Page 7 of Stay With Me
“It’s really nothing. I’m sure I’m just overreacting.” I twist my dark hair into a messy bun and huff out a sigh. “I’m just so tired of the bullshit. I just want to do my fucking job, not be manhandled by a creep every time I walk through the door.”
“What happened?” Everett says from behind me, his voice dark and unforgiving. I glance over my shoulder at him and see the fire in his eyes barely banked. He’s pissed and I have to admit, I kind of love it.
“I was just trying to restock in the back room and I had to grab the boxes from the very top shelves. As I was reaching up to pull them down, fucking maggot Malcolm grabbed my ass! I’m talking two full hands of Kelsea’s peach here, man. I almost fell off the damn ladder because I was so shocked!” I throw my hands up, completelyexasperated.
“You have got to be kidding me!!” Ember screeches from beside me. Eli keeps a calming hand on her shoulder, but I can see the anger in his eyes, too.
“He tried to play it off like ‘oh, I thought you were falling!’ or some shit like that, but Maggie and I both just stood there staring at each other in shock. He had this smug grin on his face, and I seriously wanted to stab him. And that’s a big threat coming from me, because I know how much that shit hurts,” I scoff, laughing at my own joke, but apparently I’m the only one who finds that funny. Everett storms out of the room with a murderous look on his face, and I look back at Ember. She gives me a sly grin, patting Eli’s hand as he snorts out a laugh.
“Whats his problem?” I ask, obviously oblivious to whatever is going on here.
“I don't know, but you better go stop him before he makes it out of the parking lot or you might not have a boss left tomorrow,” Ember points at Everett as he storms through his station like a tornado, grabbing his jacket and keys before making a beeline for the door. If Malcolm wasn’t my boss, I probably wouldn’t bother trying to stop Ev from whatever destruction he’s trying to cause. But my self-preservation instincts have me jumping up from my chair and chasing him out the door.
I catch up with him just as he swings his leg over hisbike, fury blazing in his eyes. He’s on a warpath, and I’m putting myself right on the front lines.
“Hey, stop! Ev, what are you doing? I said it’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine.” I run to the side of his bike, pleading with him not to do something stupid.
“Wait? I don’t think so. This asshole obviously can’t take a hint. He can’t treat you that way, Kelsea.” His hazel eyes bore into mine, his usual humor and lightheartedness nowhere to be found. He’s pissed, and for a moment, I revel in the fact that he’s pissed in my defense.
“I know. But I don’t want you getting into trouble because of me. He’s not worth it,” I say, rocking back and forth on my heels.
“He’s not, but you are,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine. A bolt of heat slides effortlessly through my body at the conviction I see in his eyes. A small gasp leaves my lips, and I move to ask him what he means by that. But he revs the engine and tears his gaze away from mine.
I quickly latch on to his forearm, my touch burning a hole through his leather jacket all the way to his skin beneath. His eyes snap to the spot where I’m touching him, and the electricity crackles between us. I know we both feel it. Shit, everyone in a hundred miles could feel it at this point. I tug gently and he switches the engine off, the silence around us suddenly deafening.
“I’m not asking you to let it go, Ev. Just don’t makeme lose my job,” I plead. “I love working there. I don’t want to lose that.”
“He doesn’t touch you again, Kelsea. I mean it. The next time he comes within six feet of you, you call me. Understand?” He demands, his authority sending shivers down my spine that I try to conceal. I nod in return, words failing me.
“Lets just go back inside.” I give him a small smile and reluctantly drop my hand from his arm. We both deflate a little at the loss of our connection. He pauses for a few seconds, internally deciding if he’s going to follow me or his adrenaline. Eventually, he heaves out a heavy sigh, and I win. Swinging his leg back over the bike, he pockets his keys and motions for me to lead the way back to the door.
“So your client cancelled?” I try to steer the subject to anything besides the situation with Malcolm. I’m sure it’s not subtle, but he follows my lead.
“Yeah, I guess. Seems I have an open evening tonight.” We both walk back into the shop, careful not to get too close to each other again.
“Well, at least you’ll have plenty of time to finish your drawing from this morning. How’s it coming?” The bold, beautiful lines of his mandala design flash through my mind again, and I smile.
“It’s actually done. I took your advice and made a few changes. You wanna see?” His eyes light up at the mention of his artwork, and I’m just as interested.
“Of course! It was already so beautiful. I can’t wait to see what you came up with.” Excitement floods through my veins as we make our way into the shop and down the hall to his station. Ember fell asleep on the lounge chair in the corner, so we sneak through the lobby as quietly as possible. We both give a slight nod to Eli as we pass by his door, momentarily distracting him from his client. He nods back, holding a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and pointing towards Ember. His care and concern for her warms my heart. They truly deserve each other, and I’m so happy they found their way.
I walk into Ev’s space, noting the touches of his personality all around us. Yeah, he’s got the random flash sheets of artwork hanging from floor to ceiling to give clients ideas for designs. But he’s also got page after page of his own incredible sketches scattered between, not to mention his Foo Fighters concert posters hanging in the corner. This is definitely his safe haven, and I smile and breathe in the smell of antiseptic and Everett. I walk over to the drawing table in the corner and see the breathtaking mandala design from this morning. Only now he’s transformed it into something so much more complex. It almost resembles a sunflower, but with sharp lines intersecting back and forth across the petals and center. It’s the most exquisite design I’ve ever seen. I can’t let anyone else have this. It has to be mine.
“I want this,” I say, my eyes transfixed by the beautiful drawing in my hands.
“Huh?” Ev looks over at me with confusion in his eyes.
“This design. I want it.” I hold the drawing out to him, and he takes it slowly, still looking unsure.
“What do you mean? Like you want the drawing?” He asks.
“No, I want the tattoo. Will you do it?” He looks confused at my reply, totally shocked by my question.
“Are you serious? You want this tattoo?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, Everett, I want this tattoo. Will you do it?” I ask, growing annoyed by his questioning.
“I mean…. yeah. If you’re sure. Of course, I’ll do it,” he says. Something in his eyes tells me he feels some kind of way about my request, but he’s keeping his emotions under wraps, as always.
