Finding Me

CHAPTER 3

I've been a nervous wreck the rest of this week. The guys have been giving me grief over it, but I just shoot them the bird every time they give me shit. I just laugh along with them because I know I'm being ridiculous, but I can't help it. There's just something about India.

It's finally Friday, and I'm in the kitchen helping Jefferson make some snacks. I've just finished sprinkling cheddar cheese onto tortillas that will eventually be cajun chicken quesadillas. Jefferson just finished cooking the chicken breasts, and is slicing them into thin strips. We assemble them and smear butter on one side before putting them in a pan and smearing butter on the other side.

The doorbell rings, and my heart lurches into my throat.

"I've got it!" Austen calls from the living room.

Jefferson sees me wringing my hands in my shirt and gently removes them from the material. He straightens out my clothes and gathers me in his arms. I rest my head against his chest and take a calming breath. He places a kiss to the top of my head.

"It's going to be okay." he whispers against my hair. I squeeze him once around his middle, then lift my head.

"They're in here." I hear Austen say as he rounds the corner, India in tow.

She's just as breathtaking as the first time I saw her. She's dressed in a pair of jeans that hug her in all the right places, a simple black tank top that shows off her ample cleavage and many tats, and black biker boots. Her short blonde hair has been swept to the side, with the longer locks falling onto herr forehead. She holds out a bottle of whiskey.

"I brought something. My mom always told me to never show up to someone's house as a guest and not bring something." she says almost shyly. I take the square bottle from her and place it on the counter. Austen's eyes are darting back and forth between the two of us, a small smirk on the corner of his mouth. I make a mental note to smack the back of his head later.

"Thanks." I reply. "How about we all go into the living room and get comfortable." I glance at Jefferson, and he nods his head indicating that he will finish up the food.

I lead India into the living room and get settled on the couch. I'm at one end, while she chooses the other. Austen follows a few minutes later with a couple of beers. He opens them and passes them to us. I take a long drink to try to settle my nerves, and I notice India does the same. Could she be just as nervous as I am? She seems so confident with herself. I set my beer down on the coffee table, while she plays with the label on hers. She definitely seems nervous, and it warms my heart a little.

"So, India, my artist talks about your work all the time. What made you want to be a tattoo artist?" Austen asks, breaking the ice. Her nerves seem to completely disappear as she becomes animated.

"I've always loved art. I've been drawing since before I even knew how to write. I got lucky with my mom, and she encouraged me to do whatever it was I wanted to do. She bought me all manner of art supplies. It was a no brainer for me to move to tattooing people. I wanted to bring joy to people when they would come to me with a special story, and allow me to bring it to life on their skin."

"You do beautiful work." I tell her. "I've seen the pictures on Facebook and Twitter. It's all so beautiful. Do you have a specific style?" I learned from Austen that a lot of artists specialize in a certain style. She shakes her head.

"Not really. I love all the styles, so I set out to learn them. I want to be able to do whatever it is my clients ask me for." A blush creeps across her cheeks as she takes another sip of her beer.

Jefferson calls out for Austen to come help him. As soon as I'm alone with India, my heart races in my chest.

"You look beautiful tonight." she says. My head whips up to meet her gaze, sincerity shining in her bright blue eyes.