“Yes,” she replied. Fox buried his face into the side of her neck. “But if y’all need me to stay until you find another roommate . . .”
“Bullshit. I’ll pay your rent until they find someone,” Fox said as he lifted his head and glared at her.
“Oh, no. It’s cool,” Blake reassured. “We’ll be fine. I know a couple of guys who might be interested. When are you planning to move?”
“The end of the wee—”
“Tonight,” Fox cut Harley off.
“Tonight?” she repeated, snapping her head to look at him.
“Baby, you have a box and one bag of stuff. They can keep the mattress. It will take us thirty seconds to get out of here.” Harley opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. She knew he was right. There was no reason she couldn’t leave tonight.
“It’s your call.” He grabbed her hand and patiently waited for her answer.
“Drew.” She chewed on her bottom lip in contemplation.
“Yes?”
Her eyes shifted from his face to the floor then back to his face before she let out a long exhale. “Take me home,” she finally said.
Fox wasted no time hauling her over his shoulder. As he carried her toward the door that led to the kitchen, she squealed and nearly dropped her beer. I ran forward and grabbed the bottle before it fell from her fingers. Not thirty seconds—more like ten minutes—later, I was standing on the porch, watching the taillights of Fox’s Challenger disappear down the road.
After closing the front door and twisting the deadbolt, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Having Harley in the house had been a convenient excuse to avoid Blake. Now there was nothing. No safety barrier I could hide my heart behind. After that, the house just seemed too quiet and full of emotions neither Blake nor I were willing to address.
While a secret relationship could be okay for a short time, long term wasn’t going to work for me. I needed him to be mine in a way that everyone knew. What we had wasn’t a dirty secret. We’d done nothing wrong except fall in love. There wasn’t any reason we couldn’t be together and out in the open. We didn’t need to be accepted by anyone as long as we were happy. Until he realized that, I needed to keep my distance.
Chapter Seventeen
“Something’s going on with you. What is it?” Jonna asked as she slid into the chair across from me, breathless and beaming. A month prior King had been released from prison on a technicality. The rapid turn of events surrounding his case offered them the gift of new beginnings.
“Nothing.” I tried to sound upbeat but avoided eye contact as I swirled the straw around in my watered-down glass of iced tea. It was the night of their wedding reception and I was trying not to be a downer.
“Yes. I know you, Tayia. Something’s up.” Jonna narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t even say anything about my shoes. Did you even notice?” She lifted one foot and wiggled it around.
She was wrong. I spotted the plain, white sandals immediately, and I’d wished we had time to at least put rhinestones on them or something. However, they did match well with her ivory, knee-length gown. When she moved, her tulle skirt billowed whimsically around her and looked absolutely stunning.
Since she’d moved to Key City with King, we hadn’t spent much time together. I would be lying if part of me didn’t feel a little sad. My best friend had moved away and had gotten married. I also wasn’t very involved in the wedding planning. Ms. Annette handled most of it, so there wasn’t much I could do. All the girls, Harley, Carina Risto, Ms. Annette, and I went with her to help pick out the gown. We had all unanimously agreed that she needed something short and less traditional because Jonna was far from a traditional girl. Looking back, the four-inch heels along with the gown I attempted to talk her into buying weren’t practical for a beach wedding.
“You’re moping,” Jonna accused.
“No, I’m not,” I denied instantly.
“Where’s Blake? Are you two fighting again? Is it about the race?”
“What race?”
“Oh, he didn’t . . . Oh, well, never mind.”
“Jonna?” I pushed. “Tell me what race.”
“Adam is going to kill me.” She winced and looked around. “Since Knight has the list locked up with a bunch of his guys, Drew, Woody, Nitro, and Blake are all going to challenge his crew. They’re going to try to wipe out at least half the line up at one time. Adam will organize all the security and everything. He founded the whole damn thing. The racing list is his and he plans to take it back.”
“Oh.” I felt my stomach turn, and it had nothing to do with the champagne. I had a feeling that Blake was up to something. He spent all his time in the garage. Sometimes Fox and King would stop by, which I thought was odd because I didn’t think they were friends, at least not the kind of friends who hung out together. There were so many things happening that I didn’t know anything about.
“Relax, Tayia, it won’t happen for a while. There’s too much heat on Adam, but as soon as things die down, the plan is to take Knight and his crew out. In the meantime, Blake’s been getting schooled by the best. I just wish he wasn’t so damn uptight all the time.” She took another sip from her glass of bubbly then glanced around the small gathering. “If you want to know the truth, I think he needs to get laid.” She lowered her head and whispered, “You need to get laid, too.”
“Jonna!” I squeaked as I looked around to see if anyone had heard her. She giggled as I swatted her on the arm. “Quit it.”
“Well, it’s true. Since Lucy left, Blake hasn’t dated anyone and you . . .” Her voice trailed off as she rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Who knows what sort of cobwebs are taking up space in there.”
“Oh my God. Enough. Are you drunk?” I stood, feeling partly outraged and partly embarrassed. Jonna continued to smile like a lunatic. The crazy look on her face was so contagious that I burst out laughing.
If only she knew.
“Well, I guess you aren’t moping anymore.” She threw her arms around me and gave me a knowing smile. “I’ll always have time for you, Tayia. You’re my best friend. I love you, girl.” Then I was dragged to the dance floor.
She hurried over to the DJ and made a song request before grabbing the microphone. Soon, the familiar melody of the song she used to torture me with when we were younger started playing through the speakers: God Only Knows by The Beach Boys. After announcing she was dedicating the song to me, she twisted from side to side in time with the music and winked. I smiled at the memory of her playing the tune on repeat as she blow dried her hair, applied makeup, and changed outfits several times. “Listen to the words, Tayia. Can you imagine feeling that way for somebody?” she would say dreamily. It was a side of her very few people saw. She could be snarky and grouchy, but there was a soft side hidden underneath that was reserved for those close to her.
As she sung the words to me loudly and off key, I threw my head back and laughed as I swayed and clapped my hands to the beat. Her voice softened as she turned her attention to King. He was seated at their table, leaning back in his chair and grinning. Jonna started singing the words to him as she moved toward where he was sitting. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap while she sang softly and rubbed his cheek. The moment felt so intimate that I had to look away because it felt intrusive to stare. I turned my head and locked eyes with Blake, who was sitting at a table in the back. When our gazes met, his mouth turned up slightly into a grin, showing that perfect dimple. I wondered if he would always be able to stop my heart with just one look. Suddenly, everyone began to applaud, bringing my focus back to Jonna and King. The song was fading out as they leaned in to each other for a kiss, but the moment was brief because Mr. Hal appeared in front of them.
“Ay,” Mr. Hal warned as he crossed his large arms over his chest and glared at the couple. “Watch it.”
When the two separated, King slapped a hand on his new father-in-law’s shoulder and smiled. After a brief pause, Mr.
Hal returned the smile and the men shook hands, letting us know all was well between them. Everyone was clapping again and whistling.
Ms. Annette wrapped her arms around her husband as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief while Harley and Fox were swaying slowly on the dance floor to music it seemed only the two of them could hear. It was an intimate group of everyone who was important to the wedding couple, and even King’s mother flew in from Arizona.
As oddly as their relationship began, it was clear that Jonna and King were made for each other. The entire day had been filled with love, and I couldn’t have been happier for my best friend, but that didn’t stop my heart from aching over witnessing something I could never have with my own soul mate.
The night ended with all the wedding guests following the newlyweds to the dock and waving as they sailed off in King’s luxury Cabin Cruiser.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up to see Brando smiling down at me. His usually messy jet-black hair was combed in a respectable style befitting a proper best man.
“Well, you clean up pretty nicely,” I teased and nudged him with my shoulder.
“I do all right.” He winked then vigorously ran his hands through his hair, effectively destroying his orderly hairstyle in favor of his just rolled out of bed look. I giggled as he un-tucked his white button down from his tan pants and shook his entire body like a dog shaking off water.
“Ahh,” he breathed out, “much better.” This time, my laughter came out with a snort, causing us both to fall into hysterics. I didn’t know how he knew, but I needed a good laugh and was grateful to have him there.
Over the past few months, Brando and I had created a friendship, mostly bonding over our efforts to comfort Jonna during the time King was in prison. I realized that he also needed someone to be there for him, too. All he had was his brother. However, it was hard to be the brother of a guy who had King’s reputation. I learned that Brando was an excellent artist and had not only designed the images he wore on his forearms, but he also tattooed many of them there himself.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked as the ferry pulled up to the dock.
I looked up at him and nodded. “We’re going back to your place, right?” I had thought long and hard about my decision, and I wasn’t going to back down now.
“That’s where the magic happens, babe.”
“All right. Then let’s go.”
“You got it,” he replied while grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the ferry.
Chapter Eighteen
“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
The words were permanently etched into my skin. Our love, just like Cathy and Heathcliff’s, had been doomed from the start.
“What do you think?” Brando asked as he started packing his tattooing equipment.
“I love it.” I stared at the delicate black script that was written neatly across my shoulder blade. I wasn’t sure why I had always been compelled to these words or why I felt the need to have them on my body. Maybe it was in response to the Wuthering Heights quote Blake wore on his ribcage. It felt intimate, like only he and I shared something that would never go away.
Through the big windows that led to the back deck, the moon was shining high in the dark sky. The time on the clock read a little after ten. Jonna and King had the boat, so if I wanted to make it home, then I had an hour to get to the dock to take the last ferry home.
I heard Brando rummaging around in the kitchen then the sound of him cracking open a beer. When he entered the living room, I was tucking in the spaghetti straps of my coral colored bridesmaid dress. The sting from the fresh tattoo was still pretty intense, so I didn’t want the straps to add to the irritation.
Brando sat on the couch and turned on the television. He looked worn out. He’d just spent a great deal of time sitting in one spot and concentrating on my artwork, so I had no doubt he needed time to relax.
I went to sit down beside him then winced as my shoulder blade hit the back of the couch.
“Careful. You okay?” he asked with concern.
“Yeah, fine. Can I have a swig of your beer?”
Brando eyed me for a second, contemplating.
“Sure, even though you really shouldn’t.” He handed the beer to me and I took a couple of gulps before giving it back. “Alcohol thins your blood and that thing needs to heal.”
“Really? I guess I didn’t think about that,” I replied, although I didn’t feel sorry for taking a drink. My insides felt restless, and I needed something to take the edge off my nerves. I couldn’t believe that I’d just gotten a tattoo.
“Nah, it’s okay. It’s worse to be drunk before you get a tat. First, it’s hard as fuck to get a drunken body to sit still. Second, they can’t be trusted to make good decisions. I’ve had people ask for shit I wouldn’t ink on my worst enemy.”
“What do you do if somebody asks you to tattoo something you don’t want to?”
“I reserve the right to do what the fuck I want. I don’t want to ink, I ain’t gonna.” He drank more of his beer. “Shit, I can’t have motherfuckers going around blaming me for their mistakes. I gotta reputation to protect.” He reached down and pulled my legs onto his lap. “Hey, sit this way. That way you can rest against the arm of the couch without it touching your shoulder blade.”
I swung around as he suggested, and he was right. It was a better position. Since I wasn’t a big drinker, my body already felt warm from the sips of beer I’d taken, along with the endorphins getting the tattoo had released. My eyes grew heavy as Brando flipped channels. I was faintly aware that he was rubbing a thumb along the back of my calf. It felt good. Too good. His light and seemingly innocent touch was actually turning me on.
He was very attractive with his sexy hair and tattooed forearms. Probably the kind of guy most girls my age would drool over. The muscles between my thighs started to clench involuntarily, which meant I needed to leave, so I swung my legs off his lap as I sat up.
“I have to go.”
“What?” Brando asked, looking confused and slightly dazed. He might have been experiencing a little of what I was feeling, too.
“The ferry is leaving in twenty minutes. I’ve got to get home.”
“Are you sure? You can crash here if you want, T.”
T? That was a nickname I hadn’t heard before, and I kind of liked it.
“Well, B”—I emphasized my new name for him— “all I have is this dress and nothing to change into. Besides, we spent last night at Jonna’s parents’ house and I just really want to get into my own bed.”
“At least you got to sleep.” He snorted with a laugh. “We stayed up all night celebrating my brother’s last night as a free man.”
“Free man? Geez, you make is seem like he’s going to be held against his will for the next fifty years.” After sliding my feet back into my heels, Brando helped me stand.
“Nah, he’s exactly where he wants to be. The lucky bastard.” He grinned and walked me to the door.
Chapter Nineteen
When I arrived home, Blake’s Chevy Nova wasn’t in the garage. I knew because I went out there to look for him. The house was dark when I walked inside, and I hated being there all alone. I started to pick up my phone and call him but thought better of it. He was free to do as he pleased. He didn’t need to provide me any explanations. While that justification sounded good in my head, it hurt my heart worse than my tattoo.
I spent way too much time rummaging through the kitchen cabinets in search of something to eat. I wasn’t really hungry yet not ready to go to bed. After pulling out all sorts of ingredients, I had everything I needed to bake a batch of brownies. By 3 a.m., I had eaten three brownies and was eyeing a fourth when I heard the rumble from an engine entering the garage.
When Blake finally opened the door and stepped into the kitchen, I was standing at the sink washing dishes.
“Tay, it’s three in the morning. What are you doing u
p?” He scanned all the items on the counter and the plate piled with brownies on the table. “Baking?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement and shook his head. “You’ve always been an odd bird.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled, busying myself with scrubbing a mixing bowl. “You weren’t home.” I added the last part in a low voice.
Blake let out a long breath but remained silent. The only sound was the running of water and the clinking of dishes as I set them in the drain. I chanced a peek over my shoulder and saw that he was sitting at the table and picking at a half-eaten brownie. I took a sponge and wiped every surface, saving the table for last. I kept hoping that he would leave, but he sat there. So, I grabbed the broom and swept the floor, mopped the tile area of the kitchen, and threw out some old food in the refrigerator.
The table was the last thing I had left to do. I considered leaving it but knew it would nag at me for the rest of the night if I skipped it. No longer able to stall, I grabbed the sponge and went to the opposite side of where Blake was sitting and started to wipe. Methodically, I focused on scrubbing the well-worn table that used to be my mother’s.
“Tayia, what are you doing? What’s with all the cleaning?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged, unable to resist the urge to restore everything back to order. The one thing, and maybe the only thing, I was capable of controlling in my life. I felt his warm hand run along the curve of my backside.
“You looked beautiful today. I never got a chance to tell you that.” I couldn’t resist enjoying the feel of his hand on me. It had been a while.
“Thank you.” My voice was barely audible as I resumed my task of removing crumbs.
“What’s this?” Blake shot up from his chair and turned me around so he could get a better look at my bandaged back.
“It’s a, um, tattoo.” I jerked my shoulder out of his grasp. “Just got it done tonight.”
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