Page 40 of Hooking Up
"Yeah." Resenting your sibling is something I understand well. "Less now that she's accepted Brendon and Kaylee."
She nods with understanding. A million years ago, she dated Brendon. Slept with him. Whatever.
I doubt she remembers his sister's best friend. Even if she remembers Emma well.
Fuck. That really was a mess.
At least it's out in the open now.
"She doesn't stay with the other guys?" she asks.
"I don't think so." Dean's older brother, Ryan, is the fourth and final shop co-owner. They don't exactly get along, but they do love each other. And they manage to work together. They don't get this level of frustration.
Not that I discuss it.
"Hmm." She moves into the kitchen and pulls the fridge open. "You think maybe Emma has a thing for you?"
"Emma would tell me."
"Maybe."
"I'm gonna shower. I'll order in dinner. What do you want?"
"I don't mind cooking."
"No. You're staying here until you leave in the morning." Safeway sells every kind of booze. I don't trust Bree to—the sentence ends there. I don't trust Bree. "Pick out a movie. We'll watch something."
"Anything in particular?"
"Anything." I move into my bedroom and drop my cell on my desk, next to my sketchbook.
I'm not artsy, really. I got into tattooing more for the thrill of holding a gun than the thrill of my art on someone's body.
But I take pride in my shit.
I work hard to hone my skills. Figure drawing classes. Sketches. Jumping on trends Ryan abhors. He's still scoffing at watercolor tattoos.
I flip my sketchbook open to the latest page. Pick up my pen. DrawAm I A Sucker or Am I Doing the Right Thing?in big bold letters.
It's right next to my mockup for Iris's tattoo.
She wanted simple text, but I wanted to try adorning it. There's one with hearts. One with flowers. One dripping blood.
She loved them all.
But, still, she wanted simple text.
She thought she was breaking my heart rejecting my mock-ups.
But I don't let my ego get wrapped up in this shit.
There's only one thing that breaks my heart.
And I really am fucking done.
I move into the shower. Strip. Run the faucet hot.
The water washes away the day.
But that voice is still echoing around my head.
Fuck, I'm never getting close to an addict again.
To anyone.
