Page 93 of Beneath Your Beautiful
“I need to go,” she said, cutting me off. “I’m glad Killian found someone who cares about him.”
Anna cut the call and I looked at Connor who was standing in the open doorway of Killian’s bedroom. “I didn’t even hear you come home.”
“I move like a ninja,” he joked. He ran his hand over his hair and let out a ragged breath. “What did she say?”
There was no point in pretending. He’d obviously heard my end of the conversation. “I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive him.”
He crossed the room in a few long strides and sat next to me on the bed. “I think he needs to find a way to forgive himself. People don’t always act the way we want. They don’t always say the words we want to hear. Sometimes…you just need to find a way to make your own peace with that.”
Connor’s face was sad, contemplative. He was speaking from experience. These guys had never had it easy. Abandoned by their mother. Abused by their father. Instinctively, I reached for his hand. He pulled me to my feet and into a hug. “You make him happy and you’ve given him something he’s never had,” he said, releasing me. “Don’t underestimate the power of love. He’ll be okay.”
My ringing phone interrupted my thoughts. “Hangover rating on a scale of one to ten,” Hailey said when I answered.
“Mine is on the low spectrum. I’ll go with a three.” Last night, Hailey, Ava, and I had a girls’ night out. It started with barbecue in a converted garage and ended with drinks at a bar that played nineties hip-hop. At two in the morning, Killian met us at the bar and chauffeured us home. No major incidents to report, thankfully. “How’s yours?”
“Not bad,” she said, sounding surprised.
“That’s because we were smart this time. The key is to pig out on ribs and all those sides we ate. It soaked up all the alcohol. We were so sensible. We should be commended, really.”
Killian snorted. I glared at him. “Baby, you were wasted.”
“I was not,” I said indignantly.
“You always come home, singing “Nasty Girl”?” Connor asked.
“Of course. Everyone loves The Notorious B.I.G.”
Hailey laughed at our banter. “Where are you?”
“Forever Ink. Killian needed someone to hold his hand. You know what a big baby he is.”
That earned me more snorts all around.
“Have you heard from Ava yet?” she asked.
“Uh, no.” I eyed Connor who was too busy breaking into a sweat and focusing on his masterpiece to notice. “She’s probably not on the low end of the scale.”
“Yeah, she was pretty wasted,” Hailey said. “Is Connor doing the tattooing?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Talk to you later. I need to get ready for work.”
After we hung up, I sent a quick text to Ava, asking how she was feeling. Last night, she went from happy drunk to crying drunk in a nanosecond, so maybe I should rethink the part about no major incidents. The reason for her tears was sitting directly across from me, his steady hand holding a tattoo machine.
Two minutes later, my phone rang, and this time it was Ava.
“Hey, Ava. Are you okay?”
She groaned. “Stop talking so loud.”
“Sorry,” I whispered but she probably couldn’t hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo machine and the rock music.
“Where are you?”
“Um, Forever Ink.”
“Oh.” Ava went silent for a few seconds. “In that case, I’ll talk to you later.”
