by MI
Sophie hesitated for a moment longer, but finally she shook her head and smiled. “Well, if you’re going to twist my arm…”
Declan grinned back at her. “You’re damn right I am. Every chance I get.”
Chapter Seven
It was well after midnight when they left the shop. Fireworks no longer lit up the sky over Jax Brewery, although a few random bottle rockets were still being set off from time to time. Bourbon Street was its usual crowded self. No surprise there; that party rarely ever stopped.
After Declan opened the door and let them into the suite, Sophie wandered over to the window. Music filtered in from the street three stories down. Part of her wished she was still out there, celebrating amid an anonymous throng of people. Part of her wished she even felt like celebrating. She didn’t; she felt like crying. She was oddly unsettled. Getting tattooed tonight had been unexpectedly intense. Much more than she’d anticipated. Despite the occasional discomfort, she’d enjoyed being the focus of Declan’s attention. She’d started out nervous, and she’d still been pretty nervous when he finished. Ever since she’d climbed off his table, however, she’d felt bereft. She wanted his hands on her again. Maybe he’d been right. Maybe she wasn’t above making flimsy excuses to get what she wanted.
Declan came up behind her. As he lightly massaged her shoulders he said, “Why don’t you come into the bathroom now? That plastic wrap’s been on long enough—too long. I want to get it off and get you cleaned up and apply some fresh coconut oil.”
Sophie leaned into his touch. “Do we have to?” she groaned.
“Yes. Of course we do. It’s like I said, it shouldn’t have been covered up as long as it has. Besides, aren’t you even a little curious to see it?”
“Of course I am.” Part of her was anyway. “I’m also nervous as fuck.”
Declan gave her shoulders a shake. “See? That’s exactly why I wanted you to take a look at it while we were back at the shop. If you’d already looked, the suspense would be over by now. But really, there’s no reason to be nervous. It turned out great. Just don’t panic if it’s looking a little puffy or bruised by now. That’ll go away in a few days.”
Sophie nodded. “I know. You must’ve told me that at least a half dozen times tonight.”
“I know, but I needed to make sure you were really listening. I want you to be excited about it. Somehow, I don’t feel like you are.”
“Of course I’m excited.” Which was not quite true. She had been excited, but now that it was over, what she was feeling more than anything else was let down. It could just be her endorphins were depleted. Or it could be the fact that Declan would be leaving soon, and she’d have to learn to get along without him, all over again—without the comforting fantasy of “maybe someday”.
The bathroom was just as beautiful and sophisticated and expensive as the rest of the suite, all black granite and white porcelain and bright lights. And a mirror that spanned an entire wall. It reminded Sophie of just how far apart she and Declan really were. She let him help her remove her shirt and didn’t object when he kept her turned away from the mirror while he removed the plastic wrap and gently washed her clean. She didn’t complain when he used his fingers to smooth a thin covering of oil all over her. All she could think about was her lousy sense of timing. She’d finally gotten used to his touch. She’d finally managed to get him to put his hands on her again—and it was bliss. But was it for the last time?
“Are you ready to see it now?”
Sophie sighed. “I guess so.” She’d rather have done this alone. A little privacy would not have been out of place right now. But Declan was so anxious for her to see it, and she guessed she did kind of owe him that.
She held her breath as he turned her around. Then she gasped in surprise. She covered her mouth with both hands and just stared. The tattoo was exquisite. The poppies appeared to be three dimensional, living blossoms that had been frozen in time as they waved in an imaginary wind. Though she could still see the scars, they’d been…transformed somehow. They weren’t hidden, but the placement of the flowers allowed them to virtually disappear into the picture in a way she’d never anticipated. They added to the picture. They contributed to the beauty he’d created. They were still there, but different. All the same, as she stared into the mirror, the only thought in her head was, this is how it will always be from now on.
“Well?”
Sophie nodded slowly. “It… I mean, yeah. It…it’s just so…” Then she appalled herself by bursting into tears.
“Those are happy tears, I hope?”
Sophie gulped for breath. She wasn’t even sure she could explain how she felt. “Yeah, sure, but it just… It just really hit me. There’s really no going back now, is there?”
“What?” Declan stared at her in alarm. “Sophie, what are you saying?”
A shattered sob escaped her. “It’s all so…permanent.” Yes, her body was prettier now. He’d done everything she’d asked him to, and more. She loved the flowers, loved the way they looked. She’d probably even love the way they made her feel—someday. But would it ever be enough?
Somehow, in the back of her mind, where all her most unrealistic hopes and dreams resided, she’d been clinging to the stupid belief that this was all a mistake. As if someday the doctors might change their minds and admit they’d been wrong. That somehow time would reverse, or she’d wake from this dream, or the joke would be over and she’d have her breasts back. It wasn’t rational, not even a little, and she hadn’t even realized she thought it until another equally permanent change had occurred and it had been forced into her awareness.
“Permanent?” Declan’s voice was bleak.
Sophie nodded, still leaking tears. The tattoo was permanent. The loss of her breasts was equally so, and somehow that had all gotten mixed up together. “It’s like I thought I could cancel out one change with another, but this is never going to go away, is it?”
Declan’s face went white, only marginally less pale than the porcelain. He stumbled over to the tub and sat on the edge. “Jesus, Sophie. What the fuck? You hate it that much?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head. “No, I love it. I do. They’re beautiful. You did a fabulous job. It’s just…I guess it hit me harder than I expected. Sometimes, I forget, you know?”
“Just tell me I did not just make things worse. Please.”
That haunted look in Declan’s eyes struck at her heart. On the one hand, she wanted to erase it. She wanted to find something to say that would comfort him. On the other hand, why was this about him? Why did she feel the need to apologize and, while she was on the subject, what was she actually apologizing for?
Was it so wrong that she wanted him to see her as he used to—as a sexy, desirable woman? Or that she wanted to be able to see herself that way? Not as a victim or an object of pity. And certainly not as a conveniently blank canvas for his ink.
He’d given her a beautiful tattoo, and she was grateful for that, but she didn’t owe him anything more than gratitude. It wasn’t her job to make him feel okay about things. Especially not this.
“I just wanted to do something that would make a difference,” Declan said. “Something to make you feel better. I wanted to give you what you needed. Damn it, I knew this was a mistake.”
“Yeah, well, maybe so. What do you want me to say? We don’t always get what we want in life, do we? But here’s something I don’t need; I don’t need you trying to fix me. I can’t make myself feel better just so you can be happy. I’m not going to pretend for you. And I don’t want you pretending either. So just don’t worry about it, all right? I’ve been fine on my own this far. I see no reason why I can’t just keep doing that.”
“Except that maybe you won’t have to now.” Declan got up and walked over to where she stood. “I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. I’ve decided to leave the show. I’ll talk to Christie and see if there’s a chance they’ll have me b
ack at Midnight Ink. If not…well, fuck ’em. They’re not the only shop in town.”
Sophie’s heart clenched. Hope blossomed within her—bright and bold as the poppies on her chest. She squelched it. No. He couldn’t mean that. She could not have him here and not have him, it would be too hard to take. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m moving back to New Orleans. Who knows how long any of us have, you know? I guess I’ve already wasted enough time trying to figure shit out. I don’t want to waste any more.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To be with you of course. Unless you’d rather move to California instead?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sophie glared. Sure, now he wanted her with him. As if. “Look, Dec, I am not some kind of social service project, something you can take on in an effort to ease your guilt. I’m not a charity case. I’m not a cause you can donate your time to. And…I know how much it’s always killed you that you couldn’t save your grandfather or your brother, but you can’t make up for that now by trying to save me. I won’t be your penance for that either. Hell, people can’t even save themselves half the time, never mind someone else.”
Declan shook his head. “This isn’t about… Fuck. It’s not about any of that. I love you. I want to spend time with you. Why is that hard to understand?”
“You love me? Oh, please. Since when? We haven’t even talked to each other in five years!”
“I know that!” Declan reached out and took hold of her arms. “I know. I was an idiot, okay? But you can’t put that all on me. You didn’t call me either.”
Sophie dropped her gaze. “Yeah, well, maybe you should take that as a hint and go back to California. Where you belong.”
“What hint is that?” He bent at the knees, ducking his head to catch her gaze. “Sophie? What hint? Are you saying you don’t care about me? That you haven’t enjoyed these past two days? You don’t want more? ’Cause I’m not buying it.”
“Sure. It’s been fun. But ‘fun’ is not the kind of thing you build a future on.”
“I don’t know why not. What else are you gonna build it on—misery? Anyway, who cares? I haven’t asked you to marry me yet either, have I?”
“Good. Don’t. Because I’m not saying yes!”
“Look, it’s not that big a deal, all right? I can tattoo anywhere—here, there, it doesn’t matter. But, for right now, I simply want to spend time with you more than I want to act. That’s the bottom line. The tattoos I do on the show are great. They’re interesting and all, but I think that’s mostly because I’m doing things I wouldn’t get to do otherwise. They get picked for me on the basis of whether or not they’d make for good TV. I kinda miss choosing my own tats, tattooing real people for reasons other than ratings.”
“Yeah, but for how long?”
“How long what?”
Sophie sighed. “How long are you going to want to hang out with me, or do ‘real’ tattoos? You’ll get bored, just like always. What then?”
“Wow. You know, I’d expect something like that from people who’ve only seen me on TV, but you know me. I’ll get bored? Do you really think I’m that shallow?”
“Not shallow,” Sophie said, disengaging herself from Declan’s grasp. “Just… Please. I can’t do this, okay? Of course I care about you—you know I do. But it’s been only two days since you’ve been back, and already I want to be with you so bad it hurts.”
Declan frowned. “Okay, why does that not sound like better news? Where’s the problem?”
“The problem is that, once the novelty wears off, and you get over this quixotic kick you’re on, you’ll remember that there are other women out there—women who still have breasts. And they’re just waiting for the chance to throw themselves at you.”
“Damn it, Sophie. Is that what this is about?”
“Nah, I heard a rumor there’s a pecan shortage. Aunt Sally’s might have to stop selling pralines and I don’t know how I can go on if that’s the case. Of course that’s what it’s about. What did you think?”
“Jesus.” Declan shook his head. “Okay, yeah, you know what? They were great. They were really nice. I miss them a lot. But, get it through your head already; I was not just in love with your breasts!”
“No. Get this through your head: You weren’t in love at all! I don’t know what you think you remember about us, Declan, but it’s a lie. We were friends who liked to fuck each other. That’s all we were. Everything else is just pity wrapped in nostalgia and covered in bullshit.”
Declan blew out a frustrated breath. “You know what? This is ridiculous. I’m done talking.” He grabbed his toiletry bag and searched through it until he found a condom.
“What are you doing with that?” Sophie asked.
“What do you think I’m gonna do with it? You’re the one who said it: we’re friends who like to fuck, right?”
Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want to have sex? Now?”
“Yep. Any problems?”
Sophie thought for a moment. God, she could use the release. She shook her head.“No, not really.”
“Good.”
“Yeah. Good.” Very good, in fact. It hurt too much to think about the future, so she just wouldn’t do it. But one more night of the best sex of her life—no strings, no expectations? That she could totally do. “Go for it, stud. Rock my world.”
“Oh, believe me, that’s just what I intend to do.”
Sophie’s pulse raced with excitement as Declan took hold of her hand and led her from the bathroom. Good. This was good. This was just what she needed. Something to take her mind off everything else.
But then Declan bypassed the bedroom and headed for the stairs that led to the suite’s lower level. Sophie frowned. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He led her down the stairs and across the floor, not stopping until they’d reached the French doors leading to the balcony. Then he dropped her hand to unlatch the doors.
When he pushed them open, music and laughter and the buzz of voices assaulted Sophie’s senses. The party was still going strong. “I know you don’t think I’m going out there,” she told him. For God’s sake, she was practically naked! Her feet were bare, she’d left her shirt upstairs; all she was wearing were the yoga pants she’d put on that morning. “Not like this.”
Declan shot her a wicked glance. “Why not? I think that’s a great outfit.” Then he reached for her hand once more and, before she could think to stop him, he drew her through the door.
“Fuck!” Sophie gasped as cool air flowed over her. Her tattooed skin felt vaguely sunburned. The soft breeze brushing against it felt heavenly. She yearned to lift her arms above her head and stretch, offering even more of herself to the night. But the awareness that she was barely dressed and out in public had her curling toward him instead, in an effort to hide her nakedness. “Jesus, Declan. This isn’t funny. Quit blocking the door and let me get back inside before someone sees.”
Declan folded his arms around her and held her close. “Relax, bébé,” he murmured against her hair. “You’re on Bourbon Street. Shirtless women are practically a fixture. Ain’t a soul down there didn’t come here tonight expecting to see something like this.”
“Something like what, exactly?”
“You. Standing up here in all your glory. Screaming your pleasure to the night sky and starting the New Year with a bang. I think we’re gonna put on a hell of a show for them, don’t you?”
“Omigod.” Heat blossomed inside Sophie as she thought about being so exposed. She did her best to ignore the delicious shiver that worked its way down her spine. “You’re out of your fucking mind. And, just so you know? Those have got to be some of the worst lines ever. Get some new material, huh? Also? Just for the record, I am not screaming.”
“Not yet,” Declan agreed as he moved them ever closer to the wrought iron railing. “And, here’s the thing. If that’s really what you want, you go right ahead and hold you
r tongue. There’s so much going on down there right now that, as long as you stay quiet, I’m pretty sure no one’ll even notice we’re out here. It’s your choice, but I’m not going to make it easy for you. I want to show you off—you and this gorgeous tattoo. I’m proud of my work, and I’m proud to be with you. And I want everyone down on Bourbon Street to see that. To see you. So I’m going to do everything I can to make you scream real, real loud.”
“Oh, shit.” Sophie sucked in a quick breath as Declan turned her toward the street. She couldn’t believe they were out here like this—or, rather, that she was out here like this. He was still fully clothed—which only made her hotter. Were they really going to do this? How did he always talk her into these things? Part of her wanted to object, but then he placed her hands on the railing, spread them wide and pressed her forward, so that she was leaning out over the street. Her belly quivered as it made contact with the cold metal. She jumped, nearly squealing at the shock, but there was nowhere to go, no way to retreat. Her heart hammered, even harder than before as she looked down at the crowd milling below. Her pussy clenched. She could feel herself already dripping with arousal. In that instant, she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t have moved away from the rail or unclenched her hands if he’d asked her to.
But he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned into her from behind. His body, so hard against her own, accentuated the feeling of being trapped. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move, but even if she did…he’d stop her. He’d keep her here, take her here, where anyone might see her, where everyone would see her as soon as she opened her mouth and drew their attention upward.
It was all too much. “Oh, Declan, please…” She clamped her quivering thighs together, gulping for breath, unable to finish the sentence. “Please, please, please…” She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why are we doing this,” Declan corrected as he lowered his head to nibble at her neck. “I’m not the only one out here, you know.”