Making Waves – Franklin U Read Online Christina Lee

Categories Genre: College, M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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“True. Now I’ll have to think of a code name for you.”

“I’m waiting with bated breath,” Remy teased.

“Little Peep would be too obvious…and so would Moody Boy,” I said, and he rolled his eyes. “Tattoo Boy doesn’t work either…unless I just used the initials from that…I think I’ve got it. You will now be known as Ted Barlow.” I started putting the information into my phone as he cracked up.

“Okay, my turn,” he said, punching my number into his phone. “I’ll take your Tattoo Boy and raise you a Chlorine Boy.”

“Seriously?” I scoffed. “I mean, you could at least call me Dunking Champion or—”

“Nope, that chlorine smell reminds me of you.”

My face felt hot. “That’s not very flattering.”

“And Moody Boy is?”

“It’s better than—”

“Nope, it’s settled: Carl Bennington.”

We smiled at each other as we put away our phones.

“All right then. Catch you later, Ted.”

“Back at you, Carl.” He winked. “And by the way, I’ve come to appreciate the smell of chlorine. Maybe even look forward to it.”

I grinned the whole way to class. Uh-oh. I was in serious trouble. I nearly felt guilty for using a secret code name behind Bailey’s back, but what harm could it do? We were only playing around. And it was fun. I could use a laugh or two in the middle of my busy days. Besides, Bailey was pretty distracted with his own crush.

7

Remy

I’d left my composition class and was headed toward Indelible Ink when my cell buzzed with a text from Carl Bennington. I was confused at first but then couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear.

How does today sound, Ted? Alex asked.

Finally. It’d been a week since our conversation about him visiting the shop. Not that I was counting the minutes or anything.

I’m free in a couple of hours if that works with your schedule.

It does. See you soon.

I pushed through the glass door and greeted Bruno, who was sitting behind the computer, then headed to my empty cubicle to prepare for my first appointment.

As soon as the customer showed up, we made small talk as I got him situated in the chair and tried to make him feel more comfortable since he’d admitted how nervous the sessions made him. The tattoo was a large dragon we’d worked on the past couple of visits. In all honesty, it was fucking cool to have someone trust you with their vision, but I was still new at the shop and felt nervous that I’d screw something up. I took this job seriously. No way I’d want to end up on one of those sites that posted bad tattoos.

Soon enough, I turned on the machine and got lost in the work, focusing on the task in front of me and tuning out everything else. It was always that way with my art—my safe zone, my happy place. I could always count on it to get me through my worst days.

Once finished with his session, we scheduled the next appointment, and then I walked him to the door, reminding him of the care instructions. I turned to chat with Amanda, another of Bruno’s tattoo artists, when the bell above the door jingled.

My heart tripped when I saw Alex standing there with his snug jeans and letterman jacket with the purple-and-gold school colors. I’d certainly never be caught dead in such a thing, but just like in high school, it suited his lean swimmer physique.

I snickered because he looked adorable, like a deer caught in headlights. It was normal to feel a bit intimidated your first time in a tattoo parlor, but he quickly got his bearings as he took everything in.

“Hey, Alex.” His shoulders relaxed as he stepped farther inside, his gaze connecting with mine.

“Nice place.” His eyes snagged on the graffiti-art photos on the walls, something Bruno specialized in. He was a man of few words unless he was peeved about something, but his art was absolutely something to be admired.

And speaking of the devil, Bruno straightened from behind the counter and tipped his chin. “Welcome.”

“Thanks.” Alex eyed Bruno warily as Bruno made a beeline for his client, who was waiting in the chair. Bruno’s beefy arms and shaved head could make students swallow their tongues, but his easy smile made him more approachable.

“Let me grab some stuff for you to page through,” I told Alex, reaching under the front desk for two scrapbooks of tattoo photos. Bruno loved using his polaroid camera at the end of sessions to record each one and then spent all kinds of time grouping them by theme and artist. “It might help you decide.”

Alex sat in one of the plastic chairs, and I sank down beside him as he started flipping through one of the books. I leaned over his shoulder to point out some cool but simple designs, making sure to avoid anything too elaborate.



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