Page 107 of Under the Ink

Like a true best friend, Mickey wasn’t going to just give in to his simple explanation. “Why?”

“Because,” Sage said, standing up and walking to the fridge, “I’m hoping your stories will convince me that Naomi wasn’t the one for me…” Right now, he was convinced otherwise, and that made his head just as fucked up as hers.

Grabbing four beers, Sage turned around, bringing each of his friends their own bottle—and, even in his state, he managed to do it without dropping any.

But, as he sat down, he could tell from each of their expressions that they understood what he wanted. Johnny said, “All right. I can start. I pretty much knew Katie was the one back in high school, but it wasn’t till…”

IN THE SKY SOMEWHERE OVER COLORADO

SEPTEMBER 10

“I’m sorry. What?” Naomi asked, looking up from her lap. Thus far, during the whole flight, she’d had her head down. Although she wouldn’t have cared if she’d gone to sleep, that wasn’t the reason for bowing her head.

Instead, she’d wanted to avoid eye contact.Humancontact, to be precise.

And here was this insistent flight attendant asking if she wanted a drink.

Eye contact or not, the answer washell, yeah.

Even though she knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

“And for you, sir?” the woman asked the person on the side of her while Naomi bowed her head again. That guy seemed eager to connect withanyone, and she wasn’t in a state of mind to be that person. Hopefully, once the flight attendant took care of him, he’d talk to the man at the window.

Meanwhile, Naomi tried to wrap her head around it all—not just the past few weeks, but the past few months. The entire tour. When she’d taken the job, she’d had such great plans to fix her life—but this whole tour couldn’t have gone worse.

If she’d had any doubts…she was cutting again. That was a sure sign that she’d leaped backwards.

Worse than that, she’d hurt the one person she’d managed to connect with—reallyconnect with—as an adult.

As a lover.

Possibly as a soulmate.

And maybe she hadn’t raped him, hadn’t stolen something from him, but she’d harmed him just the same, cut at his soul.

Meaning she was ultimately no better than the Jacob Goodmans of the world.

And she didn’t know how to make it up to him. If she even could.

What sucked was, after all that, she realized that coming home was actually for the best. How stupid it had been to think that aplacecould help her…like there was a magical city out there that could make everything all better. As much as she hated Winchester, she realized now that it hadn’t been the cause of all her problems—even if it was the kind of place where assholes flourished.

And none of that was sweet Sage’s fault.

Bad things had happened to her in the past. Bad people had harmed her.

What had been happening recently…that was all on Naomi. She’d been sabotaging herself. Maybe Andy’s unwanted advances and engaging with Sage had triggered what was in her head—but she had done all this shit to herself.

And she needed to fix things…fixherself…or at least try.

When the tears began to fall again, she swiped them off her cheeks with her arm—but they got so bad, she needed tissue.

And privacy.

In the cramped bathroom, Naomi let the tears fall unfettered.

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