Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,20

I was on my own. Until Reagan and you gave me something honest to work for.”

“We might have given you that, but my illness kept you from working for what you really wanted. Now that you're back in school, I expect you to focus. Don't let anything distract you from that goal.” She lifted an imposing eyebrow. “I know you have the attention span of a two-year-old sometimes, especially around the boys.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was exactly why I loved my grandmother so much. She accepted every part of me and wasn’t shy about showing it. And that would have meant a lot no matter what, but it was especially touching considering what had actually happened with my parents. When I was a teen, I’d decided that I couldn't live a lie any longer and came out to them in a heartfelt letter. I think in my sweet, young, naive heart, I'd been certain that their love for me would override their homophobia.

Turned out I was mistaken.

The same afternoon that I came out to my parents was the same afternoon I found myself homeless. Fortunately, I’d had some friends whose parents didn't mind putting me up and letting me couch-surf for the remainder of my teen years. But that didn't make the rejection easy. Not having a family had left me feeling directionless, spiraling in self-hate and desperation.

Reagan had been the one to connect me to my grandmother again, years later. It had been scary as hell to meet her again after so long. I was too afraid that she was going to reject me like my parents—half thinking she already had, and that that’s why she hadn’t tried to contact me for all those years. Instead, she listened to my side of the story and welcomed me with open arms, and I ran into them swearing that I would never leave again.

Her sickness had come on quickly after that, and I thanked God that I was in her life to help her through it. I was able to support her while she underwent the grueling treatments for her cancer even as she was dealing with the fallout of a scam that had stolen all her money. And she was able to support me while I tried to grow into a man who wasn't holding on to the grief of his past.

“Grandma, you know I love you, right?”

“Darn tootin’, I know it.” She pulled out of the hug and reached up to pat my cheek. “Don't you have work today?”

“I do indeed,” I answered as I pressed another kiss to her forehead. Her skin felt so soft and thin beneath my lips. She smelled like Head & Shoulders shampoo and the powder she used to cover her makeup. She smelled like home. “But let me make you some lunch before I head out.”

Because it was Saturday, Get Ink’d was packed to the gills with customers, both those who had appointments and those who were hoping to get a coveted walk-in slot. I was working at my station on a piece of flash when Reagan pulled up a stool to sit near me.

“Looks good,” he said as he peered at the tiger wrestling with a snake that I was almost finished inking on a girl's thigh.

I leaned back and wiped off the excess ink and blood, taking a moment to admire my work. It was good. “Thanks, boss.”

When Reagan didn't leave immediately after, I knew he was there for a chat. Some good old Papa Reagan time. “Got something on your mind?” I asked.

“Just making sure you’re doing okay with the work-school balance. I know it can be a lot to try and wrestle two full-time occupations.” He didn’t say it with any hint of accusation, and I knew I wasn’t falling short on the job (at least not after that one day of lashing out). He was just looking out for me the way he’d looked out for so many of my coworkers in the past. The way he’d looked out for me years ago with my grandma. Hell, I didn’t think there was a man in the shop who hadn’t had a hand up from Reagan at some point.

That was what I liked most about the boss man. Aside from the fact the man made sure to give people jobs who really needed them, he also created a place that was safe for you to stumble, get up, and grow from the mistake. He understood that pulling yourself