Page 55 of Hinder


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“I can see how much you love playing. Surely, they must understand how big of an opportunity this is for your career?”

He swallows but doesn’t answer. He drops his pride and lifts his gaze enough that I see every bit of pain. I can only imagine how hurtful their rejection is.

My hand reaches for his and I give it a gentle squeeze. “Their loss. You are an amazing drummer.”

His lips tick up with the hint of his smile. “I’m supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around.”

I shrug. “You can hold my hand when I get my tattoo.”

“Really?” His brows arch.

“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “Because as much as I want this, I’m still scared.”

“Opal and Leighton?”

I lift my gaze to the woman standing at the front of the shop. Tattoos scrawl out from the low-cut hem of her shirt, cover her neck, and go all the way up her hairline to near her temple. The septum piercing and ear gauges only add to her badass, no fear demeanor, and for some reason it suppresses my nerves.

“That’s us.” Leighton doesn’t let go of my hand and I try not to read into it considering the conversation we’ve just shared.

“I’m ready for you. Come on back.”

We follow her back past several doors to another smaller waiting room where she invites us to have a seat. “So, what are we doing today? And who’s first?”

I glance at Leighton and it’s as if he can read my mind. Not me.

He explains the idea for his tattoo, showing her images he found online. It’s a tribute to a band who influenced his love of rock music. She asks him several questions about sizing and placement, sends a few things to her email, and then leaves us while she goes back to her station to work it up on paper.

Leighton leans his shoulder into mine. “You look nervous again.”

“Oh, I never stopped.” I try to let loose a laugh but it’s laced with the same fear that’s held me back for years. “But don’t ask me again. I’m decided.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His hand slides along mine and this time he threads our fingers together before holding it tight. All thoughts of needles and ink scatter from my brain and in their place is a surge of lustful need. I glance down at our hands. The pads of his thumb rub tiny circles against my skin and my body responds by scattering goosebumps across my arm.

It’s happening again, just like last night. My body tightens with need and if I had the nerve I’d push him back onto this loveseat and straddle his lap. Never have I ever wanted a guy to kiss me more than I do with him. It’s a crush, I know. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he saw me as more. That he would kiss me. That he could love me.

I have no business wishing for any of those things. Not with him. But still . . . my heart holds out hope.

20

Leighton

“It’s badass, right?”I stretch my arm out wide and stare at the finished tatt again.

Opal grins at me from across the room. “Very badass.”

“Okay, Opal, you’re next. Give me a few minutes to clean this up and switch out supplies.” Avery’s been awesome. Talented and completely professional. This shop had stellar reviews, but I think we lucked out with her taking walk-ins today.

Stepping up to the mirrored wall, I examine the image now permanently inked on my body. It’s a play off the Grateful Dead’s Reckoning album on the inside of my bicep. The record was a secret gift from my Uncle Bedo for my eleventh birthday. I listened to On the Road Again on repeat every chance I had. That album was what made me dream of being more than a concert pianist.

I give it one more long look before turning away from the mirror. My mother would lose her shit if she saw this. A rush of delight courses through my body at my act of rebellion.

“Okay, Opal, what’ll it be for you?” Avery pats the center of the reclined chair.

“Oh, um.” Opal hops up and sits in the center. She twists her hands together in her lap. She’s hesitant to explain her tattoo, and for the first time today I feel in the way. Maybe she doesn’t want me here.

“Do you want me to wait in the other room?”

“No,” she says a little too loudly, leveling her voice as she meets my stare. “You promised to hold my hand, remember?” She inhales a deep breath and then turns to Avery, this time her shoulders back and head high. “I’m from Texas, so I was thinking a bluebonnet. I could always have a little of my roots with me. And then, I wanted to add on these words.” Opal pulls her phone from her back pocket and pulls something up on the screen.