Loved by Her Read online

  Loved by Her

  Tattooed Brides - Book Three

  Pixie Chica

  Pixie Chica

  Contents

  Untitled

  Dedication

  1. Star

  2. Meridien

  3. Star

  4. Star

  5. Meridien

  6. Meridien

  7. Star

  8. Meridien

  9. Star

  10. Meridien

  11. Meridien

  Epilogue One - Star

  Epilogue Two - Meridien

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  Loved by Her

  Tattooed Brides – Book 3

  © Pixie Chica 2019

  All Rights Reserved by the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  ASIN: B07YBZN9SZ

  ISBN: 9781695505742

  Editor: Elizabeth E. Neal

  Cover: KL Fast

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  To all those who are too afraid to come out and find love…

  Whenever you’re ready, the world is ready for you.

  Be you, be fabulous.

  Chapter One

  Star

  It’s not even eight in the morning and I already can’t wait to get out of here. I’ve hated the first day of school for as long as I can remember, but this is my senior year. I’ll have my diploma in a few months, which will make my parents proud. All they’ve ever wanted is for me to walk across that stage, something neither got the chance to do, proving everyone wrong who said they’d amount to nothing. They’re both from prominent families who turned their back on them. They had to fend for themselves far too young after falling madly in love at sixteen and learning they were expecting me. The road was rough, but they gave me the best life a kid could ask for. In their eyes, I’m their biggest accomplishment, a slap in the face to all those who condemned them, and they are the only reason my ass doesn’t miss a class even though I hate each minute of it with every fiber of my being.

  I’m surrounded by southern belles and guys with big trucks, not that either describes everybody, but they are the majority. So, being the only out lesbian, and with numerous piercings at that, doesn’t exactly earn you a lot of friends. I hang out with a couple, but they’re outcasts just like me. While anyone else would’ve succumbed to the glances or name calling, I simply brush them off, knowing it’s a reflection on them more than myself. I’m not saying that’s wisdom I learned on my own, but from observing my mother over the years. She’s been called a statistic and so many other things due to having me so young, yet she holds her head high, gives them a smile, then says ‘bless your heart.’ However, my tiny Latina mom is fiery and not ashamed of her path, so it’s not unusual for her to add a ‘go fuck yourself’ in Spanish as she walks away, a spring in her step.

  But it’s a different story when my dad, a giant farmer, is at her side. Lips that would freely spew insults or gaze upon her as if she’s trash seconds before when she’s alone are silent and focused elsewhere, not willing to gain his wrath. She made it her mission to always make sure I knew my worth and to have thick skin when it comes to the opinions of others.

  It’s those lessons I hold dear as I head to my locker, one I hope won’t be ransacked by idiots like mine was last year. After stuffing my books inside and closing it, I lay my forehead on the cool metal, taking a moment to shut my eyes and mentally prepare for the day. Just get through this one, Star. That mantra is one I’ll probably repeat every morning until graduation.

  I’m startled by the sound of the locker beside mine closing and silently chastise myself for not picking one further away. My theory about others avoiding those by the lab after last year’s “accident” thanks to the mad scientist teacher is obviously a bust.

  “Hi, I’m Meridien Covington, but you can call me Mer,” a voice too chipper for this early hour says. Having no choice but to glance up, I brace myself for whatever practical joke is about to play out, yet I come face to face with a meticulously put together, southern peach. I can’t stop myself from scouring the area around us, waiting for the punchline. With her fiery red hair perfectly pulled back and wrapped in ribbons and green eyes shining, she belongs on the cheer squad. Why is she talking to me?

  She doesn’t look familiar, I would definitely remember her if I’d seen her before, so I ask, “Are you lost?” I have this overwhelming need to protect her from how others might treat her if they see her with me. I don’t give a shit what they say about me, but I see a sweetness about her that hasn’t been tainted by bullies or name calling and I want her to retain it.

  “Um…not particularly. My parents and I got the tour on back to school night. Dad’s been traveling a lot because of his job, so we spent time in Savannah, then a few years in Atlanta, and we just moved here. He says this is our forever home, though. Anyway, whew, that was more information than I should’ve shared. Are you going to tell me your name?”

  She bats her eyes and I have to try really hard not to smile. She’s a lot friendlier than she should be, but it’s refreshing, and that means I need to nip this in the bud now.

  “It’s not important. You need to stay as far away from me as possible,” I inform her, staring her dead in the eye.

  “That wasn’t very nice…” she starts to say, but I quicken my pace, leaving her behind. Complication averted, point to me. It’s for her own good. I remind myself as I walk toward my English class and take the table in the back. I’m always early, so I put my book on it and wait for the teacher. Mrs. Smith, who I’ve had before, is a sweetheart and lets me come in before the bell rings. I hear the others start to pour in, their endless chatter about summer break and how spectacular everything was makes me roll my eyes as I lay my head down for a bit.

  When the chair next to me scrapes against the floor, I jerk my head up, wondering who it is and come face to face with Mer, as she prefers to be called. “You’re rude,” she chastises me, hand on her hip with what I can only assume she thinks is a scowl aimed at me. It’s almost comical actually, because she still looks cheerful. When she plops on the chair, I can feel the others staring at us.

  “This seat is taken. Find another,” I tell her, making sure my voice carries. Lowering it, I add, “I’m trying to help you out. Trust me.” Please let her understand.

  “Your name,” she demands and I seriously start to wonder if she has a few screws loose.

  “Oh good, you’ve met Meridien. Star, can you please show her to her next class when we’re done? Her parents are dear friends of mine from college,” Mrs. Smith chimes in, interrupting us, then returns to the front of the room and tells everyone to settle down. “I’ve got a lo
t to go through, but nothing too painful...or is it?” She jokes.

  “That’s a pretty name. We’ll become great friends,” she predicts.

  “Yay,” I retort.

  “Is that a defense mechanism? My brother, he’s studying to be a psychiatrist, says sarcasm is an effective way to keep people at a distance.” I just blink at her, having no response to that. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. He also told me people don’t like to be confronted with their issues, that sometimes you have to wait until they’re ready to share them with you. We’ll get there, I just know it.”

  “Why me?” I want to know. “I’m obviously not the most conventional person here.”

  “Conventional is overrated, aside from that, I’m honestly not sure. You haven’t run away yet, so I'll take that as a sign.”

  Grinning at the absurdity of it all, I remind her, “I tried, but you followed me.”

  She suddenly looks like she’s about to burst into tears and I start to panic, checking to see if anyone is watching our exchange. They already think I’m unapproachable, this would just be proof in their eyes. “Whoa, please don’t cry, I was just messing around. I’ll be your friend; you seem harmless enough.”

  “Really?” She asks, flashing pearly white teeth at me, causing an uncomfortable ache.

  “Yes, but they are limits. No trying to come to my house and stuff.”

  With her beautiful smile shining bright, she says, “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Two

  Meridien

  Six months later…

  “Hola Señora Sinclair está Star en casa?” I ask, walking in without knocking, having already been told numerous times I don’t need to since my first visit here. Granted, it was an unannounced one, but Star soon gave up trying to keep me at arm’s length, accepting the fact it wouldn’t work. The moment I saw the tall brunette with the piercings and unique style, I was drawn to her. I could see the kindness in her onyx colored eyes that she tried so hard to mask and made it my mission to be her friend. Now we’re inseparable. Her mom, Xiomara, treats me as if I were her own, feeding me whenever I’m here, so I know there are goodies waiting for me. As much as I love my parents, I have never felt as welcomed as I do here.

  “I see those Spanish classes are paying off. It’s always good to know a second language. Yes, mija, she is. There’s some cheese pastelitos in the fridge, though I had to smack Calvin’s hand from reaching for them. You know my husband is addicted to them.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. He isn’t the only one,” I tell her as I grab my treats. I’m not lying either, they’re to die for. After a bite, you’ll crave them for the rest of your life.

  “My parents are visiting my brother at the university this weekend since they’ll be there for a medical conference. I’m going to see if Star wants to hang out.”

  “You should just come here, it’s not safe for a young lady to be by herself that long. And its Star’s birthday, though she doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  “OMG! How could she not tell me? Starrrrrr!!!!” I yell going upstairs. I hear her talking on the phone as I get close. I know I shouldn’t listen, but I can’t seem to stop.

  “I haven’t seen you in forever, cuzzo. I’m so fucking glad we’re both eighteen now. I can’t believe your parents won’t let us hang out. Whatever you do…do not, I repeat do not, bring Mallory. I can’t believe she did me like that. If all she wanted was a summer fling, she could’ve warned me because I’m not that kind of chick. I regret her being my first.”

  The thought of her being with another girl shouldn’t cause this ache in the pit of my stomach, yet it does. I try to tell myself it’s because I ate too many of the pastelitos, otherwise, it’s due to her revelation in some way, but that can’t be it.

  Perhaps, having lost my own virginity to a loser, I can sympathize with Star. Yeah, that makes sense. It has nothing to do with the confirmation she’s a lesbian, or how that word always makes me feel strange. Shaking my head to clear off these thoughts, I knock on the door.

  “Come in,” she says, quickly ending her call and hanging up.

  “Why didn’t you tell me it’s almost your birthday?”

  She simply shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “I’m just going out with my cousin, getting a tattoo, and having a small dinner with the family.”

  My jaw drops as if she didn’t throw a bomb out there. Those are definitely not equivalent. “Whoa! Back up, back it up! I got a small dinner and a check to get a sensible and reliable car. Your parents won’t kill you about the tattoo? Mine would have a coronary,” I snort at my own joke, both of them being heart doctors and all, which gains me a head shake and her half-grin.

  “I can legally get one without their permission, besides, you know they support me in everything I do. I’m seriously contemplating becoming a tattoo artist.”

  She’s been telling me for months it’s what she wants to do, but I didn’t believe her. I’ve already been accepted to the University of Georgia, step one in my life plan, well, not mine exactly. I honestly don’t want to be a doctor, but it’s what’s expected of me as a Covington, following the family tradition of doing so. And while I want to have kids, the road I’m taking won’t exactly be ideal for raising them. My brother and I grew up without our parents around, not that they were neglectful, per se, but we were afterthoughts as their careers always came first. As a pediatrician, those I see as patients will have to suffice. However, while I may have resigned myself to taking this path, it’ll be very lonesome if I don’t have Star next to me.

  “My parents feel if you don’t go to college, you won’t get anywhere,” I say with true concern. “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

  “Mer, you know I think they’re…motivated, let’s call it, but it’s not the only choice. Mine didn’t even graduate high school. Dad makes a good living with a GED and trade school certification. I don’t accept that everyone has to go, especially if they’re good with their hands or have a talent they enjoy using. It’d be a waste of time.”

  I don’t know why, but a small seed of dread hits me even though I know she’s right. I’m merely being selfish in wanting her with me.

  Conceding her point, I ask, “Can I go with you? Your mom said I can stay the weekend. I’d love to see one in the flesh.”

  She gives a hearty chuckle, saying, “Sure. If you promise you won’t go crazy.” I nod in agreement, not verbally doing so because I don’t want to lie.

  “You sure this is safe?” I want to know, standing close as we enter the shop. Her cousin, Ricardo, has been rolling his eyes at me all day or giving me funny looks, so I’m sure my newest inquisition isn’t earning me any brownie points. Thankfully, Star hasn’t caught him doing it.

  I’ve never had to be anyone but myself around her because she’s always accepted me as I am, but with Ricardo here, it’s as if I’m back at one of my former schools. I was viewed as too hyper and inquisitive, which meant it was hard to make friends.

  “One hundred percent. A girl who works here has done a few of my piercings. Come on,” Star assures me as we walk in where she’s greeted by some of the guys, as is her cousin.

  “‘Bout time, you’ve been waiting on this day forever! You ready to get the skull? Jerri’s anxious to do it. That drawing you two did was badass.” A man who stands taller than any I’ve ever seen pats her on the back. His face is covered in ink, but each section is like a puzzle piece and I’m standing there mesmerized, trying to see all of it.

  “You okay, sweetheart? It’s not polite to stare.”

  Mortified, my eyes immediately move to my shoes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I was admiring your artwork. It’s so intricate.”

  “En serio, porque trajiste, a la gringa Barbie?” I hear Ricardo murmur under his breath to Star and I start to panic. That’s the second time I’ve embarrassed her already.

  “I…I’ll wait for you in the car,” I stammer, but her tight grip stops me from leaving.

&nbs
p; “You’re not going anywhere. I want you to be here,” she reminds me, her kind gaze telling me she won’t let me hide. I nod, and stay where I am as she turns to her cousin. “She knows better Spanish than we do combined, so that was rude as fuck. Maybe you should go before your mom gets a picture of where you are and who you’re with.”

  “Are you fucking serious? You’re picking her over your own family?” He asks, pissed.

  “She’s my best friend and I want to share this with her. If you can’t respect that then you’re no different than your judgmental parents.”

  He scoffs, giving me the dirtiest look as he walks to the door and throws out, “Fuck you and your friend,” as he storms off.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she informs me then turns back to the man she was talking to. “As for the piece, I sketched something last night and wanted to show you guys.”

  “Jerri’s expecting you. She has your paperwork in there,” he lets her know, pointing to a room at the end. “As for you,” he starts, shifting to me with a comforting smile I reciprocate, “thanks for calling it artwork. And there’s nothing wrong with admiring tattoos.”

  Chapter Three

  Star

  “You sure this is what you want?” Jerri asks, staring at me like I’m crazy. Considering how often I’ve been here after securing this date and the fact the original tattoo concept had been finalized months ago, her reaction is understandable. But then I drew this design last night and my plan changed.