Nash

by Jay Crownover

  We had dated for three months, he was nice, had the same passion for the medical and health-related field and helping others that I did, and he was really, really cute. He seemed to like me, like a lot. He told me over and over that he thought I was funny, smart, pretty, and fun to be around, and he never pushed me. Things had progressed naturally … one thing led to another, and we ended up in bed together. That was where the one and only relationship I had ever attempted to have fell apart. The idea of being naked, stripped down and exposed to anyone, terrified me. The thought of being judged and found lacking had me breaking out in hives and into a cold sweat. There was nothing romantic or sexy about a girl struggling through sex, crying all over you, and bolting for the door as soon as it was over.

  But Derek had seemed like a wonderful guy and wanted to stay with me, wanted to work on it, and eventually wore me down to the point that I had agreed to give the entire relationship another try. Only sex never worked the way I wanted it to, really never went the way he wanted it to, and it wasn’t long before I found him in the arms of another one of the nurses on our rotation. Of course she wasn’t crying when I walked in on them at his apartment. The betrayal had stung and it had completely reinforced that I couldn’t really trust a guy, that they would always pick a sure bet over a girl with hang-ups and insecurities any day. Besides, Derek had always been way more into me than I was into him, and frankly, having an excuse to walk away when he seemed so nice and caring was actually a relief. It was exhausting trying to force it, to try and pretend like sex was getting better and more enjoyable … I didn’t blame him for wanting to take a girl that behaved normally to bed.

  Moving forward, there had been a guy or two along the way who I had been interested enough in to try it out again with, thinking a one-night stand would be less pressure. I thought that if the guy didn’t know me, didn’t know how I worked, maybe I could keep the irrational fear of rejection and ugly judgment at bay. It never worked. I always felt sick and just wanted it to be over with, so after the second time I was called a frigid tease, I decided to stop trying to make something happen. I stopped thinking ordinary boy-girl stuff was in my future.

  I didn’t blame Nash and what he had done entirely for all of my hang-ups. A lot of them were bred into me by simply being me. I was the odd one, the one that didn’t really fit. Faith was tall like I was, she also sported bright red hair, but hers was manageable and I don’t think she ever had a zit in her life. She was cheerful and popular, played volleyball, and was on all kinds of committees and in clubs. She was the perfect mix of both my parents and somehow still managed to be a sweet and delightful girl. No one seemed to know what to do with me, even at home, where I knew I was loved unconditionally. Even with that, in an effort to help, my parents put me on diet after diet, dragged me to dermatologist after dermatologist, and enrolled me in activity after activity, all of which just proved to be waste of money. I knew their intentions were good, that they wanted me to come out of my shell and live a full life, but all they succeeded in doing was making me feel inferior and awkward in my own skin.

  Of course none of my issues had been helped when right about the time Derek had proved to me that men were not to be trusted, my dad had decided that he was bored with my mom and that he wanted to trade her in for a newer model. It didn’t matter that we were a loving, caring, rock-solid family unit that helped and supported each other. No, what mattered was a pair of perky boobs and a toothy smile that made him feel ten years younger. He didn’t think twice about breaking our family apart, and I was left with a bone-deep understanding that men always picked the easy choice. If you put a pretty girl, someone that was obtainable and glossy in front of them, their penis was ultimately going to make a choice for them, and that sucked.

  Even though I knew he wasn’t for me, I had built an extravagant fantasy around who I thought Nash was back in the day. I liked that he was into art, thought the allure of him painting graffiti and being into tattoos and piercings was dangerous and cool. Most teenage girls did. I thought he was different, thought the way he interacted with me at our lockers made him above the way the rest of the typical teenage boys in our school treated me. When I found out how wrong I was, it had shattered me and just dug the pit where my sense of self and all the shattered pieces of confidence had fallen even deeper. It had taken becoming a nurse, finding a greater purpose, to enable me to go into that deep, dark hole and get all those fragments of myself out. I wasn’t entirely whole, but I was a far sight better off than I had been as a teenager.

  Faith was right. Ford women didn’t deal well with heartache, and I was loath to admit that one drunken kiss from Nash had more of an effect on me, got more of a response out of me, than all three months of the gentle wooing Derek had offered me. I was shrewd enough to know that wasn’t good, and I needed to take Faith’s stern warning and steer clear of him. Nash Donovan wasn’t good for my sense of self or good for keeping my life in the neat and orderly, straightforward way it was running now.

  CHAPTER 5

  Nash

  I was running on empty and getting increasingly short-tempered. Instead of working noon to seven, I was having to go in at nine and stay until eight or later to make up for all the people I had screwed over by skipping their appointments in the midst of my mental breakdown the previous week. My appointment book was always pretty full, so trying to reschedule an entire week’s worth of work wasn’t just a nightmare for me, but also had Cora ready to choke me.

  I was also trying to spend each lunch break visiting Phil, which meant there wasn’t a moment of downtime in my entire day. He wasn’t doing so great. His lungs had water in them and one of the pain medications they had him on wasn’t agreeing with his stomach, so he was having a hard time keeping anything down. It was hard to see him like that, like he was just wasting away right before my eyes. Seeing him fading away from me had hundreds of questions rattling around in my mind. I really wanted to pin him down and get the story from him. The shock had worn off some and now I wanted answers. I wasn’t scared of his response anymore. There was no way Phil was ashamed or unhappy that I was of his blood.

  I could’ve just hounded my mom until she gave the details up, but dealing with her was always a nightmare and I didn’t know that she could be bothered to tell the truth. Cora mentioned that her dad seemed to be privy to the insider information and she was totally open to prying the story out of him if I wanted. Her dad and Phil had been enlisted in the navy together years ago and had maintained a tight bond over the years.

  I told her to hold off because I needed to give the people who’d been involved, who’d let me live a lie for so long, the right to explain their decisions. However, if Phil didn’t decide to stop stonewalling me soon, I was going to take her up on the offer and not feel one ounce of guilt over it.

  I was the only one in the shop. I had to finish a zombie Hello Kitty tattoo on a girl’s leg. I was so over zombies. Every day it was zombie Elvis, zombie Marilyn, zombie Harry Potter … it was all zombies all the time. I mean I always made sure to give one hundred percent attention and dedication to every tattoo I put on a client. I owed them nothing less considering they would be sporting my artwork forever, but really I wondered if a lot of the younger clientele who ended up in my chair gave any thought to the passing trends. In five years zombie Elvis wasn’t going to seem nearly as cool as it did now, so I had to make sure it was at least an awesomely done tattoo even if the subject matter wouldn’t always be relevant.

  I was just finishing up and looking at the clock that sat on the front desk to see if I had time to go to the hospital, and was surprised when the front door to the shop swung open and Rowdy came strolling in. Rowdy St. James looked like a modern-day James Dean. He had a retro-cool vibe that was all his own and he was one of the funniest guys I had ever met. He made the atmosphere in the shop more lighthearted, since Rule could be such a dick and Cora liked to cause drama and be in everybody’s business. I lifted an eyebrow at him and finished wrap
ping the girl and her zombie up.

  “What’s up, man?”

  The client paid and told me how deliriously happy she was with her zombified kitty as I showed her out and locked the door behind her.

  “You’ve been pulling some crazy hours lately, dude.”

  To make his point even more obvious I yawned and had to crack my neck.

  “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have been acting like such a douche canoe last week.”

  “That was some heavy shit to deal with.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a grown-ass man. I was acting like a baby.”

  “No one blames you.”

  No they didn’t, but they should have. It took Saint showing up and telling me to pull my head out of my ass to see beyond my own churning feelings and Rule strong-arming me into acting right.

  “What are you doing here so late?” I asked as I started to straighten my station up.

  “I was looking for you. I stopped at the hospital to see Phil and he mentioned the new shop. That’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about it, though.”

  He chuckled and leaned on the front desk while I wiped things down with strong antiseptic.

  “Well, I don’t know shit about hiring a new staff, and thinking you’re going to find someone to replace Cora is a pipe dream. That mold didn’t just break, it got shattered into a million pieces on the floor. The world couldn’t handle more than one of her.”

  I laughed because he was right, and stood up so I could crack my back. I sounded like I was falling apart.

  “True.”

  “I know a guy, he does custom renovations and stuff like that. He’s a good dude, one of my clients actually. I just wanted to let you know I had a name when it comes to getting the place ready to be turned into a tattoo shop.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Zeb Fuller.”

  I had heard the name before. Zeb was a fellow car guy. He had an old International that he took to the same mechanic I used whenever the beast had something wrong with it I couldn’t handle on my own.

  “Cool. I’ll keep him in mind. I haven’t even made it down there yet. Between trying to catch up here and spend time with Phil, I’m just running in circles.”

  Not to mention even though I knew she wanted me to steer clear of her, I was still silently searching for Saint every time I stepped inside the hospital doors. So far I hadn’t had any luck, but that didn’t stop me from looking for her.

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, and Rule is all in super-groom mode. Oh, how things have changed around this place in the last few years. I remember when we were all about a good time and a few cold ones.”

  “Hey, I still am.” My argument was halfhearted at best. I was too tired for a good time.

  He laughed at me and rolled his ocean-colored eyes.

  “No way, Nash. Our entire crew is getting married and having babies, we’re all growing up and settling down.”

  Rowdy was the youngest of our band of brothers, so it was funny hearing this coming from him. I hit the lights and pulled a black beanie on over my shaved head.

  “Had to happen sometime, I guess, but marriage and babies …” I made a face. “Not for me.”

  “We’ll see, brother. We’ll see. Honestly, none of that was really why I tracked you down. I have an idea I want to run by you for the new shop.”

  Rowdy was an interesting guy. He was funny, the jokester of the group, but he also had a lot going on under the surface. I think that’s why he and Jet were so tight, there was so much more going on there than most people took at face value. He was way more into the art of what we did for a living than the rest of us were. I think underneath his tremendous hair, perfectly groomed chops, and jovial persona lurked the soul of a truly artistic man. I appreciated it, and him, so if he had an idea I was more than willing to give it a chance. Plus it had to matter a lot to him if he was approaching me after everyone else had cleared out for the day.

  “Shoot.”

  I was a little surprised to see he looked a bit nervous. There was a little flush of pink behind that big-ass tattoo of an anchor he rocked on the side of his neck.

  “Cora mentioned there was an empty space on the top floor of the new space that had offices and stuff. I think you should turn it into a store. Keep the tattoo shop and the piercing stuff downstairs, but upstairs you should consider selling stuff … like our own brand. More than just T-shirts and shit like we do now. I also think it might be a profitable idea to showcase some original art by the artists. Like Rule did that mural in the man cave for those rich guys and the way you did the back of that restaurant in graffiti on Broadway. People would buy it, and in that location you guys could charge an arm and a leg for it.”

  I could only stare at him. He must have taken my stunned surprise the wrong way because he shrugged and lifted a tattooed hand to rub the back of his neck.

  “Or not. It was just an idea.”

  I blinked and reached out to shove him in the center of his chest with my palm.

  “A fucking brilliant idea. Goddamn, dude, Phil should have left you in charge of this new project. I had no idea you were so business savvy.”

  We walked out the front door and entered into the cold Colorado air. The chill sucked the breath out of my lungs and made me shiver inside my hoodie.

  “I just watched what Rome and Asa did with that dive of a bar they ended up running and I thought we should try and up our game some as well. I love this place, love what we do, so why not take it to the next level?”

  “That means whoever we hire to manage these shops in place of Cora is going to have to be a perfect fit. You don’t happen to know anyone that can fill that role, do ya?”

  I automatically patted the pocket of my hoodie looking for a smoke and almost threw a fit when I came up empty. Quitting sucked and I sucked at quitting, but I was trying hard, and every time I saw Phil in that bed it made it a little bit easier.

  Rowdy shook his blond head and pulled the collar of his quilted flannel up around his neck.

  “Nope, but you’ll find someone. You have great instincts about people and Rule is like the gatekeeper from hell, not to mention whoever you hire has to pass the Cora test. You need to give yourself some credit, Nash. This is Phil’s life, his legacy … of course you’re the only one he would trust with it. We’re family, he wanted you to carry on the tradition and keep this place a home. You’ve got this, brother. Have some faith.”

  I just grunted and turned to walk to where the Charger was parked. Light flurries of snow were starting to blanket the ground.

  I glanced at him when he asked, “Hey, I heard your new neighbor is a solid ten. What’s up with that?”

  I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. What was up with that was that her hair was the wrong color of red and her eyes were dark, not a lulling, gentle gray.

  “Too busy, too jacked up over Phil … I dunno. Swing by for a beer and you can introduce yourself.”

  He didn’t respond, just gave me a look. A look that clearly stated if I wasn’t trying to actively get in the hot neighbor’s pants, something else was going on. Luckily it was freezing, so neither one of us wanted to hang out on the sidewalk, and I got to cleanly escape without floundering around for a weak excuse as to my real reasons for not throwing all my considerable game at the hottie across the hall.

  When I got to the hospital, it was almost nine. I tried to park close so I didn’t have to trek to the front door and freeze my balls off on the way, but fate wasn’t working for me and it took me five minutes to walk around the side of the complex to the front doors after finally finding a spot. I was muttering under my breath about needing a cigarette and rubbing my hands together to keep them warm when I came to a stumbling halt as I cleared the corner of the main building.

  Saint was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. The lights from the building were casting her in an ethereal and glinting light, like the heavens above were illuminating her
with their glow, making each snowflake trapped in her amazing hair glimmer. She wasn’t just called Saint … it was like some unknown force was trying to push me into seeing her as so much more. Her normally restrained hair was all over the place, rioting around her pale face like fire and copper. Snowflakes were gathering in the loose strands but she didn’t seem to notice. She was dressed in her scrubs, no coat or gloves, and the cold didn’t seem to have any effect on her as she meandered back and forth. She was moving frantically, her arms crossed tightly around her chest like she was trying to give herself a bear hug.

  I knew she didn’t want to have anything to do with me, that she wanted to pretend I didn’t exist, but I couldn’t just walk by her without asking her what was wrong, without seeing if she was okay. I wasn’t that kind of person, and more importantly it actually mattered to me why she was out here when she was obviously upset, and why she didn’t have a coat or anything on when it was so cold out.

  “Saint?”

  I called her name softly and moved a little closer. When she turned around I could see the frozen tracks of tears on her cheeks and could practically feel the coiled tension coming off her body. I was surprised the snow that was landing on her face and clinging to her eyelashes didn’t melt right off with all the heat and energy she was throwing off.

  “Are you all right?”

  She blinked at me like she didn’t recognize me, and I thought maybe it was the hat covering my head. She opened her mouth and then let it snap close again like words just wouldn’t come out. Her arms fell to her sides and she just stared at me, not saying anything or moving for a long moment. I was about to apologize for bothering her, yet again, when she suddenly moved toward me … she lurched like she had come untethered from the earth. I had no idea what she was doing, but the expression on her face was intent and focused, so I braced for her to smack me across the face or put a knee in my balls. With this girl I just never knew which way the tide was going to turn.