The Taste and Feel of Ink
She knew better — didn’t she?
Libby Meyers knew Jake Holden was trouble the moment she laid eyes on him. It wasn’t the sleeves of tattoos he sported — though those would have made her father raise his eyebrows up to nearly his hairline — but rather the look in Jake’s dark eyes as he sat on the back of a motorcycle that had obviously been pulled together from scrap parts found around the county. Libby stood with a glass of lemon soda in her hand, her gaze flitting towards the back parking lot of Miller’s Grill where Jake and his friends were milling about as if it were any old Saturday.
Libby lifted the straw of the soda to her lips and drank deep, mustering her nerves before she set both the glass and cash down on the counter. Then she sauntered out the door, her tennis skirt swishing about her thighs, ready to aim and fire for what she thought she wanted most.
Because summer was just beginning. June, July, and August sighs would give way to September goodbyes. She had it in her mind mapped out as clear as day.
She knew her pink lipstick was barely left marred by the soda she had guzzled out of nervousness. Her make-up was on point — her friend Marietta had said so before the two had gone their separate ways for the evening, Mari to the mall and Libby to Miller’s — and she knew one look from Jake would…
