Chapter 39

The One Where Pain Kinks Are Satisfied

A R I E L L E

“I’m sorry I was such a mess last night,” I say to Hayes, taking a bite out of the toast he made for me.

I don’t remember every single part of last night, but I know that I got fucking wasted and cried my heart out to Hayes. And I never fucking cry so that must have been interesting for him to watch.

Although he’s a gentleman, I’m slightly embarrassed that he got to see me so vulnerable. I’m usually not ever that open when it comes to shit like that so he got to see a side of me not many get to.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs it off, taking a pill out of a container and swallowing it with some of his coffee. When he sets the container against the countertop, I recognize the pills as antidepressants.

So, he really is depressed.

I never doubted his story, but I guess part of me still feels the sting of his earlier lie to me. I’ve never been one to take lightly to people deceiving me and when I found out he was a cop of all things, it was like the worst slap to the fucking face.

“Would you like some painkillers?” He asks when he sees me sinking my head in my hands because my head is groggy and I have a bit of a headache from the alcohol.

I nod my head and give him a weak smile, having another bite of toast.

As much as I don’t want to think about it, my mind can’t stop thinking about Nate. I’m still very confused and hurt by him suddenly ending whatever we had but part of me gets it. I’ve never been one for commitment really and it’s obvious neither is he, so it makes sense when shit was getting more serious between us.

I don’t like the fact that he introduced me to his family and went back so quickly on it, but maybe that’s part of the biggest reason. Maybe something happened that night freaked him out to the point that he realized his true feelings about us.

“Thanks,” I mutter when Hayes places two painkillers on the countertop in front of me. I swallow them with some orange juice, praying that they’ll help even a little with the hangover. I already feel pretty shit with the Nate situation, a hangover is the last thing I’d like.

I have to remind myself not to obsess about Nate and this break up. I need to remind myself that it’s not worth it to worry about some guy that doesn’t want to be with me. I know my worth and I’m not going to intertwine it with our relationship that was never even technically a relationship.

Besides, the best way to prove that I don’t give a fuck about what he thinks or about this break up is to move on. Part of me feels like I need to prove this to not only him, but myself.

I know that I’ll be okay without him. Sure, I fucking miss him but why should I waste any of my time on a man that has decided that he doesn’t want to be around me anymore?

God, I need to stop fucking repeating that over and over again before I drive myself crazy.

Anyways, this morning I woke up in bed with Hayes, and I made a decision while staring at the tattoo on his back. I think it’s beautiful and it has so much meaning and honestly, girls with tattoos are fucking hot.

So are guys.

I decided that I’m going to get my first tattoo today. Why not satisfy my pain kink?

I had a lot of time to think about it this morning because I woke up before Hayes and I didn’t wanna wake him up after everything nice that he did for me last night. So, I decided that I want to get a cluster of three roses tattooed on my upper thigh and hip area.

When I was growing up my mother wasn’t around very much and so I spent a lot of time with my grandfather. My grandfather loved cars and he is one of the biggest reasons why I love racing and cars so much. Every single Valentine’s Day he would get my grandmother a single rose. Even several years after she passed, he was still getting her a single rose that he would take to her grave.

It kind of became a sort of symbol of my grandparents and that’s why I want to get the three roses—one for the each of us.

Hayes and I had a conversation about it when he woke up and he’s going to hook me up with his tattoo artist. Apparently, the guy is a close friend of his and Hayes says he’ll fit me in this afternoon, no problem.

“So, do you want me to come with you to the parlour?” Hayes questions, interrupting my thoughts.

I shrug, “That’s up to you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Despite what I’ve said, I know he probably wants to come with me. I mean, he has a massive crush on me. “It’s pretty fuckin’ boring to sit there for hours and watch.”

He swallows his mouthful of eggs and pauses thoughtfully. “I can come and introduce you to Mike, but I can’t stay.” He drinks a sip of coffee as I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. “Work,” he says with a shrug. “But you’ll have to send me a picture when it’s all done.”