He and Jamie exchanged a knowing look. I didn’t need or want the reminder. I rolled my eyes and went about cleaning up my station. It was well past seven, after closing for a Sunday. I had been with Tenley for more than an hour and a half.
“We going out?” Chris asked, the question directed at me.
“Not tonight.” I wasn’t in the mood for the bar and the skanky chicks that came with it. The scene had become less and less appealing over the past year, and even more so recently.
I had a better plan, and it involved Tenley. I wanted her, not just in my chair but in my bed, too. And not just once. My preference would be unlimited occasions, in a myriad of positions, for an indefinite period of time. First I had to tattoo her, though. Chris might think it was because of the stupid fucking rule. That was part of it. But it had more to do with how damaged she seemed to be, and how much she struggled with what felt like a mutual attraction. Every time I made a little progress she’d turn around and get all cagey again. I had to be careful with her. Patience was paramount. I didn’t have much left, but I could try and muster up some more.
A few minutes later, Tenley and Lisa came out of the piercing room. Lisa looked pleased and Tenley looked flustered. She avoided eye contact with me, proving my point about treading carefully. How we could go from kisses on the cheek to the frightened kitten so quickly was beyond me.
Jamie stood up and stretched. “Ready, baby?” he asked, holding his arms open.
“Always.” Lisa stepped into him and ran her hands over his half-bare chest.
I wasn’t sure what was up with Jamie and that vest today, but he managed to garner a hell of a lot of attention with it. Much of it came from Lisa. Some days their obliviousness to everyone around them irritated me. Today was one of those days. I turned to Tenley, who stood beside me. She didn’t appear to share my disdain for their open affection. Instead Tenley seemed saddened by it, wistful almost.
“I should go home.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt.
I had the strangest urge to hug her. I tried to recall the last time I hugged someone. And not a dude inspired back-smack-shoulder-bash, but a real hug. My mom had been a hugger. I relished the affection as a child and rued it as a teenager. There must have been a point in the last seven years when I hugged Lisa or Cassie, but I couldn’t remember a time that would warrant it. I didn’t invite affection on most occasions.
“I can walk you out,” I offered. It seemed appropriate and more acceptable than the other things I wanted to do. Dragging her back to the private room while Lisa and the guys weren’t paying attention wouldn’t go over well.
“I live across the street.”
“Yeah, but it’s late and you have to walk down that alley between the buildings.” I pointed out the window. At that my imagination went berserk, concocting various horrific scenes, all of which ended with Tenley in a pool of her own blood. I hated how my mind worked sometimes.
“I have pepper spray.”
“Nice to know, but a hell of a lot of good it’s going to do you if a guy twice your size comes at you from behind.”
“No one is going to attack me.”
“Bad things happen all the time.” I hadn’t meant for a simple offer to walk her across the street to turn into an almost-argument. I diffused the tension with a reminder that she owed me. “Besides, you promised me cupcakes, and I’m going to collect.”
“Of course, how could I forget about the cupcakes?” She slipped into her jacket.
My protective impulse unsettled me. I was used to thoughts that revolved around the uncontrollable nature of death, but I had never projected them onto another person before. Her fragility made me want to shield her from more potential pain, hypothetical or not.
I held open the door for Tenley and called out over my shoulder, “See you guys later.”
“Remember the rules!” Chris yelled back as the door blew shut. Jackass.
We crossed the street in silence while I tried to come up with something to say that didn’t include inviting myself into her apartment.
Tenley saved me the embarrassment. “Do you remember the ladybug invasion?”
“The what?”
“It was like the plague of frogs, except with ladybugs. I couldn’t have been more than thirteen. One day I came home from school and my mother’s garden was swarmed by them. The flowers looked like they were breathing and bleeding. As a kid I thought they were so rare and precious. It was supposed to be good luck when they landed on you.”
“Like finding a four-leaf clover.”
“Exactly. My mom used to tell me to make a wish. But there were thousands of them. Even in the house. They stopped being special and started being a nuisance. I remember cleaning my bedroom in the spring and finding ladybug carcasses everywhere. It was like a ladybug graveyard . . .” she trailed off.
“Does your mom live close by?” I asked. It was the first mention of Tenley’s family, and I wanted to know more.
“She . . . died in an accident,” she said softly. She dug around in her purse as we approached the rear entrance of the store.