the moment our waitress walked back up, precariously balancing a tray of drinks in her hand. She stopped short at Maykin’s words, blushing red and fumbling a bit. Nicky reached out and grabbed the tray, quickly unloading our drinks on the table before they were sent crashing to the floor.

Thanks. The waitress smiled, taking her tray back. Anything else I can get you? Her eyes kept darting to me, like she was trying to determine if what she’d heard was true.

We’re good, thank you, Evie spoke kindly, sparing the pretty girl any further embarrassment.

She left and I turned to glare at Maykin. You’re like the best wingman and the worst cockblock all rolled up into one fiery package. I shook my head. Unbelievable.

Maykin winced. Maybe she’ll tell all her friends. And the next time you come in here you’ll have your pick of Truck Yard waitresses. And then, you’ll thank me when you meet your soul mate. And I’ll give a toast at your wedding, because I’ll be your best man, of course.

"What? I would be his best man." Nicky clinked the neck of his beer bottle to mine.

Not if you weren’t the one who introduced him to the love of his life. Maykin handed me my shot of fireball.

I’m not looking to get married. I tossed back my shot, and then took a sip of my beer, not because I was a pussy that needed a chaser. I’m just looking to get my dick wet. I was speaking too loudly again. But the guys at the next table sent me a silent cheers.

Chapter Two

Maykin

I didn’t like the guy currently yapping across from me. He’d walked up to our table right after Bleu had announced to the whole bar that he wanted to get his dick wet. Which had been fucking hilarious. Thad, that was yappy guy’s name, was a family friend. That’s what my parents would call him anyway. I’d call him a yuppie prick who cared more about himself than anything else on this damn planet.

He was gross, and unimaginative, and he always had been. His aftershave was too strong and he was wearing slacks. Everything about him was a turnoff. But me not giving him the time of day would certainly reflect poorly on my family.

My parents wouldn’t punish me, not that they could if they tried. But they’d bring it up, passively showing their disapproval. And that would be irritating as fuck. So. I smiled and nodded, feigning mild interest in whatever mundane thing this guy was going on and on about. I think he was talking about his new boat. He either said boat or coat, and since it was winter, it could really be either.

Evie and Nick were in their own little world, canoodling and giggling about something. Those two couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Often times I told them to get a room because they were making me nauseous, but in reality, I was over the moon happy for my best friend. Nicky had wanted to leave thirty minutes ago but had stuck around when Thad had sauntered up to the table, overly joyful to bump into me.

Now Bleu, on the other hand, he appeared murderous. Which wasn’t really all that abnormal. He had an adorable baby face, and when he smiled, he looked like he could be crowned homecoming king at any moment. But when he wasn’t smiling? He looked like a death-row inmate. Albeit a hot-as-fuck death-row inmate.

Bleu was covered in tattoos. They crept up his neck and onto the backs of his hands. Eventually he was going to run out of skin to ink. He kept his hair pretty short, but every once in a while, like today, he let the scruff on his face take over a bit. His light blue eyes sparkled in contrast to his inky black lashes, and that was something I would never admit out loud. Ever.

I liked Bleu, he was one of my favorite people in the world. He was funny and easygoing, he liked to have a good time, and he was kind. Over the past few months of Evie, my best friend, dating Nicky, his best friend, Bleu and I had grown close. We spent a lot of time together. He’d given me my first tattoo, a vintage carousel horse. And, subsequently, my second and third. Bleu was hella talented. I’d been begging him to try his hand with a paintbrush and canvas, but he hadn’t budged yet. He said the gun was his paintbrush. I made fun of him, but the truth was I thought his words were poetic and endearing.

Why, you ask, do I keep all my good thoughts about Bleu to myself? The answer to that is twofold. One, his ego does not need any help. And two, if I said them out loud I was afraid things would go from flirty, funny, and harmless to serious. And I hated serious. Serious led to commitment and talks about feelings and directions. No thanks, ain’t nobody gonna hold me down.

So what do you say?

Bleu nudged me with his elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts and drawing my attention to the fact that Thad’s question was directed at me. I’d almost forgotten that he was still here. Oh, um, I’m sorry, what was that?

Would you like to come to my family’s lake house this weekend? In Possum Kingdom? I have the house to myself, everyone else is running from the cold to the Caribbean. Thad’s smile was incredibly too suggestive.

If the poor bloke would have looked hopeful, I’d have searched for a more delicate way to brush him off. Maybe told him I already had plans, but thanks for the invite. I wasn’t heartless, no matter what some of my sorority sisters said. But the guy standing in front of me appeared cocky and, like, slimy. Plus, telling me we’d be alone? Creeper much?

He deserved what was coming to him, any girl would agree. I grinned, my face not matching the words about to spill from my lips. Oh, no. Not even a little bit. That actually sounds terrible. I picked up my vodka and soda, taking a small sip, and sent him a shrug. Real fucking terrible, Thad.

He chuckled lightly. Is that a joke? Are you trying to be funny? He chuckled again, like him laughing at it would will it to be my attempt at humor.

I shook my head slowly. No. No, Thad, I am not joking. I sat my drink down and leaned forward. You have been talking about yourself and your possessions for the last five min—

Ten. It’s been ten minutes, Midge. You spaced out for most of them.

Right, thank you. I nodded at Bleu before turning my attention back to the problem at hand. "You’ve spent the past ten minutes talking about yourself. You didn’t bother to meet my friends, you didn’t inquire as to my health. I tsked. You are a narcissist with rotten people skills. Not to mention the fact that you are boring and smell like you walked through the Dillard’s cologne department sampling each one."

Thad stared at me, and I stared right back. I could see the indignation in his dull brown eyes. He wasn’t going to take that lying down. His preppy nice guy act hadn’t worked, so he’d quickly tossed it to the side. You stupid bitch.

And there they were, Thad’s true colors.

I opened my mouth to hurl a way more inventive insult his way, but my boy Bleu beat me to it. Now, wait a minute there, guy. He pointed at me. Was what she said bitchy? Yes it was. I dropped my mouth open in mock outrage. But it was spot-on accurate and you have no right to call her names. I took another sip of my cocktail, feigning indifference. I think it’s time you head back to your own table, but thanks for stopping by and asking my friend if she wanted to come bang you at your super-cool lake house.

"She is a fucking bitch. Thad pointed at me, scoffing. And get to know your friends? Please. He rolled his poopy brown eyes before gesturing to Bleu and Nicky. You two are tattooed losers and that other one is an ex speed whore, fucking—"

And that’s the moment Thad went down in a blaze of glory. Or, more accurately, one punch to the face from Bleu.

The dude crumpled, like jelly legs and lights out. I bit my lips together to keep from smiling too big. Damn, son, that was a hell of a punch.

Nicky came around the table and stood over Thad. "That was a nice hit. He put his hands on his hips. It’s a good thing Bleu knocked him out, I was two seconds away from ripping his windpipe through the back of his neck."

That was graphic. Not that I could blame him though. No one should ever be allowed to talk about Evie that way. I was a bitch, and Nicky and Bleu were covered in tattoos. But Evie was not an ex speed whore. She was a recovering addict, and stressors like Thad were not to be tolerated.

Hey, Midge?

I secretly smiled at the nickname Bleu had given me when we’d first met. Midge, Barbie’s redhead friend. It was fitting and I liked it, although I’d never admit that to him. Yeah?

Before those frat straps over there make their way to our table, you want to mention what Thad’s parents do for a living? Bleu cocked his head to the side, studying the starting-to- come-around guy on the ground. How much trouble we talking here? Indignant doctor? Senator that wants to keep it quiet?

I pursed my lips, a tiny sense of dread creeping up my spine. Angry lawyer with a bad golf game.

Fucking perfect.

Chapter Three

Bleu

It was two o’clock in the morning and I was at the local police station. This was a somewhat regular occurrence when I was a young hooligan. But lately? Like the last seven years, I’d really had my shit together. So sitting at the booking desk after a bar fight was kind of pissing me off.

That guy, Thad, had said some real shithead things. And I hit him, which he fully deserved. Most men, who had any pride whatsoever, would have picked themselves up (once they regained consciousness) and left with their tail tucked between their legs and their ego bruised as bad as their face. But not Thad. No, not Thad. After his equally-as-douchy friends revived him, he called the cops. And his daddy. No joke.

Bleu, man, I can’t get you out of this.

My arresting officer was actually a friend of mine and Nicky’s. We’d met him a few years back, I’d done a huge piece on his back to honor his…wait for it…dog. I’d been inking him ever since. Miller, this is bullshit. The guy needed to be put in his place. He called Evie—

Something he shouldn’t have. Nicky crossed his arms over his chest, finishing my sentence with barely veiled rage. Can’t you help us out here? If Bleu hadn’t punched him, I would have. And I can promise you I wouldn’t have stopped after one hit.

Miller sighed, rubbing his forehead like we were giving him a headache. What do you want me to do? Walk up to his lawyer father and say, hey, we let the dude go because he was the lesser of two evils and your son deserved his ass kicking? He rolled his eyes, his fingers resumed clicking away on the keyboard.

Booking my ass.

Bro, I held you while you cried. I pointed at the cop, the handcuffs on my wrist jingling a little. You wept in my arms for five minutes before I could even ink that dog’s ugly mug on your hairy back. You owe me. I was angry, and I was lashing out. I instantly felt bad about it when Miller’s eyes welled up with tears. Dammit. It wasn’t Miller’s fault that I punched a guy. I was an adult, and I believed in owning my actions. Including, but not limited to, the real fucking stupid ones.

I shook my head sadly. I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Fredrick wasn’t ugly, he was adorable. The old English bulldog was kind of cute, in an odd way. But the dude’s back was incredibly hairy.

Miller nodded, letting me know he forgave me but was still too choked up at the memory of his dog (that passed away three years ago) to speak.

I know they’re demanding his arrest and that they want to press charges, but is there anything you can do to help? Nicky sank down in the chair next to mine, his head in his hands. Anything at all, man.

The cop stopped typing again and leaned back in his chair, giving us his full attention. I’ll get you in the system, and then I’ll immediately start your bail paperwork. I can try to talk to the judge, try to sweeten things for you. He shrugged. You’re probably looking at probation, and maybe some anger management courses. But you’re going to have to spend the night in here, there’s nothing I can do about that.

Fucking fantastic. I was exhausted, and I’d been ready to fall face first on my mattress the second I’d finished my last client. Now, because of my excellent right hook, I was going to be up all night listening to the drunk tank chorus.

Thanks, man, any help at all would be great. I didn’t want this one stupid punch to follow me around for the next five years, but I certainly didn’t regret knocking the guy out. Nicky, head home, bro, I’ll be fine here.

No, I’ll stay until they take you back. It’s partly my fault that you’re even sitting here.

No. It’s not your fault at all. I love Evie too, I won’t let anyone talk about her like that. I kicked up a smile, trying to lighten the mood and make him feel okay about leaving me at the station. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Maykin’s. She had to run her smart little mouth. I sighed. Go home, check on our girls.

Our girls?

I wrinkled my nose at my slip. Your girl and her troublemaker pain-in-the-ass best friend.

Thankfully Nicky left after that, promising to be back first thing in the morning to get me out. Booking took another hour, and by the time I was tucked into my cell it was almost four o’clock. I let out a deep breath and sat on my cot, leaning against the white cinder block wall. I rarely let my temper get the better of me. I was a pretty laid-back guy. But what Thad said about Evie was uncalled for. She’d had a pill problem, and she’d dated a fucking asshole who’d attacked and almost raped her. He was currently in jail, serving way less time than he deserved. And Evie had spent the last five months working on her sobriety, on her pill detox and her therapy. She’d come a long way and she was doing real fucking well. Having her past thrown in her face like that had to sting.

Maykin? Well, Maykin was acting bitchy. That girl was kind and pleasing, until she wasn’t. It was like she could only put forth so much patience at a time. Once that little dam broke? Look the fuck out. She probably would have told him off sooner if she hadn’t completely spaced and stopped listening.

I lay down on my back, staring at the dingy white ceiling. At least Miller had given me my own cell, and I was as far away from the drunk tank as possible. I didn’t believe in regretting your actions; I was more of the mindset that you needed to own them. Learn from them. And I’d learned something tonight for sure, Maykin was trouble with a capital T.

Chapter Four

Maykin

I felt fucking terrible. Awful, even. I mean Thad deserved that punch to the face for what he’d said about Evie. But it was my smart mouth that started it all. I should have brushed him off with a lame excuse and said my good-byes. That’s what most girls I knew would do. Turn a blind eye to the insinuation in his voice, pretend I wasn’t completely disgusted by his personality. Not me though, I had to go and put him in his place. It was like a compulsion or something. I couldn’t not say something bitchy to him.

And because of that, Bleu had been arrested and he’d spent the rest of the night in jail. I hadn’t been able to sleep, so I’d spent the last four hours cleaning his apartment top to bottom and doing his giant mound of laundry. Domestic chores weren’t my strong suit; I’d literally had to do an Internet search on how to start the dishwasher. But I’d done it all out of love and guilt. He shouldn’t have had to pay for the shit I started. I should learn to throw a good punch, and then the next time something like that happens, I’ll be the one spending the night in jail.

I jumped to my feet when I heard the door open, clasping my hands behind my back. You’re home.

He winced at my loudly spoken words, his palm going to his forehead. Stop shouting, weirdo, I have a headache from hell. He went directly into his kitchen, opening the cabinet where he kept the ibuprofen. I was familiar with the medicine cabinet because I typically woke up with a hangover when I stayed here. We liked to have a good time.

I poured him a glass of orange juice, handing it over with trepidation. I wasn’t sure how pissed he was at me, and I found that I didn’t like the thought of Bleu being anything less than happy or exasperated in my presence. He was pretty much the only other person in my life, besides Evie, who I cared about. Like, actually cared a lot about.

Where did this come from? My fridge was empty except for ketchup. He took his pills, swallowing all of the juice to wash them down.

I ordered groceries this morning.

You ordered me guilt groceries? Bleu moved past me and made his way into his bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head. He tossed it in the direction of the hamper that stayed outside the bathroom door, but missed. Where are all my clothes?

I washed them. I smiled tightly. And I cleaned your apartment and signed you up for this beer of the month club online. The last gesture had been a peace offering for both him and Nicky because I knew they’d share.

Mayk. Bleu shook his head, his hands on his trim hips. You didn’t have to do all this.

I couldn’t help but stare at his body. It was inked and ripped and really pretty spectacular. Bleu was a catch, and one day some lucky bitch was going to notice. And then where would I be? Bored out of my mind, and lonely to boot.

I ran my mouth, Evie got hurt, and you went to jail. I threw my arms wide. I needed to do this, and so much more. I stepped into his body, wrapping my arms around his middle, enjoying the feel of his skin way more than I had any right to. I’m so sorry.

"You did run your mouth. He hugged me back and rested his chin on the top of head. And you are a pain in the fucking ass. He sighed, dropping his hands and turning for the bathroom. But that dude needed to be put in his place, and I’m a big boy. I hit him, that was my choice, no one else’s."

The shower came on, the sound filling the otherwise empty apartment. I’m still sorry.

I know. He unbuttoned his pants and I spun around, giving him some privacy while he undressed. He had no shame in his game, and he’d have stripped down whether I was gawking or not.

I’d seen Bleu’s dick before…well, I’d seen the head before. We’d been drunk and I’d been curious about the apadravya piercing he was always rambling about. It looked interesting to say the least. Part of me wanted to try it out, see what all the hype was about. I’d done some research on it, and it sounded like a hella good time. But that was a line we couldn’t cross; there would be nothing but conflict and confusion on the other side. I was terrible at relationships and Bleu was one person I wasn’t okay with losing.

You sticking around?

I sat on the toilet lid once he stepped under the spray and closed the curtain. Unless you want to kick me out. I totally deserved it, but I was suddenly exhausted from my cleaning rampage. I wanted to crawl into bed with Bleu and sleep until dinner.

After a few minutes, the water shut off and I held his towel up, closing my eyes tightly as he stepped out. You can stay.

Thank you. I stood, averting my gaze from his nakedness, and went to Bleu’s dresser. I pulled out my favorite sleep clothes, a pair of striped white and navy boxer briefs and a faded Revival Ink t-shirt.

We partied together a lot, and at the end of a long night, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with my sorority sisters or drive all the way across town to my studio. That was why I stayed with Bleu all the time. That was my story, and I was going to fucking stick to it like glue.

I get to be small spoon though and I get to control the remote for the next decade.

I snorted. What dude ever wants to be small spoon?

When I’m big spoon, my dick is always poking you in the ass. He shrugged, sliding on basketball shorts under his towel before tossing it back toward the bathroom. It makes me feel bad.

His dick did spend a lot of time poking me in the ass. Was it odd that the only one of us who minded was Bleu? I nodded, hand held out in front of me. I agree to your terms.

He snorted, taking my hand and dragging me onto the bed. Like you had a choice? He switched off the lamp on his nightstand