Inked Hearts

by Lindsay Detwiler

  A moment of silence. I can’t gauge him or what he’s thinking. I continue the monologue I know I need to get out.

  “Jesse, I like you. I can’t deny it. But I didn’t come here for a new relationship. The truth is, I’ve been there and done that. I was in love for six years with a man I thought I’d be with forever. I gave him my heart. I never thought he’d betray me. But he did. And so when I came here, I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again.”

  Tears are now trickling.

  “It’s okay. I understand. I get it, I do. I haven’t had a great time with love either. It’s a risk. Such a risk.” He exhales, the words sounding like a chore. Still, I can see on his somber face that he understands where I’m coming from.

  “It is. I just don’t want to get consumed again.”

  “But that’s the thing, Avery,” he says. The sound of my name from his lips jolts me out of my tears. I turn, the sun peeking through the clouds a little more as we stare at each other. “I’m already consumed.”

  My heart slams into my chest, a suffocating but also energizing feeling pulsing through my veins. These are confessional words I didn’t expect to hear. These are words that certainly contradict my “no love” vow. However, as scared as I am, as adamant about not falling in love as I thought I was, the feeling in my chest tells me one more thing—whether I want to admit it or not, my heart craved these words from Jesse.

  As I try to acclimate to the words he’s just spoken, Jesse continues his own monologue, one very different than I’d expected. “Look, I’ve had my share of shitty relationships. I’ve seen that love doesn’t always work out. First, I saw it with my mom burning my dad like she did. And then I had a relationship I thought would last forever. It turned out to be a disaster too. I told myself I wouldn’t let myself get roped into a relationship again. I told myself I didn’t need love. And then you walked into my shop.”

  “Jesse, I—”

  He interrupts me. “Let me finish. You walked into my shop, and I was consumed by you. Not just physically, but just everything about you. From that first time sitting at Midsummer Nights to our walk on the beach to our kiss, I knew there was something different about you. I know it hasn’t been long, and I know I shouldn’t fall this hard so fast. I’m still scared, Avery. But that kiss yesterday, well, it made me think maybe it’s okay to be a little scared. It made me feel like it’s worth it. You’re worth the risk.”

  I want to argue. I want to get up and run away. I want to resist those green eyes, that soft look.

  But when Jesse’s lips find mine this time, I let him take the lead. It’s a strong kiss filled with all our floating emotions—lust, passion, and most of all, fear. We’re two dilapidated people with two scarred hearts. The pain of our collective pasts might be too much for one couple to handle. We might drown or at least be swept far from the safe shores we’re used to.

  His hand finds my hair, and I melt, right into the sand beneath me.

  I’m still scared as hell. I’m scared because it’s too soon to let my heart find love again. I know I should let it breathe. I’m scared that I’ll get hurt. I’m scared that, just like last time, things will seem perfect and then they’ll end with my heart being chopped by the axe of unfaithfulness, of betrayal.

  But, as the kiss sends a jolt right through me, warming me in all the right ways, I’m also scared of saying “no” to this feeling. I’m scared of letting him go over fear of what might not happen.

  So, for the second time, I let Jesse Pearce’s kiss ignite me, the conflagration building between our hearts hot enough to scorch the sand beneath us.

  The kiss burns.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “But you know I like purple.”

  “Purple’s too innocent. Red says, ‘Come and get me.’ Red says, ‘I’m forgetting him.’ Trust me.”

  Reed and Jodie are arguing in the living room over her shirt. She’s already had Alexander do her hair and makeup—Lysander had him do a house call since this is quite the emergency, in his words. She looks stunning, a bold smoky eye screaming from her face. Now they’ve just got to work on the outfit.

  “Avery, tell her. Doesn’t the red one look better?” Reed asks. I’m standing in my doorway, a skintight black dress clinging to me. This was also a Reed find. He insisted that a night out with Jesse Pearce meant I needed to look a little badass. Thus, he’s added a studded bracelet and some gladiator sandals. I feel a bit punk and a bit silly, but Alexander, Reed, and Lysander assured me I look like sex walking.

  Whatever “sex walking” means or looks like. Besides, it’s not like I’m ready for sex with anyone tonight.

  “I do like the red, Jodie. But I think you should wear what you want. This is your night.”

  “Yeah, some night. The sad, single Jodie needs an entourage to escort her out so she doesn’t repulse men into other women’s arms.”

  “Stop it right now,” Lysander said. “He’s trash. Worse than trash. He’s a flea climbing on the trash. Now just trust us. We’re going to help you have fun. You’ll see. It’s better without that boring yogi man. Tree pose? Please. So overrated. We need to find you someone who can actually show you a good time.”

  “If you say so,” Jodie says, looking to me now for help. I just shrug.

  “So where is that sexy hunk of yours, Avery?” Reed asks me as Jodie heads to her room to change her shirt.

  “He should be here any minute.”

  “I think it’s so great you’re moving on in the love life department. See, we told you that you just needed a new haircut,” he says, winking at Alexander.

  “What can I say? I’m just a regular little matchmaker. No one can resist my hairstyles.”

  The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” Reed says. “I need to eye up Avery’s man candy, make sure he coordinates with her.”

  “I’m wearing black. What’s there to coordinate?”

  “How do you women manage? I swear. You girls should just hire me to be your stylist. Honestly.” He rushes to the door. I shake my head. I seriously don’t know how you couldn’t coordinate with black.

  Jesse’s at the door. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a black muscle shirt, and a royal blue button-up. He’s also wearing sneakers. He looks sophisticated somehow despite his unsophisticated combination.

  “Perfect,” Reed says, appraising his outfit. “You two are going to look so hot together.”

  I get ready to jump in and save Jesse, a little embarrassed that Reed is appraising his outfit. But Jesse honestly doesn’t seem to mind.

  I step away from the doorway of my room and saunter closer to him.

  Jesse doesn’t take his eyes off me. It’s like that Cinderella moment every woman dreams of, the one where the sexy guy seems to only notice you.

  I’ve rarely had that moment. I had it on my wedding day and once during my honeymoon. But that Cinderella moment, that look, faded with time. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.

  Standing before Jesse, my heart pounds. I’m getting that moment again.

  “You look gorgeous,” he says, a whisper escaping his lips. I notice Reed and Lysander whispering in the kitchen, but I don’t turn to look.

  All I look at is Jesse, the man I get to be with tonight.

  As we get ready to head to the limo Reed rented for us—he said if you’re going to party, you need to do it right—I lean into Jesse.

  “You’re right. It’s worth the risk.”

  He kisses my neck, and I feel the melting feeling again. “Damn right it is.”

  “Get in, lovebirds. We have some partying to do,” Lysander says, ushering us into the limo as Alexander passes around champagne.

  Jodie’s already downing a glass as we get in. “Well, Alexander, looks like you and me are the fifth and sixth wheels. You sure you’re gay?”

  “Totally sure.”

  “Damn.” She downs another swallow of her champagne as the limo pulls out, taking us out for a night that’s sure to go down in the books.<
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  ***

  “Dance with me?” Jesse asks as I toss back another shot.

  “I’m not a great dancer.”

  “And you think I am?” He grins. “Let’s do another shot, and we’ll both feel like dancing queens.”

  “Another shot? Sounds fabulous,” Jodie proclaims. She’s already had quite a few. I’m pretty sure Darren is nowhere near her mind, judging by the way she’s hanging on the arm of some tall and tanned guy. I smile. Maybe Reed and Lysander do know what they’re doing.

  We order another round and then head to the dance floor, my head spinning just a little. I’ve passed on a few rounds, vowing not to wake up with a hangover tomorrow.

  I’ve also vowed not to let things get out of hand. The more time I spend with Jesse, the more likely it becomes. No matter how hard I want to fight these feelings, no matter how much I tell myself not to get hurt, I can’t resist him. Those eyes, that smile.

  But more than that, it’s who I am when I’m with him. It’s the fact I can be the rational, math-loving Avery. I can be the Avery who plans out her outfits for the week and who has exactly one sugar packet in my iced tea, no exceptions. I can be the somewhat-of-a-worrier Avery. He likes me for who I am.

  With him, I’m still the same Avery—just better. He makes me want to let go a little, to live a little more. He makes me believe maybe I can pursue this whole art thing, even on the side. He makes me want to try fried pickles and to say to hell with fear, flying in the clouds. With him, I want to be me but braver. With him, I have more fun. With him, I feel like I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.

  So as we dance on the floor, the pumping music making me shake my hips a little sassier, his hands wandering a little lower, I relax into us. I relax into the idea of Jesse, of starting over with love, of opening my heart again. I give in to the idea that this could work.

  “I’m falling for you,” I whisper into his ear, a sultry confidence partially emblazoned by the booze in my bloodstream and partially by the revelation that I’m willing to let him in.

  He pulls back, those green eyes piercing mine with such an intent stare. “I’m falling for you, too.”

  Our lips meet, and I succumb to the electricity between us, the dancing couples around us fading away. It’s just Jesse and me, two wandering souls brought together, the sweaty atmosphere only heightening the pulsating in my veins.

  Things can’t get any better. I feel a soul-defining verification that this is exactly how things are supposed to be. With his hands on my waist, I feel like maybe this is how life was supposed to go, like all the pain it took to get to this point may just have been worth it.

  But before I can float away in a rosy bubble of bliss, my perfect moment is popped by the sound of a sultry voice that isn’t my own.

  “Jesse? Oh my God, is that you?” the voice says. I turn to my right to see the girl it belongs to.

  It’s a busty blonde who looks like she stepped right off the catwalk.

  And with the sight of her, with her approach, my confidence starts to fizzle. I take a step back, as if to physically recognize what my heart is seeing.

  Love is never easy, and no matter how much verification you have that it’s for real, there’s always something strutting in the way.

  ***

  Jesse stands for a long moment as if he’s not sure what to do. He looks at me and then at the model of a woman before us. “Kat? What are you doing here?”

  “Came back in town for the weekend. It’s so good to see you,” she says, leaning in to touch his arm. They’re yelling over the music, and it feels like I’m in some horrific teen movie from the 90s. I stand gracelessly, appraising the situation, trying to read body language and gauge who she was to him, or who she is to him.

  Fear creeps back in, taking icy hold of my veins, of my lungs.

  But before panic can set in, before the things I felt seeing Chris and Nora come back full swing, Jesse speaks up, his voice lacking the warm quality I’ve come to love. “Well, have a good night,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the bar. His words are frigid, and his movements scream he’s uncomfortable. I follow, but not before turning to eye the woman who just interrupted our moment.

  Kat stands in the middle of the dance floor, hand on her tattooed hip, which is visible since she’s wearing a crop top. It’s a heart—simple, sleek, and vulnerable.

  “Can we step outside?” Jesse asks me, whispering in my ear. He looks flustered, and I’m terrified as to why. Is this going to be where it all ends? Is this going to be my reality check, the moment that defines my life as “forever alone?” Just when I thought I could open my heart up again, it’s cracked in pieces once more. I don’t think I can do this.

  I put on my brave face, however, and nod. Jodie’s sitting and giggling wildly at a table full of sexy men, and Lysander and Reed are kissing in a corner nearby. They’re too drunk and having too much fun to notice my mini crisis. I’m on my own.

  Hand in hand, we stroll out of the club and amble toward the sand, the water’s rustling not calming me in any way. Jesse leads me to a bench and pulls me down. I sit, uncomfortable in what’s about to happen and in the knowledge that this could be where it all ends.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m acting strange. I just had to get out of there.”

  “So I’m guessing Kat and you were a couple?” I ask gently, trying to mask the fear in my voice.

  “Yeah. Years ago. She was my business partner at J & J’s.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He nods, looking at me. “I’m sorry, Avery. Please understand. It’s just—she was a huge part of my life for a while. Things were serious.”

  I nod. I can appreciate that. I think about how I’d feel seeing Chris tonight. You can move on from the past, but you can’t forget completely. When your heart feels emotions as strong as love, it’s not like you can just erase that.

  “You loved her.”

  “I did. For a long time.”

  I try to tell myself it’s okay, that this doesn’t mean anything. I tell myself not to cry. But deep down, the disappointment is creeping in. The realization that love is a minefield settles into my heart, and suddenly the sultry glances and the electrifying kisses start to fade away.

  I look into Jesse’s green eyes and I still see the potential for love. But I also see pain, the pain that will be mine if this doesn’t work out.

  Because, I’m starting to believe again, love never really works out.

  Jesse sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin our night over this. Honestly, it’s in the past. It’s just… she really burnt me. And when I see her, it just brings up feelings of such anger. I don’t want to be mad anymore. I want to move on past it. But when I see her and remember what she did, I just get this anger in my chest.”

  “What happened?”

  He looks down at his feet. “Things were going well with us, but as I told you, the business was struggling a little at first. Running a business is stressful and hard. Kat decided she wanted a different lifestyle. She didn’t want to be counting every dollar hoping for a miracle. She wanted a bigger life than I could give her, and she wasn’t willing to wait and see how long it would take for that to happen. So, one day, she picked up and left. She took half the money, took half my stuff, and checked out of our life together. She just left me a note that said she needed a change and she was sorry.”

  I reach for his arm now as he clenches his jaw. Behind his anger, I see something he isn’t saying.

  I see the pain of rejection. I see the little boy who wondered why his mom up and left. I see the slap in the face it must have been when Kat repeated his past.

  I see the fear that isn’t so different from the fear in my heart.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, I should’ve been used to it. I saw what my dad went through. I don’t know why I thought it would be different.”

  We sit now, lost in our individual memories and regrets. We sit, two adults
scorned by love and by people we trusted. We sit, two broken people unsure and unsteady of where we should go next.

  “Jesse, look. I meant what I said. I’m falling for you. But maybe we’re not ready. Maybe we should slow down. I’m scared.”

  He pulls me up from the bench, putting a finger to my lips and then kissing my cheek. “I’m scared too. I’m scared shitless, if I’m being honest. I’m scared to love you. I’m scared this won’t work out and I’ll be lost again. But you know what I’m more scared of?”

  I just look at him.

  “Letting you go. Letting the past get in the way of this. I don’t want our pasts to be the line in the sand between us. It’s scary as hell giving in to this feeling. But I think it’s scary to let this go,” he says, pulling me into him. “I’m sorry I got distracted. Please know, though, she’s the past. You’re my present.”

  I smile, the tension floating away. “The present,” I reaffirm. He’s right. This is scary as hell. But with his arms around me, I feel more at home for the first time in a long time. I feel like maybe scary is survivable.

  “When I was little, I was terrified of the water,” he says as we kick off our shoes and toss them on the bench before heading down to the water’s edge. The tide is high, and the waves plummet into one another, the sound echoing in the night. “The first time we came to the beach, I cried when my dad tried to get me into the waves.”

  “Some beach boy,” I say, grinning, as we get closer to the edge.

  “You know what my dad did?” he says.

  “What?”

  “He threw me in. He tossed me in, just like that.”

  We’re at the water’s edge now, the darkness only interrupted by some streetlights on the sidewalk way behind us, and the full moon. It’s a little eerie out here now, the stars and the moon our only company. It’s calming, too, in an odd way.

  We stand for a moment, the water lapping against our toes.

  “Will you jump in with me?” he asks, turning now, holding both hands out.

  I breathe in the salty night air, thinking about the question. It’s dark, and it’s scary. The water is probably going to get rough along the way, and it’s shockingly cold.