by Anna Brooks
Unfortunately, her restaurant is locked up, and her car’s gone, so I hop in my truck and head to Brad’s house. I need to find her and make it right. I can’t have this sweet woman turn sour because of me. Once again, I’ve managed to fuck everything up. But if there’s anyone who will give me her address, it’s him.
* * *
“No.”
“Kenny, I’m not asking you.” I grind my molars together and bang the back of my head against the wall. “I need to talk to her.”
“No,” he shouts. “She’s my best friend, and if she doesn’t want to talk to you, I’m not going to betray her trust and give you her address.”
“Fuck.” I squeeze my fist, and Brad smiles at me in sympathy from the couch across the room. “Just fucking tell me!”
“Vaughn,” Brad warns.
“Dude, you just met her. Why are you acting all weird about her?” Kennedy wraps an arm around Brad when he sits on the couch.
Brad’s not technically a member of my family, because I really have no family. But still, he knew what happened and didn’t judge me for it. He was the only one to actually talk to me about it. I appreciate him not blabbing my personal shit to his boyfriend. It’s not something I talk about. Not something I try to think about.
“I’ll give you her number,” Brad says.
“No, you won’t.” Kennedy looks at him like he’s insane.
“If she really doesn’t want to talk to him, she can block his number. He’s a good guy, Ken. I promise he won’t hurt her. He’d never hurt a woman, ever.”
Kennedy looks unconvinced but relents.
“Look, man. I started off on the wrong foot with her, and I just need to make it right.” I have to make it right.
“Fine.” He stomps over to the kitchen while Brad texts me her number.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, indicating I received it, and I silently thank him then begin to walk out.
“Vaughn?” Brad calls.
“Yeah?” I stop with my hand on the knob.
“Just . . . tread lightly.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
I drive fast to get home, and as soon as I get in my apartment, I sit on the couch and dial her number.
After the second ring, she picks up. “Hello?” She sounds . . . hopeful, excited.
“Rayne?”
“Bryan?”
Who the fuck is Bryan? “Uh, no. It’s Vaughn.” She stays silent for a moment, and I let out a breath before continuing. “Listen, I need to apologize to you. I don’t know what the hell is going on between us, but I don’t want to ruin it by being a dick, okay?”
Her sigh is one of irritation, not the same as when she answered. “We don’t have to do this. There isn’t anything between us to ruin, Vaughn.”
I want there to be, dammit. And I know there is, so I need to wait for her to realize it, then I will. “There isn’t?”
“There can’t be.” Hesitation. I hear it.
“We can’t even be friends? It’d be nice if the person who made my lunch every day didn’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she whispers.
Now’s about the time I hand over my man card. “Can we just start over?”
“Sure.” She answers immediately.
I’m surprised she gave in so easy. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. I mean. We can be friends, right? We should be, because we work next to each other, and we have mutual friends. There’s nothing wrong with two people becoming friends.”
The sexual tension is gonna suck, but I can control myself. She acts like her face doesn’t flush when she looks at me. Or like I don’t see her eyes trailing down my body. If she were anyone else, I’d have already had her then disappeared out of her life. So for the first time in forever, I’m going to be just friends with a woman. I’m going to try, at least. But my hope is that we can eventually be more because I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want her. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t have her. For whatever reason, though, I’m certain I want to be around her . . . she makes me fuckin’ happy.
“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night, Rayne.”
Chapter 5
Rayne
I hang up the phone with a smile on my face, but when I realize what I’m doing, I press my lips together. It’s okay for me to have a friend, right? Bryan would be okay with that. I already have Kenny and Brad, so what’s another male friend? I can do that. Some days, it’s hard for me to admit how lonely I am, but lately, it’s been getting worse.
Kennedy and Brad have been harping on me to get out there and live my life. To stop letting the past consume me so much that I don’t enjoy the present. They try to tell me I’m getting old, but I’m only twenty-two years old. I know they’re just saying that to get under my skin, so that I’ll give in and move on. It’s unbelievably difficult to do, though, when your future is so bleak and the life you dreamed of, or at least thought it was what you wanted, gets ripped from you.
When I take the last swallow of wine out of my glass, I get off the couch and make my way to the bathroom to take a shower. By the time I get out, the moon has risen. I leave my hair wet, put on a pair of pajamas, and climb into bed. My phone rings and Kennedy’s beaming smile illuminates the screen before I accept the call.
“Hey!”
“I’m sorry.” He squeaks.
“For what?”
“Giving Vaughn your number. Well, I didn’t, but Brad did, and I didn’t stop him.”
“It’s okay.” I sit up and walk to my window to look out at the small pond behind my house. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, Rainey girl. I’m alone.” His sympathetic tone makes my eyes burn with unshed tears.
I take a deep breath and tell him what I’ve been afraid to say out loud. “I forgot what he looked like.”
“Oh, honey. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I was talking to Vaughn and kind of got lost in his eyes for a second, and I forgot Bryan’s eyes, his face. I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a human being, Rayne. It’s been two years. I understand that you loved him, but you can’t stop living because he’s not anymore.”
“He could be!” I yell. “They never found his body. He could still be out there somewhere, and I promised I’d wait for him.”
“He’s gone, Rainey. It’s okay to move on.”
“No, it’s not . . . I promised him. I promised, Kennedy. I never say something I don’t mean. Never.” Tears now flow freely from my eyes, and I grab a tissue from my nightstand to dry them.
“He wouldn’t want this for you. God, Rayne,” he shouts. “He wasn’t serious. He’d want you to be happy. Do you really think he’d want this for you?”
Kenny doesn’t know the real Bryan. He doesn’t know the things that went on between us. He doesn’t know. Nobody knows. “He didn’t want me to be with anyone else.” I want you to wait for me, Rayne. I don’t know how I’d survive if you weren’t here for me. I couldn’t live without you. I can’t live without you; you’re my whole life.
“And you’re thinking about being with Vaughn.”
“No,” I gasp. “No, I just. I umm . . .”
“You’re attracted to him.”
“He’s very attractive.”
“He is.” A purr comes out of his throat, and I can picture him winking at me.
“Eww. He’s going to be your family. That’s gross.” I laugh.
He chuckles too but quiets down after a second. “It’s really okay, Rayne. I promise you that it’s okay. Bryan’d want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy with the memories. I can live off those, right?”
“You know how much I love you . . . but honey, you were only with him for two years before he disappeared. That’s not enough memories to survive a lifetime on.”
“I want it to be.”
“It’s not.” He sighs.<
br />
“Vaughn and I agreed to just be friends,” I tell Kenny to convince him—and myself—that it’s platonic.
“Can’t wait to see how that works out.” I can picture him rolling his eyes.
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “There will be nothing to see.”
“Sure, Rainey girl.”
He doesn’t believe me any more than I do, but I need to try. Kenny has been so busy with Brad, and I hate being the third wheel all the time.
I finally give in and tell him good night when I realize the conversation isn’t going anywhere. It was nice to tell him about my fear from earlier today and have him assure me it’s okay. Before I go to sleep, I have one more call to make.
“Hey, it’s Bryan. I can’t answer because I’m doing something awesome, so leave a message.”
I normally talk right away, afraid that my message will cut off if I talk too long. But right now, I don’t really know what to say. “Hi. So I guess I’m just calling to say good night. I hope you had a good day. Please call me. I really need to talk to you.”
I hang up, and after leaving Bryan a voicemail, I hold my phone against my chest and pray now more than ever that he calls me back.
* * *
The lunch rush is crazy today, and as I’m clearing dishes off a table, the bell rings on the door. Before turning around to greet the customer, I close my eyes for a moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and the dream I had about Vaughn holding me in bed made me want to vomit when I woke up this morning.
“Hey there.” I turn and find the exact set of eyes that haunted my dreams staring at me.
He doesn’t say anything but looks around then points at a table. “Can I sit there?”
Why am I speechless? Why the hell can’t I talk? Why do l lose my resolve when I’m in visual vicinity of him? I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
“Cool, thanks.”
I scramble to the back and set the dirty dishes down. Polly is taking a quick five-minute break for a phone call, so I rush back out to the front, cash someone out, and then head over to Vaughn’s table with a menu.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Vaughn. I own the tattoo shop next door.”
I smile when I realize what he’s doing. Starting over. When I slide my hand into his, I pretend to ignore how good it feels. “I’m Rayne. Can I get you something to eat?”
“Just give me the daily special with some water, please.”
“Got it.” I grab the menu off the table. “Be back in a few.”
He winks at me. Before I head to the back, I check on my other tables and then go make his sandwich. When I set it on the table, along with his water, I don’t have any time to talk and I proceed to run around like a mad woman. Without my mom and dad here, I’m doing the job of three people.
The rush finally slows, and when I make my way out of the back, Vaughn’s table is vacant. Polly catches me looking at it. “He paid and left about five minutes ago.”
“Oh, okay.” It shouldn’t upset me that he left without saying goodbye, but it does.
When we’ve cleared all the tables and the day is done, I lock the door behind Polly and count the drawer. He wanted to start over, and I agreed. But at the same time, I don’t. I just plain want him, and it hurts that I can’t have him. It hurts that I have to hide who I really am around him. As I’m putting the money into the thick envelope, I grab my phone and shoot Vaughn a text.
Me: I’m about to head out.
Vaughn: B there in 5
Me: Thx.
I scroll some stupid news site while I wait for him. He knocks on the door, and I grab my things and meet him on the sidewalk after locking up.
He takes a step closer to me, like he’s going to touch me, but then pauses and steps back. “I was worried you would take the whole starting over thing too literally. I’m glad you called me.”
“I didn’t call. I texted.”
He huffs out a breath. “Smart-ass.”
“Are you done for the day?”
“No. I have a few more appointments.”
“You the only one who works there?” I unlock my car and get in.
“Yeah.” He stands at the open door with a hand on top of my vehicle. “I’ve had other people work with me before, but it never ends well.”
“Why is that?”
He contemplates my question. “I don’t really know. It just never worked out. I guess I’m too much of a perfectionist to have my name attached to something I didn’t do. Because if you work at my shop, then your tattoos represent me. Ya know?”
“I can understand that.”
“I thought you might.”
I don’t want him to leave yet. “Do you ever get to take a vacation?”
“Why? Do you want to go somewhere with me?”
“Full of yourself much?”
He shrugs. “I can do whatever the hell I want. Perks of being the boss. I try to take off Sundays, but that’s about as much of a vacation as I’ve taken.”
My engine purrs as I start it, but I can’t think of anything else to say that doesn’t make me sound desperate.
“Speaking of, I’ve gotta get back to my client.”
“Oh, my God! You left someone in there?”
“Yeah, no biggie. See ya tomorrow.” He shuts my door and waits for me to drive away before he walks back to his shop.
I blare my music to avoid the thought running through my head on the way home. As I’m pulling into my driveway, my parents’ ringtone blasts through my car. I click the Bluetooth button.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey. How are you?” my mom yells over the wind.
“I’m fine. How are you? Are you guys having fun?”
“Yes! I finally have reception, so I wanted to call you, but it’s so windy I can barely hear you.”
“It’s okay. Everything here is good.”
“What?”
“Everything here is fine,” I yell back.
“Good. Daddy says hi.”
“Tell him I said hi back.”
“I’m going to go. I’ll call you when it’s not so loud. Love you.”
“Okay, bye. Love you, too.”
I hang up and go inside then order some Chinese. The night goes by uneventfully, and before I go to bed for the night, I call Bryan.
“Hey, it’s Bryan. I can’t answer because I’m doing something awesome, so leave a message.”
“Hi. My parents just called. They’re still on their cruise.” I pause as I wait to think of something else to say. “Well, I’m really tired. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
* * *
“Do you only do tattoos?” I’m sitting on the leather couch up front while Vaughn is behind the desk eating the sandwich I brought over for him. This past week, he’s come over daily for lunch, but when I didn’t see him today, I freaked out a little bit. Seeing him every day makes me really happy. It’s the damn highlight of my day, quickly replacing hearing Bryan’s voice every day.
Vaughn answered my text right away and just said he was swamped. So since we didn’t have any customers at two, I sent Polly home and closed early for the day and came here while he had a couple of free minutes.
“Yeah. Why? You want a piercing?”
“Psh, no way.”
“You thinking about getting a tattoo again?”
“I never said I wanted one in the first place.” When I told him that I didn’t want one, I was lying. There is one thing I would like to get. Something I’ve wanted for years. “But yeah, kind of,” I admit when he rolls his eyes at me.
Wrinkles appear on his forehead when he raises his brows. “Really?”
“Yes.” I sigh.
“What do you want?”
“A flower.”
He doesn’t laugh like I thought he would, since it’s so cliché. “Which flower?”
“Bird of Paradise.” I want something that means freedom, something that reminds me it’s okay
to be free and stop carrying so much baggage on my shoulders.
“Nice.” He tosses his garbage away. “Where do you want it?”
I point at my hip. “I want it to start here.”
“That’d look good. I can draw you something up if you want.”
“Oh. I’m not going to get it. I just—”
“Why not? You afraid of how much it’ll hurt?”
Again, he surprises me because I’m expecting some smart-ass comment, but he doesn’t deliver that at all. “It’s going to hurt; I won’t lie. But if it’s something that means something to you, if it’s something you want to look at every day in the mirror and have it remind you of . . . whatever that art means to you, you’ll push through the pain.”
I wish he’d stop being so perfect. It’s making it hard to stick to this whole friends only thing. “What about you?”
“What about me?” He comes and sits next to me on the couch, and I turn my body so I’m facing him.
“How come that arm doesn’t have any, but the other arm is covered?”
The expression on his face changes, but I can’t quite tell to what. It’s almost as if he looks pained.
“I have my reasons. Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
“Okay.”
He reaches out and grabs my hand then tugs a little. “Come back here; let me see how big you want this thing.”
“Oh, no. I’m not really going to do it. At least, not yet.”
“I’m not doing it right now, but I’d love to draw something. You don’t have to, though.”
“Okay, I suppose it won’t hurt anything to see what it could look like.”
I follow him to the back room, and he points at the table. “Have a seat.”
After hopping up, I remove my purse from across my body and set it next to me.
He stands in front of me and makes it nearly impossible not to smell him. Touch him. “Lie down and turn to the side a little.” I have to close my eyes for a moment, so I stop looking at him and hoping he’ll read my mind.
When I don’t twist enough, he uses his hands and rolls me over more until my side is facing up. So gentle, but I know if he put a little muscle into it, he could have me in any position he wants. Any position I want. On my stomach. On my knees. “How far down do you want it to go?”
