He took a giant bite of his bagel and talked with his mouth full. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Apologize?”
“And?” He prompted and I sort of felt like I was being Stan’d all over again.
“Tell her the truth.” I said slowly.
“But also?” Fuck. I couldn’t really be this bad at life skills, could I?
“Tell her I love her.” It came out more of a question than an actual answer, but apparently, it was what he was looking for because he made a fake ding ding ding sound and gave me an approving grin.
“She’s going to make you work hard at it, man. She doesn’t forgive easily. Once, I accidentally tore the head off her Barbie and she refused to speak to me for two weeks.”
I was sure my face showed my feelings about that. “Um, you did that on purpose.”
He waved his hand around like the details of the situation weren’t important. “What I mean, man, is you have to work for it. Show her some grand gesture, because you have a thick skull and you waited two weeks to go after her when you should have fucking done it from the start.”
“What do I do?” I asked, clearly looking for guidance because it was apparent that my own decisions were shit without the help of others.
“That’s up to you, man. Make it meaningful because she’s worth it. She doesn’t need appeasement; she needs it real.”
His last statement bounced around my head the rest of the morning as I sat, ate, and hung out with my best friend, thankful he wasn’t too angry. I knew he had every right to give me the black eye, I had broken an important promise, not only to him but to Lotus, and I swore I’d spend the rest of my life proving I was worth this second chance.
I left his apartment and drove around town in a daze, completely lost on what sort of grand gesture would be enough to win her over and prove that she was it for me. She was the one. She’d always been the one. The last few weeks had been completely miserable and if I lost her ... shit ... I couldn’t lose her.
I reached up and rubbed the empty spot on my chest, trying to ease the ache that formed there every time I thought about Lotus. Kissing Lotus ... ache. Being close to Lotus ... ache. Loving Lotus ... ache. Living the rest of my life without Lotus ... ache. (Followed by some nausea, if I was going to start being completely upfront with myself.)
I had just stopped at the red light, still trying to rub the ache away, when I looked left and saw it. The neon OPEN sign flashed like a beacon, calling me to its doors. The place sounded familiar, I had probably heard a good review or two, so I turned on my blinker, made the turn and before I knew it, I was parked in front of a tattoo shop called Gruff Bastards, ready to make my grand gesture come to life.
It probably seemed like a cliché, a tattoo to show I cared, but it was more than that. I told myself that nothing was worth enough to own my heart, to cause me heartache, to break me again, but I was wrong. She was worthy enough to cause me to crumble and make my knees weak, she was beautiful enough to make me breathless and steal my speech. She deserved recognition for holding my heart in the palm of her hand and proving to me that love was possible.
A bell jingled on the door as I pulled it open and walked in. A guy’s head peeked over a cubicle and he shot me a wave before ducking back down. I waited a few minutes until the guy was at a stopping point and came to the reception area.
“Hey. What can I do for you?” He was tall and broad, covered in ink, and in the outside world, I would've bet he was an intimidating son of a bitch but inside the shop, he fit perfectly.
“I was looking to get some last-minute work done. Do you have anyone free?”
He made a hissing sound through a small gap in his teeth as he sucked in air. “I don’t know, man. It’s sort of late and it’s Christmas Eve. Let me go talk to the boss and see if he’s up for doing some work.”
I watched as he walked away, annoyed that I was such a dunce that I couldn’t have seen how much I loved her earlier. I could have been with her now, wrapped in her arms, probably her sheets and it would have been heaven. He wasn’t gone long and when he came back, he directed me to a cubical in the corner.
“You’re lucky. Bossman doesn’t do much ink unless requested but one look at you and he agreed. He must have seen the desperation in your eyes because I mean, who walks into a shop an hour before closing, expecting work?”
I gave him a crooked grin and scrubbed my neck. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I must have been driving around longer than I thought.”
“We’re good. No worries. Boss will be here in a minute, he was just finishing up some paperwork.” He told me as he walked back to his space to finish up his work.
I sat for a good ten minutes, waiting for the artist to arrive. The anticipation was killing me, as it did anytime I was about to go under the needle. I picked up a magazine on a stand and skimmed through it, trying to not be antsy. I had just reached the end of an article about the infection and rejection rates on various piercings, when I heard a shuffle. I looked up, meeting the piercing glare of Gus, and fuck if I didn’t realize why Gruff Bastards’ name seemed so familiar until then, a little too late, of course.
“I can explain.” I blurted out defensively. He watched me, piercing me with his eyes while he washed his hands at the sink close by, dried them and took out a pair of black rubber gloves. His gaze was intense and he was fucking making me squirm. “Seriously. I can explain.”
He put his hands in the gloves, making sure he snapped the rubber on the top, creating an echo throughout the room. “I’m sure you can. I’m. Sure. You. Can.” He said, his voice lacking emotion, as he took the seat next to me.
Chapter 29
LOTUS
I had given him another week and as of today, I was completely and officially done with all things Beckett Fucking Cole. I was done sulking about him, wishing things were different when it was apparent that I was the only one who cared, who ever really cared. So, I was done with Beckett Fucking Cole. It had ended. Finalized. We had hit a road block.
Then why couldn't I seem to move off this couch?
Being over him was a lie I kept telling myself. The same lie I told Myra when she called me twenty times a day with her disgustingly chipper voice to talk about absolutely nothing. The same lie I plastered on my face each day I dragged myself into work to prepare bunches and bunches of flowers for people to send to those they loved. Don’t waste your money, ol’ chap. It wouldn't end well anyway.
My phone buzzed on the floor next to the couch and I ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. It rang again, and as much as I didn’t want to answer it, didn’t want to communicate, I knew Myra wouldn’t give up until she got her way. I reached down without looking, fumbling my hand on the ground until it hit my phone. I hit the green answer button and brought the phone up to my ear, not bothering to even say hello.
“Good moooorning, B.” Came the chipper sound of my friend’s voice.
“Hey.” I grumbled.
“It ends today, my friend.”
I tried to remember to have patience with her because she was my best friend and she’d been so tolerant with me but fuck, I didn't want to do this with her, now. “What ends today?”
“This sulky, poor me attitude.” She stated it as if she wasn't insulting me.
“I don’t have a poor me attitude.”
She laughed a bit and I was sure I felt a twitch by my eye. “So you admit you’re sulky then?”
I wouldn’t growl at my best friend, I swore I wouldn't. “Why are you calling this early in the morning?”
“It’s noon.” I pulled my phone away from my face and looked at the time. Huh, it was noon. How long had I been laying there? “And it’s Christmas Eve. So get up. Put on pants . . . clean pants that people wear in public, not Ben and Jerry stained pants that I know you have on right now. Be ready in fifteen, I’m coming over and I have plans.”
“You always have plans.” I grumbled.
“I will
drag you out of the apartment in your underwear if you aren’t ready, I kid you not.”
There was a click and I sighed heavily. The rebellious side of me wanted to refuse her demand and not get up, but the logical side of me knew she would storm in and pull me outside just as I was; looking like I hadn’t showered in a week or used a brush in a month. When was the last time I had showered anyway? I smelled my shirt and cringed. Maybe she was right, I needed out of this place.
I slowly dragged myself off my couch, took the empty pint of ice cream I had had for breakfast and tossed it in the trash, throwing my spoon in the sink and heading straight for the shower. It felt divine, like I was washing away my sorrows and rejuvenating my soul, although that could have possibly just been the feeling of washing away days of lazy pity grime.
My shower was quick but efficient and no sooner had I pulled on a clean pair of jeans and tossed on my cardigan, then Myra walked into my apartment, bearing two coffees and an aura of cheerfulness that I wasn’t sure I was completely ready to face.
“Don’t drag me out yet, please. I just want to brush my hair. Promise.” I sounded whiny, even to my own ears.
“Just toss it into a bun and let’s go. We have an appointment to make.”
“For what?”
She rolled her eyes and responded, “For a spa day. Obviously. Now hurry the fuck up, woman. You’re wasting daylight. It’s Christmas Eve and the spa closes early. If I miss getting my pedicure because you’re too slow to get us there on time, I will seriously spit in every coffee I give you for the rest of our lives.”
“You wouldn’t!” I challenged.
“Try me.” She countered.
I wasn’t going to push my luck. I did as she said, tossing my hair into a quick bun, I grabbed my purse and we headed out. The drive only took twenty minutes and when we arrived we were five minutes early, thank you very much. We decided to get facials first so we could sit with our masks on while our pedicures were in progress.
“So, are we over him?” Myra asked once we were lounging in our white terrycloth robes, getting our calves massaged.
I peeked out at her from the side of my eye. “Over whom?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You came to work smelling like the douche for weeks. Not to mention, you were always busy and you and I both know you only have two real friends, three tops. Let’s not even talk about all the eye fucking. So, I’m asking again. Are you over Beckett Fucking Cole?”
I bit my lip, trying to fight the watering in my eyes because I was stronger than that and I was sure tears were not good for the mask. “Yes.”
“Liar.”
“I can’t help it, okay? I really loved this one. This isn’t like the time I thought I loved the guy who worked in the butcher department at the grocery store. Or the time I was heartbroken because the captain of the football team picked Tina, the head cheerleader, over me. This is worse. So much worse, it just . . . hurts. It hurts so much, Myra. I told him I loved him.”
Her eyes grew wide and her whole body jolted in my direction. Ignoring the scowl from the pedicurist, she latched onto my forearm. “And?”
“He doesn’t love me back.” I forced out.
I heard a tsk sound, this time from my pedicurist, not hers. Nosey bitches. “I don’t believe you. I know he loves you. Ben knows he loves you. The whole fucking world can see it.”
“What do you mean Ben knows? And it’s true, babe. He didn’t say a damn word. Just let me leave.”
“We might have set you up a little. Water under the bridge now. You don’t need the bastard anyway. You have me.”
“Myra.”
“Lotus.”
I growled. “Tell me.”
“What’s there to tell? We just encouraged and nudged what we knew was going to happen anyway. No big deal.”
“Should I thank you both for getting my heart broken then?”
She sat back into her chair and huffed, “Look, you would have banged eventually, we just pushed it along. It’s not our fault it didn’t work. But you know what? Fuck him. We are not leaving this place until you forget about the bastard and are ready to be fun again.”
“I’m always fun.” I replied defensively.
“Sure you are, honey.” Myra patted my thigh lovingly. “Now sit back, relax. Live a little. Tonight, we are going out with Auggie and the boys from his shop. He’s buying. Let’s make ourselves look good for the lot of them, ‘kay?”
I crossed my arms like a child and huffed out a “Fine.” Then spent the rest of the afternoon getting pampered to the fullest with massages, saunas, paraffin wax hand treatments and of course, little sandwich triangles, of which I consumed a hundred and still wasn’t satisfied. When they asked what I wanted, I said it all, because let’s face it, when self-pity was being eliminated and one was going through the motions to regain confidence, money was no object. When they asked how I wanted my make-up . . . make it bold. When they asked how much hair to trim . . . chop it off. Then, in the end when Myra asked if I felt like a new woman, I inhaled deeply, turned to face the mirror and breathed, “I’ve never been better.” Because that mantra had to be true, my heart couldn’t withstand it not to be.
Chapter 30
BECKETT
I left Gruff Bastards with a renewed sense of urgency. I wanted nothing more than to get to Lotus and declare my heart hers, if she would have me, of course. The moment I pulled out of the parking lot, I put my phone on speaker and directed it to call her. The first call rang repeatedly and then went to voicemail, every call after that went straight to voicemail.
I didn’t expect much more than that, I guess. I probably deserved to get sent to voicemail after the way I treated her, but damn it, this was fucking important and I just wanted to hear her voice as I drove to her. I wanted to let her know I needed to see her in the worst possible way.
I arrived at her apartment just as the blue was fading from the sky and the blackness was creeping in. Her porch light was on and I prided myself that my constant nagging had paid off. I parked the truck in the usual spot, the sliver of asphalt under an oak tree that I had deemed my space, and jumped out of the truck, anxious to see her. I was at her door in a matter of seconds, knocking harder than was necessary, begging her to answer the door.
She didn’t answer.
I banged harder.
It wasn’t until I had been repeatedly pounding at her door that I took the time to look at my surroundings and realize her car wasn’t even in the lot, but Myra’s was. That meant whatever shenanigans Myra had talked her into today began with them carpooling in Lotus’ ride. I tried calling her one more time, hoping she would give up her stubbornness and answer, but she held strong, like I knew she would. Her stubborn way was one of the many reasons I loved her.
I loved her.
Shit, I could hardly believe I’d admitted it, but now that I had, it was all I wanted to say, nonstop, all the time. I wanted to say it to her before we fell asleep every night and wake her each morning with kisses, while whispering the words into her neck. I wanted her to know I loved her, every second of every day and I didn't want her to doubt it, not for a second that my love was true.
I leaned against her door, slowly sliding down until my ass hit the hard, crisp pavement. I brought my knees up and rested my elbows on them, using the support to cradle my head. She had to be home soon, I was positive of it, but I would wait as long as it took to tell her the truth, my whole truth.
I spent two hours alternating between panic, calling her, and mentally laying out everything I wanted . . . correction . . . needed to say to Lotus. Somewhere between all the alterations, my eyes began to grow heavy, and the next thing I knew, my shoulders were being shaken and I was startled awake, staring into those beautiful eyes I loved so much.
“Go home, Beck.” She stated emotionlessly.
I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes and staggered as I tried to stand. “I need to talk to you.”
“Don’t you think y
ou missed your chance? Two weeks. I gave you two weeks to show your face, and did you? No. You don’t get to waltz here on the day I decided I’m done. The day I washed away my sorrows for you in an attempt to move forward. No.”
I reached my hand out to her and she stepped back in an effort to avoid my touch. I pulled my hand away, stung by her rejection but not deterred. “Please, baby. I want to talk. I want to tell you everything.” She didn’t tell me no that time, but she didn’t tell me yes either. Instead, she stomped past me, pushing me aside with her shoulder as she struggled to get her key in the door. I moved to the side, granting her more light. I heard the deadbolt tumble and the knob click as she turned it. “Please. Just listen to me for a minute. Two, three tops.”
“No!” She hissed as she pushed her way inside her apartment, fully intending to slam the door on me.
I stuck my foot out, catching the door before it slammed, determined to be heard. “I wasn’t completely honest with you.” The words blurted from my mouth as fast as possible, “But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. It was all me, because I was scared. I was scared of how you made me feel, Lotus. Afraid of what it meant, but now . . . I’m just terrified of losing you.”
Her body shifted behind the door and I took it as a good sign. “I lied about Alexa. Maybe it was a lie by omission, but I knew I wasn’t telling you the whole truth because my feelings for you made me nervous and I felt guilty and ashamed.” She tried to shut the door again and I pushed my hand against the wooden door, preventing it from moving. “Ashamed of myself. Not of you, never of you.”
“I met Alexa young and I loved her. The moment I met her, I fell in love, and it was grand and it was wonderful and everything I ever wanted, until I dated her for a year. She changed. It was slow and gradual and by the time I realized it . . . I was committed. I didn’t know she had anything wrong, that as long as she was on her medicine, she would be fine. I met her at a good time, when she was strong and happy and full of life. The problem with her having manic depression was that when she felt good, nothing could touch her. Invincible, you know?”
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