The day I met Cora, I remember how her smile made me sweat a little. Made me a little fidgety.
Now when I look at her, a familiarity settles inside me. Still a form of love, but more comparable to what I feel when Jasmine or Jillian are around. Sibling love.
Maybe this is how close friendship should feel. Like family.
“Momma Train Gang? Dear lord, dare I ask?”
Shelly snort-laughs just as a beer is set in front of me on a coaster. “Thought I’d seen it all.” She slaps her hand on the table. “Boy, was I wrong.”
I glance between the two women, both of which laugh uncontrollably, then to Gavin. “Care to fill me in since these two are obviously incapable.”
Gavin tilts his head and eyes me for a beat. Once he satisfies the question in his head, he tells me what I missed. “Four women, probably in their mid-to-late forties, jumped on stage and mutilated ‘My Humps’ by Black Eyed Peas. Mix the singing with the way they shook their… assets, let’s just say it was memorable.”
We both take a sip of our beers and shake our heads. “You guys eat yet?” I ask him.
“Nah. Thank god. Might’ve come back up. Not sure how you guys have been doing this for years. Some of these people make me want to gouge my eyes out.”
I throw my head back and laugh. Shelly and Cora join me. “Dude, the first time was a total accident. But it wiped the stress of the day away. So, we kept coming. Call it tradition. Need a good laugh? Come in for karaoke night.” Scanning the bar for our server, I spot my oldest friend, Trevor. “Be back in a sec.”
Slipping off my stool, I walk over to the bar and sidle up beside him.
“Hey,” he says as soon as he notices me. “What’re you doing here?”
I point over to the table I just abandoned. “Hanging out. Drinking beer. Listening to shit karaoke. Grabbing a bite. You?”
He stares down at his glass, rounds his shoulders, and sags. “Just broke it off with Christine.”
Well, this throws me off. “Seriously, bro? What the hell happened?”
Trevor and Christine have been connected at the hip for the last three years. Went everywhere together. If we had a guy’s night without her tagging along, we were lucky. So hearing that they are no longer together shocks the hell out of me.
“Got off work early on Friday. Thought I’d surprise her. Get home before her and make a nice dinner.”
“Okay…” I drawl.
“When I parked at the complex and spotted her car home early, I was bummed I couldn’t surprise her. But excited she was home early.” Trevor pauses to down the last of his drink. Something tells me this tale is about to go south real fast. “I heard it before I unlocked the door.” He cringes. “Her screams. The ones she only makes when…”
Fuck. His pain is so out of my element. But like a good friend, I listen and give him a shoulder.
“I walked into the bedroom. Saw everything.” He taps the bar before peering up at me. “Dude, it’s burned into my retinas. I can’t unsee it and it pisses me off. So, I’m trying to forget,” he says as the bartender sets another Jack and Coke in front of him.
What the hell do I say? How does a friend comfort another when something like this happens? Fuck if I know.
“Wish I could say or do something to make this better, man.”
Trevor slaps the back of my shoulder. “You’re a good friend, brother. Thanks for that.”
I glance back at my friends across the bar and battle internally where I should be. With them? Or Trevor?
Why choose.
“Trev, come hang out with us.” I point over to the high top. “We’ll help take your mind off things for a bit.”
He stares across the bar at the laughing trio and gauges what to do. “I don’t know, brother. Not sure I’m in the mood.”
“Exactly. Which is why you need to.”
I grab hold of his arm and drag him off the stool. He stumbles beside me through the bar.
Fuck, he has had a lot to drink already.
When we reach the table, I plop his ass on a stool and sit next to him. Gavin scrutinizes every visible inch of Trevor then glances over to me with a silent question. Asking if Trevor is good. Subtly, I nod.
“Shelly, Cora, you remember Trevor?”
They chime in with a unified yes, followed by a bout of laughs.
“Trevor, this is Gavin. Cora’s husband. Gavin, this is my oldest friend Trevor. We go back to the days of BMX bikes and when boys thought girls were gross.”
Gavin laughs and it thins the bubble of intensity surrounding us. “Sometimes,” Gavin says as he side-eyes Cora, “girls are still gross.”
“Hey!” Cora play slaps him. “Take that back or you’ll regret it.”
For the next couple of hours, I sit in the middle of a bar surrounded by a group of people I care about. Smiles and laughs and banter bounce back and forth the entire time. Happiness hovers in the periphery when I catch Trevor smile for a moment. Because if anyone can come out on the other side stronger after something shitty like cheating happens, it is Trevor. And I will help him however possible. Maybe lug him to Wednesday night dinners for the foreseeable future.
Whatever it takes.
The only person missing from this semi-perfect moment is a petite brunette with stormy, cognac eyes and scarlet lips. Maybe I will get lucky. Maybe one day, she will sit on the stool beside me.
Seven
Autumn
Two days. Two days have passed since I pushed past my doubts and insecurities. When I, for the first time in years, handed out my phone number to a guy.
And he hasn’t used it. Not once.
What the hell?
Jonas threw out every hint. Practically begged to call me. So why hasn’t he?
And why the hell am I being such a girl about the fact he hasn’t called or texted? This is one reason why I don’t put myself out there. Why I haven’t dated in years. Because I can’t get my hopes up. Not when my heart isn’t the only one on the line. Relationships—no matter the type—don’t involve just me. Others have to be taken into consideration.
Penny plops down on the couch and lays her head on my shoulder as I sip my coffee. “Whatcha thinking about?” she asks.
I lean my cheek on her crown and shake my head. “Ridiculous nonsense.”
Her body vibrates with laughter, but she contains the sound. “Just call him already. Pull a Sadie Hawkins and woman up.”
I laugh at her reference. Penny is always so gung ho and dives in headfirst. Her energy and enthusiasm boost the parts of me I squander. Like reaching out to a guy who is seemingly interested in me, but has been radio silent since I gave him permission to call.
“But…”
“But what, Auti? From everything you told me, the guy is interested. So no buts.”
I roll my eyes, sit taller, and spin to face her as she falls from my shoulder into the couch cushions. Drama queen. But I wouldn’t want her any other way.
“What if I’m reading him wrong?”
“What if you’re not?” Penny garbles into the couch cushion before sitting up and swiping her hair out of her face. “I saw the way he looked at you last Wednesday. Girl, you can’t fake the way he reacted. He wants you. Probably more than either of you cares to admit.”
“Say you’re right.” Penny waves her hand in the air and rolls her eyes. I ignore her antics and trudge on. “Why hasn’t he called me yet? If he is as interested as you suggest, why am I sitting here questioning it?”
Penny crisscrosses her legs and lays her hands on my knees. “Because he’s a guy.” I shake my head as she continues. “And because he’s probably working all day to fix your car.”
I hadn’t thought about Betsy or the fact Jonas has his hands all over her. Is it weird to suddenly be jealous of a car? That she’s getting more action than I have in years. Hope she isn’t too broken. Hope it won’t cost a fortune either.
“Forgot about Betsy,” I admit.
Penny lifts her h
ands to clutch my shoulders. “Then use Betsy as a reason to call. Ask how things are going with the repairs. Throw out a little charm. No way he’ll resist.”
I inhale a deep breath and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Say I call. Besides Betsy, what else do I talk about?” I drop my eyes to my lap. Study a nonexistent loose thread on my pants. “You know how long it’s been.”
“Yeah, I do. And I question your sanity.” I go to interject and she holds her hand up to stop me. “Hear me out. I know why you haven’t dated or gotten close to anyone in years. But it has been years, Auti. Enough time has passed. It’s okay to do what makes you happy. No one will fault you for that.” Penny picks up my hands and envelops them in hers. “Give yourself permission to live. To find happiness.”
Although I hate to admit it, she is right. But owning the truth in your head is wholly different than speaking it aloud. Because once the truth leaves your lips, you can never rein it back in. The words can never be unsaid.
“How?” I whisper. “How do I live when…” I trail off and she squeezes my hands.
“You let us help. Just as we always have. Me, Reznor, Iliana, Rex. We may not be conventional, we may not share the same genetics, but we’re family. And family always sticks together. Through thick and thin.”
I nod robotically. Times like this, I wish my actual family gave a damn. Wish they actually loved me for who I am, instead of hating me for the choices I made over the years. Choices I wouldn’t change if given the opportunity. Because all my choices led me to where I am now. To Penny and my tat family. To happiness and potentially more. To so much love.
I reach for my phone and Penny claps like a lunatic. “You need to leave the room. I can’t call him with you sitting in front of me, judging every word or gesture.”
Penny sighs like the drama queen she is and rises from the couch. “Fine.” She huffs and wanders down the hall. “If you need me, I’ll be in the tub, reading and soaking up lavender bubbles. I expect a full rundown after.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Once the bathtub faucet cranks on, I bite my lip and scroll through my text history. I tap on the message I sent myself from Jonas’s phone and read it for the hundredth time. Can’t wait for you to call. And it suddenly dawns on me. If I read this as the recipient, it sounds as if he is waiting for me to call.
Shit. Has he read this message over and over, wondering why I haven’t called?
I tap the top of the message and stare at the different options below his phone number and blank contact image. My finger hovers over the small phone icon as I suck in a deep breath.
Now or never, Autumn. Just tap the screen.
Swallowing, I press the phone icon and lift the phone to my ear. One ring. Two. Three. Just as I consider hanging up, the line connects.
“Hello?” Jonas’s low, throaty voice floats through the line and settles deep in my bones. A flutter stirs in my belly. My tongue suddenly thick. “Hello? Autumn?”
Did he add my name to his contacts? A new wave of excitement washes over me as I clear my throat. “Yeah, sorry,” I answer.
“Everything okay?”
No, because I am a complete moron. “Yes. Just calling to check on Betsy.” And ask why you haven’t called me yet.
“Betsy’s doing just fine,” he answers with jubilance in his voice and I picture a smile brightening his face. “Should be done with her in time for Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
“My appointment.” Right, he will be back in my chair in two days. My belly does another flip. “Thought I’d bring the car to you. If that’s okay.”
I nod, then remember he can’t see me. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
The line goes silent for a moment as I pick at the chipping polish on my finger nails. Need to repaint them later.
The longer the silence stretches, the more I wonder why I am so bad at this. Years ago, I never had issues talking to guys. Hell, most of my friends are men. Always have been.
So why am I struggling to find a single thing to say? Why is it so difficult to ask him how he is doing? Or if he would like to hang out sometime. Penny’s words from minutes ago repeat in my head. Give yourself permission to live. To find happiness.
Is Jonas the happiness I have been missing all these years? Maybe. But I will never know until I put myself out there. Until I ask.
Just as I open my mouth to ask if he would like to get together sometime and get to know each other, a bang on the other end of the line breaks the silence.
“Shit,” Jonas mutters. “Sorry, but I need to go. Some people can’t be left unattended.” He doesn’t sound angry. Amused, maybe. “Glad you called.”
“You are?” I slap my hand to my forehead and close my eyes.
“Definitely. But I really do need to go before someone breaks shit.” I pick up on the humor in his voice. “See you on Thursday.”
I nod. “See you Thursday.”
“And Autumn?”
“Yeah.”
He stays silent a moment. “Nothing.” I hear his dimpled smile in the single word. “Bye.”
“Bye,” I whisper as the line disconnects.
I keep the phone at my ear long after Jonas hangs up. What was he going to say? Doesn’t he know my mind will spin with endless possibilities until I see him again? Until I ask him.
Holding on to the phone, I drop my hands to my lap and stare at the screen. Stare at the generic contact image and the number beneath it. Tapping the top of the screen, I click on the info icon and add Jonas’s contact information. Somehow, I need to figure out a sneaky way to get a picture of him. I hate not having images to associate with my contacts. Just a weird preference.
“Why aren’t you in here telling me all the juicy details?” Penny yells from the bathroom.
Rising from the couch, I head down the hall. When I reach the bathroom, I peek in and laugh at Penny as she bobs in the middle of a two-foot tower of bubbles. “You’re a freaking nut,” I tell her.
“And you’re avoiding a conversation. Better luck next time.”
I roll my eyes, walk into the bathroom, and plop down on the closed toilet lid. “There’s not much to tell. I called him, he was busy at work, there was awkward chitchat about Betsy, then silence, and goodbye.”
“You should’ve been in here with it on speakerphone. Then I could decipher all the things you’re leaving out.”
Forever wanting all the dirty details. “There was this one thing,” I trail off.
She sits up taller in the tub, sloshing water over the sides and flashing me her boobs. I cover my eyes with a hand and she laughs.
“First, you’ve seen my boobs a million times. No need to be prude now.”
“But we weren’t talking about guys then.”
Penny shrugs and scoops bubbles closer to her chest to appease me. “Anyway. Elaborate. What does this one thing mean?”
I huff and lean back on the toilet tank. “There was this one point when it sounded like he wanted to say something. Maybe ask me something. But then he just blew it off and said bye.”
During the call with Jonas, that moment of silence dragged out for hours in my head. I filled it with daydreams of my hand cradled in his. Of his cheek pressed to mine as he whispered sweet words in my ear. Of his soft lips brushing mine while his stubble scraped my skin.
Did his mind wander much the same? Did he picture the possibility of us?
Penny shrugs and the bubbles flatten a little in the tub. “Maybe he was going to ask you something, but didn’t want to over the phone. Have you ever considered the idea he may be just as nervous as you are?”
Have I given the idea consideration? No. I pictured most men as forward and cocky. Majority of the men I ink represent the notion well. Hundreds have asked for my number. When they do, I just hand over my business card for the shop.
Except for Jonas.
Granted, he has my phone number on an invoice in Thompson’s Garage. But I never picture him abusing the privilege. He ask
ed for my number because he was raised to be a gentleman. He asked for my number because he wanted to give me the choice. To say yes or no. When I said yes, I assumed he would use my number sooner rather than later. Most men don’t have the patience to sit idle and wait for the woman to make the first move. Obviously, Jonas has many redeeming qualities I have yet to learn.
“Actually, I haven’t. Suppose you could be right.”
“Could be? Girl, I’m right ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. And you know it.”
“Alright, conversation is officially over,” I tease as I stand up and head out of the bathroom. “Finish your bath and we’ll head out.”
“Yes, mother,” she teases back. “Be out in a jiff.”
I amble into my bedroom and sift through my closet. Tugging a shirt from the hanger, I toss it on the bed and grab a pair of jeans. Mindlessly, I dress and replay Penny’s response to Jonas’s silence.
Is Jonas nervous? If he is, I am curious as to why. He doesn’t come off as timid. At least not to the degree where he would be nervous asking a woman out. In some respects, he already did. So why would he be nervous to ask again? Is it the simple notion of being rejected twice? I hope that is not the case. Because if Jonas asks me again, my answer will be different.
If he asks me again, I will say yes.
Eight
Jonas
I crank the Bel Air to life and smile when it purrs like the beauty it is. Dad wanders over and I roll down the window.
“She sounds good as new.” He wipes his hand with a red rag then stuffs it in his coveralls. “Tell Autumn I say hello.”
I laugh under my breath. Since Autumn’s car arrived at the garage and she went home, Dad has given me a ration of shit every single day. Teases me about wanting another grandchild. Asking me over and over if I called Autumn yet. If I asked her on a date. Sometimes, I swear he is worse than Mom.
And when she called on Tuesday, Dad knocked a fender off the workbench as he snuck closer to eavesdrop. Always lurking about. Hence why I ended the call abruptly with Autumn.
Fine Line (Inked Duet #1) Page 6