Page 41 of Word to the Wise
If I can’t hear her, I might miss something.
This girl makes me fucking paranoid—among other things.
I thought I heard her screaming for me when I got out of the shower last week, but it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. I’d been thinking about her while I was in the shower, and I let myself give into those fantasies.
So when I stepped out, I swore I heard what I’d been imagining. If it was, she wasn’t ready to admit it, so maybe it was just wishfulthinking.
It’s becoming impossible not to think about her. No matter how much I tell myself she’s still healing, and I’m not the kind of man who wouldn’t take advantage. She’s impossible to resist when she’s beautiful, smart, and funny. The list gets longer every day I’m around her, learning every unique tick that draws me in.
Like how her hair’s impossible to tame, no matter how hard she tries. It’s always falling in front of her face, and when it does, her highlights draw out the golden hints in her brown eyes.
Or how she blinks twice as fast when she’s thinking one thing and saying another.
We’re still figuring each other out, so she’s careful. But eventually, the truth always comes out because she can’t help herself.
And then there’s her laugh that’s a borderline giggle. Innocent in all the ways that shouldn’t be possible when the girl has been through hell.
She’s tough as nails, but she doesn’t see it. The tiniest, strongest little thing I’d like to wrap my arms around.
She makes me want to be a man I’m not—carefree, unguarded.
I’m going to mess this up if I’m not careful, so I’m trying my best to keep my distance.
“It looks good in here.” Sage stops in the doorway to my room at the shop. “Finally starting to move in?”
This room used to be an oversized closet that was turned into its own tattoo room when I started taking on more clients. So there was nothing on the walls, and I didn’t mind it. Even if I’d made the move to LA, I wasn’tsure it was a permanent thing, and I didn’t want anyone to have to deal with my mess if I left.
Looking around now, there are a few pieces starting to fill the emptiness.
“Getting there.” I look around, realizing I’m settling in.
The plan to bounce around until something felt right changed the moment Reed bulldozed into my life.
Every day I settle in a little more. And now that she’s been hanging around the shop, teasing me for my boring space, I’ve started slowly changing things up.
Band posters, art, and images of tattoos I’ve worked on.
Then there’s my favorite piece, hand-drawn in the corner. Reed took a Sharpie to the wall and drew a picture above the light switch. It’s two stick figures on a rock wall. The one at the top has long wavy hair, and the one still climbing is twice her size.
Reed said she’d immortalize the win she could have had if I wasn’t a giant, and it was too fucking cute to cover up.
She doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body, given the stick limbs and mismeasured proportions, but it’s the one thing I look at when I need to make sense of the mess in my head.
Reed challenges me without having to say it. She forces me to look at things I’ve been avoiding. She sees me for who I could have been if things had gone differently in Vegas.
On a table in the corner of the room is a picture of my sister. She’s the only one in my family I care to remember. And it’s the reminder that no matter how much Reedstarts to break through my defenses, I need to keep my distance for her own good.
I’ve failed one woman in my life. I’m not doing that a second time.
Sage rests against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. He leans his head back to glance both ways down the hall before looking at me again.
“How’s my sister doing?”
“Better.” I pop my knuckles. “She’s been happier this past week.”
“Good.” Sage nods. “Carter hasn’t stopped calling. I have a feeling he’s going to snap soon. She hasn’t said anything about him reaching out to her, has she?”
“No.”
