Page 44 of Beautiful Lies
Zeke laughed. “I know. Juicy. Moist. Nibbles.”
I shuddered. “Stop torturing me with your word porn.” I jumped up from my chair and pulled on my white cardigan, doing up the tiny pearl buttons then shouldered my bag. “I’m out of here.”
“Something I said?” Zeke asked, taking my seat and rolling it in front of the desk.
“Somewhere I need to be.” I didn’t know Connor’s schedule. I’d probably catch him in the middle of tattooing. It had been years since I’d watched him work. But I used to love it. Before I left, I filled Zeke in on everything I’d done today. Paid invoices. Updated our social media. Booked a Christmas party for a corporate law firm.
“You’re a star,” he said.
“I shine bright,” I agreed, happy with the way things had turned out with me and Zeke. It was like we’d never hooked up. We’d gone right back to being friends and colleagues with no awkwardness whatsoever. If only the rest of my life could be that simple.
“Love the hair, by the way,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he typed an email.
“They say blondes have more fun. Thought I’d test that theory again.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
I thought about the near-orgasm Connor gave me at the dinner table two nights ago. And the teasing kiss in the bathroom. He’d left me wanting more. On purpose. We couldn’t do that anymore. From now on, I wouldn’t allow myself to cross the lines of friendship. “Early days. But so far, so good.”
“I’m digging the Granny chic style,” he said.
I looked down at my white chiffon midi-skirt, black tights, and Doc Martens, not sure if that was a compliment or not. On my way out, I picked up a taco from Jimmy’s truck and asked him to put it in a to-go container. Carnitas was Connor’s favorite. Maybe a food donation would soften the blow.
On the fifteen-minute walk to Forever Ink, I made a mental inventory of how I could help Connor. I knew Jared used the same accounting software we used at the bar. I could help him with that and organize the office for him. I could set up an Instagram account for the shop, something I’d encouraged Jared to do ages ago, but he’d never done. The shop was open one to nine, seven days a week. Fifty-six hours a week plus the extra hours for cleaning the shop and sterilizing the equipment. On top of that, he’d have to pay invoices, do the inventory and ordering, and the accounting. It wouldn’t be easy, but Connor could do this.
Despite barely scraping by in high school, Connor was smart. When he did study and put his mind to it, he’d easily pull off As on his exams to bring up his average to a passing mark. In our senior year, his English teacher accused him of cheating. She insisted that he’d either plagiarized or gotten someone else to write his essays. She called them brilliant and insightful and didn’t believe Connor had it in him to produce that kind of work. He’d flown off the handle, stalked out of her classroom, and slammed the door. The guidance counselor and principal had been called in to deal with it. Fortunately, the guidance counselor wasn’t a total tool and suggested that Connor write an essay in his office. The teacher grudgingly admitted that it was up to the same standard as the others, but Connor never got an apology which pissed him off. As a result, he handed in mediocre work for the rest of the year and ended up with a C instead of an A.
By the time I entered the shop, I felt good about my decision to support Connor. Maybe it would lessen the blow when I told him he only had two months to prepare for the exhibit. A girl with long dark hair, a lip ring and multiple ear piercings, peered at me over the counter. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No. I’m here to see Connor.”
My gaze wandered over to his station. He was tattooing a guy’s arm and laughing at whatever the guy said. Connor looked like he was in his element, like he was somewhere he belonged. Happy. Confident. Relaxed. In complete control of the machine in his hand. My gaze lingered on his face. He was in the zone, and nothing around him existed except for the guy and the tattoo he was working on. He got like that when he was working on his art, the same way I did with my aerial silks class.
“Connor’s busy,” the girl behind the counter said, drawing my attention back to her.
“I can wait.”
“He might be a while. And he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s working.”
“I’ll just sit on the sofa and wait for him to finish.”
“Suit yourself.”
Fine, I’ll suit myself.
I sank down into the black leather sofa, set the taco container on the coffee table, and crossed my legs to wait. While I waited, I watched Connor. He looked so good in his faded jeans and fitted white T-shirt, the muscles in his arm flexing as he inked his design.
God, I missed his body. I missed his everything.
I’d tried so hard to forget him. But he had been there in every song, in every memory, in every teardrop.
“Hey Ava,” Jared said, coming to stand in front of me. “Long time, no see.”
I stood and hugged Jared. After we chatted for a few minutes, he introduced me to Claudia, the girl behind the desk. “You should show Ava the jewelry,” he told Claudia. “She doesn’t mind a piercing, do you, girl?”
I already had three piercings in each ear and a belly button piercing, all of which I’d gotten at this shop when I was eighteen and had gone on a piercing spree. “I have a few, but I think I’m good.”
“How do you all know each other?” Claudia asked, trying to sound casual but she was obviously fishing for information and her eyes were narrowed on me.
