Carry and Drag: Open Wounds, #1

By Michelle Frost

Dagen wasn't looking for a roommate, but when Oliver moves into his second bedroom, Dagen is immediately drawn to him. Living together is an adjustment, but their attraction quickly morphs into something more. Old insecurities could drag them apart, or teach them how to carry the weight of their burdens together.

 

Each book in the Open Wounds series features one brother's journey to their personal HEA set among their family owned tattoo shop and MMA fight gym. Series is best read in order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Frost
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223445913

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I'll need you to fill these out, and I'll need your ID to make a copy for your file, Kayla Johnson, his new boss and manager at Open Wounds, said as she pushed a stack of papers at him across her desk situated in the back office of the tattoo shop. Ollie hoped he wasn't being naive, but he liked her already. She had a no-nonsense attitude that some people probably found brash and Ollie found completely refreshing. He liked it when people were who they presented themselves to be.

The office was a left turn at the bottom of the steps that led up to the apartment. Ollie was surprised at how nice it had been to simply walk downstairs to report to work. There had to be negative aspects as well, but he was tired enough not to worry about contemplating them.

Last night had been strange. First nights anywhere new were always a little uncomfortable, a little unsettled. Add the camaraderie and obvious affection of the people here and Ollie was feeling too big for his skin. The guys last night, Dagen especially, had made every effort to include him in their impromptu dinner and movie night, but he'd remained on the fringe.

He shifted in his seat, searching for a comfortable position, and looked down at the forms in his hand. This was day one. It would get better. Easier. He may never truly fit, but maybe he wouldn't always feel like such an outsider. Trying to focus, he began to write in his personal information for his employee file and stopped short at one of the questions on the form.

Um. He looked up to find Kayla focused on her computer, long black hair pushed back over one shoulder and the line of intricately woven snowflake tattoos that started on her neck and stretched down to the back of her hand illuminated by the glow of the screen. What if I don't have an emergency contact?

Green eyes turned to him, asking a question she was too professional to voice. Just make a note that we have your permission to seek emergency medical help for you if you need it.

Ok. He scribbled out a note, still feeling the weight of her gaze on him.

Oliver...

Ollie.

She smiled. Ollie, she paused, like she was taking care with her words. Be sure you update that when it changes. Ok?

He held her gaze for a moment, wanted to ask what made her think it would change. It hadn't in four years, even when it was supposed to. Even when it should have. He had no reason to think things would suddenly be different now. He nodded anyway. Yeah, ok.

Good. Can I see your ID?

He handed it over. She made a copy but paused before handing it back to him.

Looks like you've got a birthday coming up next month.

Ollie tried not to fidget. I don't celebrate that. He lifted his eyes to her green ones and held out his hand for his license, willing her to let it go. Of all the things he didn't want to talk about, that was close to the top of the list.

After a moment, Kayla nodded, handed him the card back, and finished talking him through the shop's policies. Ollie was glad to hear that they were busy, booked several months ahead, mostly with people traveling from out of state for custom pieces. They had several days a week open to walk-ins, and for the time being that would be where Ollie lived. Doing walk-ins and building up a new portfolio. He had some images of the tattoos he'd done before, but not all. Not some of his best work. He was going to be so much smarter this time.

His side bumped the chair arm, and he grit his teeth and handed back the completed forms. His leg started jiggling in place, and Kayla arched a dark brow at him.

In a hurry?

He felt himself flush. No, just anxious I guess.

Kayla nodded. Then let's get you set up. Vidar showed you which room is yours?

Ollie nodded and practically vaulted out of the chair. His side was killing him. Between the pain and lack of sleep, he knew even as he followed Kayla down the hall and into his work space that he'd be hunting the coffee pot within the hour.

Kayla looked over her shoulder at him. If Vidar didn't tell you already, one of the perks of working here is use of the gym. The only things you'd have to pay for are any of the martial arts classes or personal training if you wanted it.

But the weights and treadmills and stuff?

Totally free. You can use them anytime you'd like.

Nice. Ollie was already missing his running routine. Not being able run in the last few days had left him irritable, even if he probably couldn't run in his current state. The jostling alone would be unbearable. I'll definitely check that out.

Kayla smiled at him before logging on to his computer and having him set up his own personal settings. We use this cloud sharing site to store pictures. So, when you upload any pictures of your work, be sure to name them Ollie underscore skull tat or whatever. I try to go in every week and add new images to our online portfolios.

And we each have our own portfolio?

Yes. She held his gaze. You'll always get credit for your work here.

Ollie nodded, keeping his face neutral, but he thought he saw recognition there in her eyes, understanding, and it made him feel as stupid as it always did because, even halfway across the country, people could see what he hadn't been able to even when it was right in his face.

Straining under three hundred pounds on the bench press bar, Dagen pushed his shaky muscles to return the bar to the top on his last rep. Just before the bar settled home, Vidar’s face appeared in his line of sight and his hand gripped the middle of the bar to help guide it.

Thanks, Dagen said, sitting up and wondering when Vi had taken Rory’s place as his spotter.

How do you feel this morning? Vi asked, looking Dagen over and handing him a towel.

Good. Better if my brother had bothered to tell me I should be expecting a roommate.

Vidar’s expression didn’t even flicker with a hint of guilt. Dagen, you’re getting a roommate.

You’re hilarious. Dagen stood and shook the tremors from his arms. I’m just saying a heads up would have been nice.

Releasing a deep breath, Vidar walked with him over to the small front counter where Dagen kept his protein shaker. The gym only had one official entrance and you had to go through Open Wounds to get to it. On nice days though, they kept one or more of the old bay doors open and an unseasonably cool May breeze chilled the sweat on Dagen’s skin. When he reached the counter which served more as a catch all and place for the gym’s sound system than an actual welcome area, he grabbed his shaker and a bottle of water before turning to face his brother.

I wasn’t sure if he’d show. That’s why I didn’t say anything. And…I didn’t really think you’d mind once you got a look at him.

Dagen nearly choked. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

It means that Ollie is an excellent tattoo artist, but he was in a bad situation and needed a hand. I knew you wouldn’t object once you realized that and that there was no better place for him to be. Vidar’s face gave nothing away, but Dagen knew him well enough to see it in his eyes. He knew Dagen would be drawn to Oliver. That this crazy protective instinct that had him tossing and turning last night wondering exactly how Oliver had gotten those busted knuckles would make Dagen accept him without a moment’s pause. And damn it if he hadn’t been right.

Clearing his throat, Dagen nodded. I’ll keep an eye on him.

I know. Vidar turned for the door of the tattoo shop and paused. Just make sure you don’t neglect yourself in the process. If you’re set on competing in two weeks you can’t afford too many distractions.

Dagen had never been so antsy sitting in his own apartment. He pulled the handles of the grip strength trainer in his left hand together and wondered if Ollie would even be around tonight. It’s not like he knew his routine. Last night could have been an exception for how he liked to spend his evenings. Dagen knew that just because he was a homebody and preferred the quiet of his living room and a book or movie to a bar or club didn’t mean the same held true for everyone. For all he knew Ollie could be sitting on a barstool somewhere this very minute surrounded by other outgoing twenty somethings.

I bet someone would be trying to pick him up every five seconds.

That thought had something sour unfurling in Dagen’s belly and he scoffed at himself. He didn’t even know if Ollie was into guys so imagining randoms trying to sweep his absent roommate off his feet was ridiculous. Pushing the black rimmed glasses he needed for reading back up his nose, he focused back on the book in his right hand and the metal grip trainer in his left. Well, he tried to focus. Two sentences in he was sighing to himself as he glanced at the clock for the thousandth time since he came up from his last lifting session of the day. He still needed to get two more meals in tonight and had been hoping that he and Ollie might eat one of them together. Maybe get to know each other a bit. They were going to be sharing this space after all and the only things Dagen knew about the guy were either related to his tattoo skills or the unbelievable way the worn out jeans he was wearing last night hugged his ass.

Jesus, Dagen. Dude doesn’t need you perving on him from minute one.

The click of the door opening broke Dagen out of his thoughts and he looked over to see the object of his less than pure thoughts step into the apartment with his head down while he juggled several plastic grocery bags. Dagen set his book and grip trainer aside and walked to him as Ollie pushed the door closed with his foot.

Are there more groceries downstairs? Dagen asked and immediately felt bad when Ollie tensed up like he’d barely avoided jumping out of his skin.