Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Kinsley
Exposed Ink is my sanctuary, where I can hide behind the needles and ink, shielding my shattered heart from further pain and loss.
Until Shane, a firefighter and single dad, threatens to unravel the carefully constructed walls I’ve built to survive.
First, he saves my life—literally—and then he turns it upside down by making me long for things I can’t have.
He says he wants to get some ink done, but I know he wants something more … something I can’t give him—me.
Shane
As a firefighter medic, I’m used to fixing physical wounds, but Kinsley’s scars run deeper.
To some, her brokenness might be perceived as a weakness, but I can see the strength buried deep.
With each passing day—and mark to my skin—I find myself falling harder for the striking beauty with the sad eyes.
She’s quickly tattooed herself on my heart, and I’m determined to be the one who shows her that love can heal even the deepest wounds
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Little by little, we let go of loss, but never of love.
—Unknown
EXPOSED INK PLAYLIST
24/7, 365 – elijah woods
Tie Me Down – Gryffin & Elley Duhé
Cold Water (feat. Justin Bieber & MØ) – Major Lazer
10,000 Hours – Dan + Shay & Justin Bieber
Anyone – Justin Bieber
Message in a Bottle (Taylor’s Version) – Taylor Swift
H.O.L.Y. – Florida Georgia Line
Speechless – Dan + Shay
Stay With Me – Sam Smith
What Ifs (feat. Lauren Alaina) – Kane Brown
To a T – Ryan Hurd
Take Your Time – Sam Hunt
Something Just Like This – The Chainsmokers & Coldplay
Fearless (Taylor’s Version) – Taylor Swift
Check out all Nikki’s playlists
ONE
Kinsley
The Present
“Girl, this looks amazing,” my cousin Natalia says as she stands in front of the floor-length mirror, admiring her new tattoo.
She’s twenty-eight, the same age as me, but unlike me, it’s her first time getting inked. She’s tried over the years to get me to ink her, but I have a rule—the tattoo must be meaningful. If it’s not, I’m not permanently putting it on your body.
I don’t give a shit if that means I lose business. If you want me to do the work, you’d better be prepared to explain why you want the design you’re getting, or you won’t be getting it from me.
Because Natalia’s a fashion designer, following in her mom’s and older sister’s footsteps, I designed a custom piece for her—a hanger that loops into a needle and thread and then morphs into a tape measure that connects to a pair of scissors. It’s chaotic and beautiful, just like my best friend, and it’s on her hip, where no one can see it unless she wants them to.
“Seriously, Kins, I love it.”
She turns around, her shiny black hair whooshing around her heart-shaped face, and cuts across the room with her mile-long legs that many are envious of.
“Thank you!” She dramatically throws her arms around my neck while I stand in my spot, not wanting to touch anything with my gloves since I still need to do her aftercare.
When she hugs me tighter, I can’t help but stiffen under her touch. It’s not often I allow people to get this close to me, so when they do, it hits me hard. Years of avoiding affection will do that to a person.
“You’re welcome,” I choke out, stepping out of her embrace. “Make sure you take care of it, so it stays looking good.”
She gives me a duh look while she quickly snaps a picture, no doubt to post on her social media, which is fine with me since she has, like, a gazillion followers, and she’ll tag me, which will ultimately lead to new business—something every business can use.
I grab the ointment, apply a thin layer over the tattoo, then cover it with a bandage.
“Here are your aftercare instructions,” I say, handing her the printout we provide at Exposed Ink, not needing to go into detail since her dad—my uncle Jase—is a retired tattoo artist, who co-owns Forbidden Ink, one of the biggest tattoo shops in New York City.
“How’d it go?” Scott, the front-end manager, asks when we walk up to the desk.
When he’s not answering the phones or handling the schedule, he’s apprenticing with my dad, who works here part-time.
My dad retired from tattooing several years ago when our family moved to Brookside, a small town just outside of New York City. But a couple of years ago, when I was struggling, he decided to open a new tattoo shop in town, insisting that we do it together.
“So good.” Natalia thrusts her phone into his face. “Kinsley is the best.”
“Damn right she is,” Dad says, walking to the front. “She learned from her old man.”
While my dad has red hair and green eyes, looking every bit like the Irish heritage he comes from—the same hair and eye color my younger sister and brother inherited—I have brown hair and blue eyes. We look nothing alike, which makes sense since Lachlan Bryson isn’t my biological dad, but he’s the only man I’d ever consider calling Dad, genetics be damned.
“Looks great,” Dad says when he leans over Scott and looks at the picture Natalia is holding up.
“Thanks.” She grins, putting her phone away and taking her card out to pay.
“You’re not paying me,” I scoff.
“Of course I am,” she insists, handing the card to Scott. “If you keep doing everyone’s ink for free, you’ll never make a profit.”
My dad nods in agreement even though he knows damn well that we don’t need the money. Exposed Ink brings in plenty of revenue, and on top of that, I own it free and clear, thanks to my dad, who covered all the expenses to get it up and running and refused to let me pay him back. He claims we’re partners, yet he never takes a dime the shop brings in.
“So, what are you girls up to tonight?” Dad asks, snapping me from my thoughts.