Always Emilie: A Second Chance Love Story FF

Always EmilieAlyson RootA.Root Copyright © 2023 Alyson RootAll rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ASIN: B0BYT493B2Cover design by: Alyson RootIndependently Published For all those who got their second chance. Contents Title PageCopyrightDedicationChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25EpilogueAfterwordAcknowledgementAbout The AuthorBooks By This Author Chapter 1“Holymotherfuckingshitballs,” Charlie growled through gritted teeth. Her arm was on fire. Hours of having her skin scraped by the mechanical needle were taking its toll on her pain threshold.“I’m adding another tenner to your bill for that one.” Max laughed as he sprayed her arm with water before wiping the excess ink off with some kitchen roll.“Ten quid, are you taking the piss?”“Eleven now. You really need to get a grip on your swearing, lady.”Charlie had a few more choice words she wanted to throw at him at that moment, but the pain on her arm stopped her from unloading.“There, done, all finished.” Max rolled his chair back, tilting his head as he looked at his work.Charlie let out a breath she’d been holding. Why did she do this to herself? She knew why. She’d wanted tattoos since she was a kid. It had taken her until her thirtieth birthday before she’d summoned the courage to get her first one.“Take a look,” Max urged.This was Charlie’s favourite part. Gripping the arm of the chair, she hoisted herself up. Her legs were dead from sitting for so long. Her arse was tingling with pins and needles.The tattoo studio was small. It only had enough space for two tattoo artists, a piercing station and a small reception area. Across from the piercing station was a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Making her way across the room Charlie let her gaze wander over her new ink. Tears welled in her eyes. Max had captured her vision perfectly.“So, what d’ya think?” He knew what she thought. His wide smile said it all.“Max, you nailed it.”“Yeah, I did.” He laughed as he began breaking down his station. “You know the procedure by now, so I won’t go over it again. Look after those beauties. I worked hard on them.”Max really was a master artist. He was unlike any tattooist Charlie had ever met, though. His skin was completely devoid of any ink. Max was a haemophiliac. His blood’s inability to clot prevented him from getting tattoos. Well, it was strongly discouraged by medical professionals, and Max had heeded those warnings. Thankfully, his husband Ben was more than happy to let Max use his body as a canvas for all the tattoos that Max wanted but couldn’t have.Max also ran his tattoo studio like a high end boutique. Gentle music played from the stereo system. The space was immaculate—as a tattoo studio should be. The reception area offered a plush sofa with a glass coffee table in front. Opposite was a coffee station with every coffee flavour known to man. The reception desk was made from solid oak and it served to separate the front of house from the tattooists as well as welcoming clients. The walls were cream with tastefully selected photographs of Max’s work which ran from one end of the wall to the other. The photographs were fabulous—well they would be–Charlie had taken them after all. At the back of the shop was a full bathroom and kitchen area for Max and Ben.Charlie had been friends with Max for twenty-five years. They’d grown up living next door to each other but hadn’t spent all their time together as children. Max had gone to a different school and Charlie was painfully shy, so she never sought him out on her own. They had the odd afternoon playing together when Charlie’s parents needed her out of their way.Over the years, they’d kept in touch and it was only about eight years ago that they reconnected properly. It hadn’t taken them long to form a strong friendship, and Max was the one to give Charlie the confidence to get her first tattoo. The rest is history, as they say. Charlie wouldn’t go anywhere else now.Max’s forte was hyperrealism. It was as if the art he created came alive on the skin. Charlie could attest to it. Her body was proof.“Shall we get a video of the whole thing now it’s done?” Max enquired. Throughout the entire process they’d taken pictures, but now Max wanted to do a 360° video of the finished piece.Unlike her childhood years, Charlie was no longer shy. It had taken a lot of time and help to gain the confidence she had now, but she’d done it. Her body was beautiful, she was worth loving. How sad that she had to repeat that sentence in her head to function. Her therapist had spent hours helping her and so had her best friend, Sam. All those insecurities because she had shitty parents who never gave a damn. Charlie rolled her eyes at herself. It did no good feeling sorry for herself. Especially not today. Today she was finally at the end of her tattoo journey and she couldn’t wait to see the complete result.“Yeah, let’s do it. You got the camera ready, Benny boy?”“Yeah, all set up in the back room.”Charlie followed Max and Ben. The back room was actually a very large storage space that had been cleared out and had a white drop sheet installed for the photographs Charlie took of Max’s work.“Get your kit off then,” Max shouted from behind the drop cloth.“You’re a real charmer Max, I see why Ben fell over backwards to be with you,” Charlie smirked. Max had spent three years