Guided Love (Prick #1) Read online

  “Hey, Samantha, where is the prick?” I stand on top of the counter covered in paint. It’s in my hair and down my shirt, shorts and legs, something Axel finds to be quite funny by the look on his face.

  “He went out with the guys for a beer. I thought you’d be there with him.”

  I can see a slight hesitation in his response. “Damn, yeah, I forgot that they were meeting tonight. You’re here alone and left the door unlocked? You need to make sure you lock that, even when you are home you don’t want just anyone walking in.”

  I shake my head and look back at the wall. “Yeah, Axel, I wouldn’t want just anyone walking into my apartment.”

  I am expecting him to just go and meet up with the pricks but to my surprise, he sits down at the table. “Need any help?”

  I turn around again and see him already pulling his tee over his head. “Why are you taking your shirt off, Axel?”

  He looks up at me with these mesmerizing brown eyes and in all seriousness he replies, “This is my favorite shirt.” Like that should be a logical reason for why he is taking it off.

  “Well, Axel, if it’s your favorite shirt don’t you think you should keep it on?” He shakes his head like my question isn’t logical.

  “Babe, I am not going to get paint on this shirt. I'm here so I’m going to help you.” I can’t help but smile.

  I really do appreciate the fact that he is willing to help and that he feels comfortable enough with me to want to stay. I motion to the extra brush and pail and he heads over and picks it up. Axel’s back is to me and I never realized how many tattoos he has. He is covered. Truly, his body is a canvas of art—across his shoulder blades he has Strength in big bold lettering. Underneath that, he has an oak tree with the roots leading down to his belt. The detail of the tree is magnificent, the bark and the branches along with the leaves are so realistic it truly takes my breath away. The tree looks to have something engraved into it, but I can’t see the names this far away.

  “Like what you see?” I shake my head and realize that I was caught staring at his back and the paintbrush I am holding is dripping down my arm as well as on the covered floor.

  I feel myself turn red. “No. sorry, I mean yes . . . grrrr! I was just admiring your tattoos.”

  Once again, Axel is laughing at me and shaking his head. “Red looks good on you, Samantha.”

  “Get back to painting, Axel, then we can order some pizza . . . I mean if you are hungry. But if you need to go meet the guys and all, I completely understand.” He pours some more paint into his container and turns back to his wall.

  “I’m helping you paint and I’m going to need to be paid in pizza for all of my hard work,” he says as he winks at me.

  The kitchen looks good and working alongside Axel was fun. He is hysterical when he actually opens up and talks. I see now that, at first, he comes across as standoffish and intimidating with his broad shoulders, all the tattoos and the beard, but when he opens up his personality is one of a goof ball. I haven’t laughed that much since I hung out with Gabby. We are now on the floor in the living room with our backs against the couch and a large pizza with everything, in between us.

  “So, did you always want to be a writer?” I look up at him and him and nod.

  “For as long as I can remember, yes, I have always wanted to be a writer. When I was four, I would put together all of my color sheets and my mom would staple them and I would make them into books. I would even try and sell them at our yard sales.” I laugh as I remember setting them up on my own table. Axel starts to chuckle and takes a bite of his pizza.

  With a mouth full of food, he still talks to me. “Really . . . did anyone ever buy them?” he asks in between chewing and laughing at me.

  I look up and right into his eyes. “Of course they did, I am a fantastic writer.” I can’t stop my laughing. “Of course, I later found out that my mom paid my neighbors to come and buy them from me—some even asked me to sign them,” I said, remembering. It really feels good to remember that. Remember the times that were so much simpler. “Okay, Okay stop laughing at me. My mom just always wanted to make sure I never doubted my dream.”

  “Well, she sounds like an incredible mom and you are a fantastic writer.” I look up at him and he genuinely looks like he means it.

  “How would you know if I am a fantastic writer? I may totally suck at it.”

  He is shaking his head before I can finish my sentence. “No way, you, Samantha, are great at everything you do. I mean, really, you came here, saved my ass from drowning in receipts. You have increased sales to the point that we are all booked at least three weeks out—even Jay has a few more appointments. You are freaking awesome and you know it, so if you are going to write a novel then that will be the best fucking novel out there.” He grabs his beer and tips it to me in a nice ending to his declaration.

  I look at his face, I really look at him, and all I see is sincerity. “Thank you, Axel, truly I wish that I could have that confidence in myself. I have so many ideas but it seems that when I finally find the time to sit down and start to write it all just disappears. I can’t seem to get it out on paper.”

  “The right story will come to you, just don’t give up.”

  “Well, I’m trying to get everything up and running with Pricks. When I get all of that settled, I’ll make time.”

  “No.” I look up with a perplexed face and his is set in stone.

  “What?”

  “No. You need to take time. You have been great, truly amazing, but you need to start writing. Take a day off. Really, the shop will be fine and you can start fulfilling your dream.” Again, he winks at me and gives me that famous smirk.

  “’I’ll think about it. Change of subject here, but what is up with the tattoo on your back? Does it have a meaning?” He sets his beer down and closes the top to the now empty box.

  “Yeah, I was pretty much on my own when I was younger. So, what does a boy do when he is alone, he gets into trouble. One day, when I was about eight, I saw this tree in my neighbor’s yard. I went out and hopped the fence, deciding to climb it. Every day I would go up there, sit on the branch, and look out at the neighborhood. One day, I went out to tree, as usual, and there was a ladder that lead up to a floor. It was the start to a tree house. I didn’t know what to do, I just stood there looking up. I heard a voice behind me. It was my neighbor, Mr. Martinelli. He said, ‘It’s a lot easier to climb the ladder than it is to climb the tree. I have the floor done and I thought you would like to help me with the walls.’ I was shocked, I didn’t think they knew that I was climbing their tree, but they did. From that day on, I would head over to their house and go hang out in my tree house. That tree saved me. It was my escape, it’s where I found my family, and it’s where I found myself—my strength.”

  As he is telling me the story, it looks like he is back there. He is just looking into a memory. “Do you still talk to them?”

  He looks up and smiles. “Of course, the Martinelli's became Ma and Pop to me. They honestly raised me. The poor people moved into a new home and inherited an eight year old,” he says this with a laugh in his voice. “Pop died when I was in high school, but Ma, she lives about a half hour away. You should be meeting her soon, she has us pricks over for dinner every now and then.”

  “Looking forward to it, she sounds like an awesome lady.”

  “She is,” he says as he nods at me. “So, what’s next, Samantha? Want to watch a movie?”

  “Absolutely, do you mind if I go take a quick shower?”

  “No, go ahead, I’ll clean up here and get the movie ready. What do you want to watch?”

  “It doesn't matter, anything is fine. Camaron has a ton of movies under the TV, pick whatever you’d like, I’ll be right out”

  Could my night get any better? I head over to see if Camaron wants to grab a beer and end up spending the night painting and laughing with Samantha. Camaron is supposedly out with the pricks, which I know is a lie, but hey, it
all worked out for me. Seriously, I have never met a girl like her. She is truly genuine. She has a heart of gold and will do anything for anyone, especially Camaron, which kind of annoys the hell out of me. Scratch that—it drives me insane because he is such a dick to her. Nevertheless, I can’t get enough of this chick. I knew when I took my shirt off she turned three shades of red, I don’t think she saw me catch her but, damn, she looked so adorable and all I wanted to do was put my lips on her.

  I grab the boxes, crush them up, and clean up the plates. I walk over to the movies and debate over what I should put on: action or horror? With the horror she may get scared and sit closer to me . . . horror it is. By the time I get everything ready, I see her coming down the hallway. Holy Damn!

  “What?” I shake my head back and forth and look at her.

  “What? I didn’t say anything?” She starts to laugh at me as she heads towards me and the couch.

  “Yes, you did. You said, ‘Holy . . . Damn’”

  “I did?” still standing there speechless because she looks sexy as fuck.

  Laughing, she confirms that, yes, I must have said that out loud. “It’s just, you look good that's all.” Again, she starts to turn red and shake her head no. “You do, you can’t deny that.” She looks at me as if I just grew another head.

  “Axel, I am wearing flannel pajamas with ducks on them, I look far from good.”

  I grab the remote and sit next to her on the couch. “If only you could see yourself the way others do, Samantha.”

  I hit play and she starts to clap when she sees that I put in Annabelle.

  “I love scary movies! Good choice, Axel.”

  She leaps off the couch and turns out the lights; it’s better this way, maybe she won’t see how she affects me. Seriously, I feel like I’m back in fucking junior high. With her back to me, I quickly adjust myself and Samantha takes the seat next to me. Half way through, Samantha actually places her head on my shoulder she too must be getting tired. I take my arm and put it around her, bringing her closer. My eyes are heavy and I close them thinking that having her against me, it just feel right.

  “What the fuck!” I feel a slap to my head and I open my eyes to find Camaron glaring down at me.

  “What the fuck, Camaron, don’t touch me” I look around and I am lying on his couch and Samantha is on top of me with her head on my chest, she is sound asleep.”

  “Dude, what the fuck are you doing here? And why the fuck is Sam on top of you?” Camaron is pissed and staring at me, waiting for my answer. I really think that if Samantha wasn't on top of me right now he would be trying to kick my ass.

  “Dude, chill, I came by and wanted to see if you wanted to head to Kester’s for a beer but you were out with the guys, which we both know is a lie.” He shushes me and shakes his head no. “Dude, nothing happened, I helped Samantha paint your kitchen and we watched a movie, I guess we both fell asleep.”

  “How the hell did she end up on top of you?” I can't help but smile, which just pisses him off more.

  I try and wake her but she isn’t budging so Camaron comes over, picks her up, and takes her to bed. As I’m getting my shoes, he heads back out and nods at me. “Thanks for keeping her company. I owe you one.”

  “No problem at all man, she’s a blast to hang with. Where were you?” Camaron is grabbing a beer from the fridge and throws one my way.

  “I met someone.”

  “Okay, so why the secrets?” He looks past me towards the hallway and looks back at me.

  “I just don’t know how Sam is going to take it. I mean there is nothing between us and there never has been, but I still think that it will break her somehow, ya know?” I do know and I think he may be right. When Samantha looks at Camaron, I don’t think all she sees is friendship.

  “Well, how long have you been seeing this chick?” I’m starting to feel bad because I look at Camaron and he’s pale. He truly looks broken up about this.

  “About three months. She came into the shop to get pierced and she asked for my number. Man, she is wild! She’s beautiful and damn, if she doesn't give the best head I have ever experienced.”

  “So, how the hell have you been seeing this chic for the past three months and Samantha’s never known about it?” Camaron opens up the door and we stand in the hallway; damn, he really doesn’t want to have Samantha overhear. “Veronica, well Roni, actually, I see her on Mondays and Thursdays. Y’all taking Samantha out helped me out a ton. I don’t know what to do, man. Veronica wants to meet everyone, but I have this bad feeling.”

  “Dude, if I were you I would just be honest. Introduce her to Samantha over food that should help.” We both laugh and I head across the hall to my place.

  I hear my alarm going off, yet it seems so far away. I open my eyes and find that I am in Camaron’s bed. What the hell? I was lying next to Axel on the couch last night, how did I get into Camaron's bed? I look down and see that I am wrapped up in Camaron’s arms. Now this, this is the way I would love to wake up every morning.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  I turn around and face Camaron who hasn't moved his arms. “Morning, gorgeous, how did I get in your bed last night?”

  He takes his hand and brushes my hair out of my face, his touch sends chills through my body. “I came home last night and found you lying with Axel. We tried to wake you, but you were out like the fat kid in dodgeball. I thought I would just lie you down and I put you in here.”

  I could feel my eyes grow tight in a questioning look and I am so afraid to ask this question but I just need to know. “Why would you bring me in your bed and not my own?”

  He smiles and looks down at my lips and back up into my eyes. “I guess I just wanted to be close to you last night. It killed me to see you lying there with Axel and I guess I just needed my best friend lying next to me.” I can’t help but smile, he just made my day.

  “Well, gorgeous, I love lying next to you it just feels right, ya know?” Camaron nods and hugs me tight. “Well, I have to shower and head to the shop, I told Carrie I would cover the front desk this morning. What would you like me to make for dinner? I’ll head to the store and then put it in the crock pot this afternoon.”

  I get up out of his bed and start my way to the door. As I go, I am grabbing all of the dirty clothes left out on the floor.

  “Actually, Sam, you don’t have to worry about dinner, I have plans tonight. Dinner tomorrow, okay?” I look over my shoulder and he is sitting up in bed with his head down looking at his phone.

  “Sure thing, I’ll see you at the shop later.” He nods and doesn’t respond. Whatever that text was, it obviously was important as he completely shut down. I get out of the shower and Camaron is gone.

  I head down to the shop and open it up. I make sure that all the stations have all of the supplies that they need for the day and I start some paperwork, before I head out and open the shop to clients. I’ll be running the front desk so this paperwork needs to be done.

  The shop is hoping and Camaron is still not here. He missed his first scheduled appointment. I’ve texted a few times and still haven’t heard anything back. I hear some commotion coming from behind me and turn to see an angry Axel. I have never seen him look like this and it’s kind of scary. He has this look of anger that has his already dark brown eyes look black.

  “Have you heard back from Camaron?” I shake my head and finish scanning the paper work for a piercing into the computer.

  “No, Axel, I haven’t heard anything. I went ahead and cancelled his appointments today, but I can’t get a hold of his next appointment as he isn't answering my calls, but all the others are rescheduled. I'm a little concerned as he was fine this morning but then got a call and left without saying anything to me. That really isn’t normal.”

  Axel comes up from behind me and reaches over shoulder to grab the appointment book. Holy damn, I could feel him right up against me and I have to admit that my heart raced a little. Yeah, I really need to get
batteries for my B.O.B.

  “If his next appointment comes in don’t reschedule it. If it’s okay with him, see if we could get him with Jay or me. I don’t want to have the guy come all the way down and have to turn right around. We may be called Two Pricks but I really don’t want to piss off our clients.” He looks down at me, the anger is still there.

  “I got it, Axel, I’ll make sure we get him in the schedule for today.” He turns and is about to head back to his station and stops.

  “Thank you, Samantha, I appreciate all of your help.” He winks and turns and walks back to his station. I can’t help but have a little smile come across my lips because even though he is pissed he still can make me feel appreciated. My smile doesn’t last long when I hear my phone ding.

  Camaron: Sam won’t be in today can you reschedule all of my appointments

  Me: What happened to you Camaron? Axel is pissed and I have already rescheduled your appointments. Are you ok?

  Camaron: Yep im fine, just needed a day for me

  Me: A day for you?

  Camaron: Yeah, I won’t be home tonight so I’ll see you in the morning

  Me: Are you sure you’re ok? Tell me where you are, I’ll come and we could talk

  Camaron: No all is good, I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember tomorrow dinner ok?

  Me: Sounds good Camaron

  Camaron: I love you; you're my anchor you know that right?

  Me: I love you more Cam, don’t worry I’ll handle Axel and all will be OK

  Camaron: Thanks Sam I am so lucky to have you. XOXO

  He is so lucky to have me . . . damn, I wish we could just make this official. I can feel that things are changing and I just can’t wait until we are together.

  The rest of the day is busy and hectic. I told Axel that Camaron took himself to the Urgent Care because he wasn’t feeling well and that he would be in tomorrow. I am not too sure that he believed me as he just had this blank look on his face before he shook his head and walked away. I just completed all of my tasks listed on Carrie’s list, along with all of Camaron’s, and I’m locking the doors along with Paul and heading to Kester's, same as every Monday night. Sitting there amongst friends, I can’t stop thinking about Camaron. Where is he? Why is he not coming home? I mean, I’m sitting here with all the Pricks—who is he with? This is weighing on my mind so much that I haven’t eaten anything that I’ve ordered.