by Lindsey Hart
She managed a small, tight smile. “Thanks.” He could tell that she didn’t normally like people doing favors for her. She seemed like the independent type. He liked that about her too, her strength, her wit and her fire. Not many people had what she had, and it was entirely captivating. Any man in his right mind would have wanted to know more.
He took the bags of supplies while Nina filled out the forms for Doll. He noticed that she put Shane down as a landlord and wrote his number beneath. The sharp stabbing in his chest started up again, when he thought about her in his brother’s house. He knew they were best friends, but it still bothered him. He swallowed hard and crammed the irrational jealously back down. For the hundredth time.
Back in the car, their purchases stashed in the backseat, Chet turned to Nina. “So, anywhere else you want to go?” He knew what the answer was going to be. He knew he’d pretty much run out of time with her. Other than making plans for their next date, which he was hopeful was going to be in some park and she would let him finally commit her image onto paper and canvas, he knew there was pretty much nothing else that needed to be discussed.
She shocked him when she turned to him, a sweet, shyness in her eyes. “If you want, you could drop me off and come up for a drink. My apartment is shit, but I… I- I thought maybe that would be alright.”
Chet didn’t have to ask what kind of drinks she was offering. He would have downed anything just to spend another minute with her. “That’d be great, thanks.” His words came out a little squeezed and raspy.
He started the car and put her address into the GPS. He only hoped, like he’d never hoped for anything in his life, that she didn’t change her mind on the fifteen-minute drive.
CHAPTER 9
Nina
Had she really asked Chet up to her apartment? She hadn’t meant to say those words, to invite him back for a drink. Her head was in a dazed fog of happiness. She’d had an amazing time and even though it wasn’t like her at all, she didn’t want the night to end.
She regretted her decision the moment Chet stepped through the door. Not because she didn’t want him there, because surprisingly, she did. More so because she was embarrassed at the tiny little apartment.
It hadn’t been updated since the eighties. The fridge and stove were a disgusting brown color. The carpets were low pile industrial grade, a dark brown, but the stains on them from previous occupants were obvious. She’d done her best to make it feel like home, with antique furniture she’d bought second hand when she moved out and with colorful artwork. She was a pretty good thrifter and she had no trouble filling up the bland white walls with colorful prints and original oil paintings from previous decades. They might not have looked impressive in the store, but altogether on the wall, they were beautiful. She’d even found a few antique plates she really liked and had hung them up on the wall as well.
Chet took a seat on the green French Provincial couch. It wasn’t in the best shape. The back actually had a huge rip and the arms were clawed up by the previous owner’s cat, but that was part of the reason she’d been lucky enough to get it for free. The ad literally was a picture of the couch next to a dumpster. It read ‘first come first serve.’ It was a good thing Shane had a truck. She’d called him, and he’d taken a break from work just to go pick it up for her. She was pretty sure, at least that day, that a better friend didn’t exist.
“This is nice. I like it.” Chet glanced around, taking in the small living room. The kitchen was just off to the left, divided by an ugly wall that had been put there just to separate the two rooms, but not tastefully.
“Do you? Or are you just being nice?”
“I’m not just being nice. I like the art. I’m a fan of oil paintings myself.”
Of course he was. Duh. He was an artist.
Nina put the bag of puppy supplies on her kitchen table. She opened the nearly empty fridge and produced the last two cans of beer she had. She thought about mixing up a thing of juice crystals and drinking that instead, just so she could offer Chet both beers, but decided against it. They could both drink beer and they could both drink juice if they were still thirsty.
“Here you go.” She set a cold, sweaty can in front of Chet on her coffee table. She’d tried one of those DIY projects with it and chalk painted it ivory. It hadn’t been in good shape before and though it wasn’t an expensive piece, it turned out just right. She was careful to use a wooden coaster to protect the painted top, though she’d put on some much varnish after that she was sure nothing would ruin the surface.
She sat down on the green couch beside Chet. Not too close to be uncomfortable, but not too far to be awkward. She still felt the blast of heat that swept through her at the close proximity. No, at having him in her apartment. Her breath hitched a little and she reached for her beer to distract herself.
“To being new dog parents.” She raised her beer. Chet grabbed his can and he clanked it against hers.
“New dog parents. I like the sound of that.” He moved his can away, popped the top and drank a long pull. After, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed just like Shane usually did. The movement was so uncannily similar that for a second Nina did a double take.
“So…” she popped the top on her own beer and took a sip. It wasn’t good. It was cheap stuff, the cheapest stuff the store had, and it tasted like it. “What are you going to do after this? After you paint me, I mean. What are you going to do with it?”
“I… I don’t really know. Keep it. I would never sell it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, I just don’t know if it’s creepy or not. I mean, no one’s ever asked to paint me.”
“If you put pictures of yourself on the internet, anyone can get those photos. They can do whatever they want with them. You don’t know where they go after, even if you delete them. I would say that’s quite a bit creepier.”
She thought about that for a minute. “I guess you’re right. Everyone is just so trained into putting things online, but you’re right. Anyone could take those photos just by taking a screen shot and then do god knows what with them.” The thought of some creep taking one of her photos and jacking off to it brought on a shudder of revulsion. “Is it hard?”
“To what?”
“Sit for a painting. Sorry, I just have no idea what that really even means.”
“No, it’s not hard. I mean, I’m pretty good at what I do. I painted some live models a few years ago and they were moving all over the place. They were even getting up and taking breaks. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Oh. Well that sounds okay then.”
“You can wear whatever you want. I just wanted to take some sketches of your face and hair and hands and then do the painting right after. Again, I’m pretty fast. I can probably knock it out in four hours.”
“Are you serious? Four hours? That sounds pretty fast.”
“If you think that’s fast, you should see me tattoo.”
Nina had to chuckle. “That sounds like something Shane would say, except in that case, he’d be talking about landscaping or something.”
Something dark and unreadable flashed through Chet’s eyes. She was very aware of the way he was suddenly looking at her. Looking at her as though he wanted to devour her. Her body responded viscerally, heat pooling in her blood, a heady, sweeping rush of excitement clamping down hard on her stomach. She was reminded of how she felt earlier, the rush of heat and the ache between her legs. Suddenly even breathing was hard to do. She wanted to shift away on the couch, but she didn’t dare move.
“Yes, well. I wasn’t trying to brag. I really am good at tattooing.”
“What’s it like? To tattoo, I mean? How did you even get into that?”
“You know I was always good at art. I don’t know, I just had this idea one day that I’d like to try it. I was maybe eighteen. I walked into a shop with my portfolio. Just all drawings and sketches and a few oil paintings on boards. The owner was pretty impres
sed. They didn’t have anyone looking for an apprentice, but he knew a guy. He gave me a call back a few weeks later. The shop was pretty seedy and the guy I apprenticed under hated that I was better than he was pretty much right from the start. I picked it up real fast. It was natural, just like picking up a brush or a pencil was and has always been.”
“You’re really lucky. I’m useless at art. So is Shane. I don’t understand where you got all your talent from.”
Chet glanced away, and she realized she’d touched on what was probably a sore spot. He knew something that she didn’t. Some information that neither she nor Shane had ever been privy to.
“I know where I get it from.”
“Where?” Nina asked quietly. She wished Chet would just look at her again. Maybe then she could feel like she wasn’t ripping off the lid of a box that was never meant to be opened.
He didn’t look at her. Instead he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He blew out a long exhale. “If I tell you this, I don’t want you to tell Shane. It’s not that I don’t want him to know, I’ve just been trying to find the right time to tell him. We pretty much just reconnected, and I don’t want anything to ruin that. I don’t want to hurt my mom or my brother, which is why I haven’t told them this.”
“You were trying to protect them?”
Chet finally looked at her and she could only describe those pale blue eyes as haunted. “Yes.”
“I promise then. I won’t say a word. You can trust me-”
“I know,” Chet said softly. “I know I can trust you.”
“How? You don’t even know me.”
“I just know.”
His quiet confidence warmed her inside. The way they were sitting, not close enough to be considered at all intimate, somehow felt that way. It was the apprehension, the sudden tension of knowing that she was about to be let in on some dark secret that Chet probably hadn’t shared with another person.
“I… I met my father,” Chet finally blurted. Their gazes locked and held. “I was twenty-one. He contacted me, if you can believe it. I have a pretty huge following on social media. It probably wasn’t hard for him to find me. Just put my name in and bam, there you go. He lived in Ireland of all places. He wanted to meet me and since I was in London at the time, it wasn’t far. I think that’s why he contacted me in the first place. He saw my posts about doing guest spots at a few places around London. I ended up going to meet him. I was- shocked. The real reason he left and never contacted us- even though he wanted to was that- he- uh- he had a second family.”
“What?” Nina nearly fell off the couch. She was shocked, but a moment later anger replaced whatever surprise she felt. She choked back a few choice words, knowing full well that it would help nothing.
“Yes. He had a second family. A wife and three kids. Two daughters and a son. The oldest girl was a year older than Shane.”
“Christ.”
“I haven’t talked to my mom about it. About how it could have happened, because then I’d have to tell her, and I don’t want to. I know how torn up she was. For her, my dad was the only man she ever wanted in her life. It’s why she never found anyone else. She loved him. She loved him with her whole heart and I know how this would crush her.”
“Fuck.” She knew her choice of language at the moment wasn’t at all lady like or pretty, but it seemed entirely appropriate.
“Yeah. Fuck. Anyway, it was pretty damn awkward going there and meeting with him. I didn’t actually go to the house. I went out for beers with him at some pub. I didn’t meet the kids or his other wife. He told me about them all on his own. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He never really gave me an explanation other than that he loved her, the other woman, and that he couldn’t leave her. I remember being so angry at how helpless he sounded, like it wasn’t his fault at all what happened. Like meeting another woman and getting her pregnant wasn’t his fault. Like leaving his family without a word or an explanation wasn’t his fault. Like never even bothering to contact us wasn’t his fault.”
“Chet I…”
He shook his head. “No, Nina, there isn’t anything to say. You don’t have to. I could have been angry with him. I could have yelled at him and walked out of that pub, but I didn’t. I told him how disappointing it was to hear that and how hurtful it was. I told him how he broke my mother’s heart and how I had a little brother back home who was a good kid. Although, I guess at that time, he wasn’t a kid any longer.”
“Yes we were. Even at thirteen or fourteen, I still think we were kids, even if we thought we were going on adulthood.”
“I- I guess I couldn’t sit there and throw what he’d done back in his face because deep down I’ve always felt that- fuck.” Chet picked up his beer and hammered a long swill back. He set the can back down on the coffee table and it made a hollow empty sound. “I guess I’ve always known that I was just like him. I look like him. I’m almost a carbon copy. I always had this feeling growing up that it must be that way, since my mom always loved Shane more.”
“She didn’t…”
“Yes, she did. Or maybe that wasn’t it, but she could never really look at me. She loved me, I know, but it was always like it hurt her for me to even be around. It was part of the reason I left when I was sixteen. I didn’t want her to have to look at me and see my dad. I didn’t want her to have to see her own shattered heart. So, I left. I tried to keep in touch with her. I know she was worried, but it was hard, especially after I got in touch with my dad. I was right. I looked like him and I… I had or have the same restlessness inside that he’s always had. I’ve always just felt like- like I have to keep going. Always going. Always moving. I’m always trying to outrun something, but I’ve never known what it is. Or worse, I’ve always known it was inside of me and all that moving around, traveling, seeing the world, it didn’t help. It didn’t stop it.”
“Maybe that’s because all along you just wanted to come home. You wanted to have somewhere to belong and someone who loved you.”
Chet shrugged, trying to feign a casualness that both of them knew couldn’t be real. “Either way, I guess he felt bad after. He never contacted me again. I didn’t feel right about contacting him either. And then, out of nowhere, over a decade later, I get this call from this lawyer in Ireland saying my dad died and he left me all this money. Just me. I guess he trusted that I would do the right thing and take care of my mom and Shane.”
“I think so.”
“Which makes it even more wrong that I put stipulations on Shane’s money. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I don’t know either.”
Chet scrubbed a hand over his face, over his chin, where the fresh growth of dark stubble was coming in. He was so different from Shane in that regard. Shane couldn’t grow a beard to save his life. His chin and cheeks always had that baby fresh look to it, like he was fourteen, not twenty-four.
“I’m so lost here. This is the first time in my life where I really feel like I have no direction to turn. That brought me back home. Maybe it was for a reason. Maybe I should stay. Put down roots. Be there for my family, for my mom and Shane. I’ve been toying with the idea of opening my own tattoo shop for a while, getting some other artists, maybe buying another building and having art shows or something. I don’t know. It scares the hell out of me to think of latching on to anything after just drifting for most of my life.”
“For half of your life. You left almost sixteen years ago. I know it would be hard, Chet, but I also know that Shane would appreciate it. And your mom. Even if it’s hard for her, she loves you very much and I know how much she missed you after you left.”
Chet glanced away, out the patio door that led to a decrepit balcony. She’d never even gone outside. She didn’t think the rotting wood railing would support her weight and the thought of falling over it terrified her. Sometimes, on days that weren’t so hot, she’d open up the door and let a fresh breeze blow through.
When he turned back, hi
s eyes were liquid and burning. The heat ripped right through her, searing her very nerve endings with a single glance.
“And what about you, Nina? Would you be glad if I stayed?”
“I…” how exactly was she supposed to answer that? Honestly and irrationally? Should she lie to protect herself and to protect Shane? Would he know the difference? She tried to push out the words. She tried to utter a denial that would keep whatever was happening between them completely at bay. And then an image of Chet, his fingers running over Charlotte’s soft fur, his kind words in her ears, flashed through her mind. The image of him at some airport, taking that dog and himself back to Europe, the thought of never seeing him again, closed up her throat so that she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say a damn word.
“The truth is, I’m crazy. I’m fucked up. I saw a picture of you, your grad picture, like I said, with Shane, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’re always in my head. Every single woman I’ve ever designed or drawn or painted or tattooed has been a part of you. I’m not a creep, even though that’s what it sounds like. You’re not some ghost or some image in my mind. I don’t have an obsession. I just… never could get you out of my head. I don’t know if you’ve heard the word, muse, before. Maybe that’s not even the right word, but it’s all I can think of to describe you. I’ve never felt a real connection with anyone else in my life, but when I’m here, close to you, I feel it. I feel this energy and I can’t make it stop. I was always drawn to you. I couldn’t risk just asking to paint you and having you say no and that being it. I had to put those conditions on the money, shitty as it sounds to say it out loud.”
“That’s… that’s crazy,” Nina stammered. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. She wanted him to stop. To stop saying those wild things. Another far less rational part of herself didn’t want him to stop at all. And that scared the hell out of her.