The door opened, reminding me that I was still open for business and had another appointment scheduled.
“Get fucked,” I told him before stomping my way over to the small podium desk I used to check clients in.
“Fuck you. Stay away from Lydia,” Luke shot back as he stormed out the door.
I asked the guy to wait for a second so I could go to the bathroom and try to calm myself down.
Every cell in my body was flooding me with adrenaline. Blood rushed through my veins, filling my ears. My vision dimmed at the sides as I struggled to pull back on my fury.
Fuck Luke. Fuck him for not even hearing me out. We’d spent the last twenty-odd years as friends, and he still didn’t think I could be good enough for his sister. Not even a chance to prove myself. No benefit of doubt. Nothing but immediate contempt for me as her boyfriend.
Goes to show what he really thinks of me as a man.
I chugged down a bottle of water and waited until my hands were steady again. The last thing I needed was to fuck up a new client’s tattoo because of personal shit I had going on in my head.
My shit mood didn’t get any better throughout the night, although the continuous buzzing of the tattoo machine helped to keep me focused. The ink came out great, but I wouldn’t be getting any five-star reviews for my attitude.
Evenings were always the busiest time for me. The steady stream of clients through the door would fill me with pride most nights, but tonight, all it was doing was delaying me getting home to Lydia. I hadn’t even had a chance to call her after the assface left.
I walked into a dark house a few hours later. No television playing quietly in the background. No Lydia waiting up for me on the couch.
What if Luke called her after he left? What if he convinced her that she was too good for the struggling artist who could barely keep his business afloat? Things were better, but two months in the black wasn’t enough to get me out of the hole I was in financially. It was a start though. Things were looking up for me, and that was all thanks to Lydia.
Quiet permeated the space. The only sounds were the patter of my feet as I stalked to my open bedroom door, fear and dread rushing through me.She wouldn’t leave with talking to me. Even if Luke could convince her that she deserved better than me, she wouldn’t just leave, I told myself.
I turned into the bedroom, reaching for the light, when my hand stilled. Curled up on the bed, her hands folded beneath her rosy cheek like an angel, lay my Lydia. I let out a long breath, leaving the lights off, and shucked off my clothes. Her warm body melded to mine, and I tugged her close, holding her tighter than I probably should.
I placed a light kiss to her bare shoulder, eliciting a soft hum from her.
“Shh. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you,” I whispered.
She shifted a little bit, sandwiching my arm between the soft curve of her waist and her own arm on top, holding on to me.
I’m not going anywhere, Lydia. Hold on as tight as you want.
I didn’t want to have to pick between my friend and the woman I loved, but if forced to, it was no contest.Sorry, Luke. You don’t stand a shot in hell.I would easily blow up a twenty-year friendship for this woman. Hell, I’d blow up the world for her.
22
Lydia
Blondie, the upbeat punk rock band from the ’70s, streamed from my phone at the loudest possible volume. The lyrical, rhythmic beat was the perfect backdrop for my photo-editing session. I was sitting on the couch, waiting for him to get home so I could go over the analytics of his accounts. Or maybe we could push that off to tomorrow and spend our time doing something much more engaging than poring over reports.
A girl could hope, anyway.
After telling him about my relationship with Blake, I expected Seb to back away from me, from the idea of us being an us. But instead, he listened and held my hand. He kissed me tenderly, and then a whole lot less tenderly, like he knew that I wasn’t so fragile that he had to treat me with kid gloves. He told me that I mattered. He showed me that I mattered.
I didn’t know I needed it, but he did. He knew exactly what I needed, and he was there to provide it for me. I could understand how he left a string of broken hearts in his wake.
I could see myself being one of them, if I were being honest with myself.
The music cut out, interrupted by the quiet buzzing of my phone, along with my daydreams of a future with Seb.
Luke.
Wow. It took him all of thirty minutes to call since he talked to Sebastian.
“You interrupted my jam session with Blondie,” I opened in mock complaint.
