“Fuck. Jeremiah’s responsible for breaking your hand,” she says.
I take a deep gulp of the beer. It has to be true. There’s no other explanation for what happened to me but this one, so obvious I can’t deny it.
He saw that I was going to get the job, and he did whatever it took to block me.
“Holy shit.”
Billie gives me a concerned look. “You’re not going to go and do something you’ll regret, are you? You talked a lot about turning over a new leaf when you took this job, Stone. I don’t want you going back on the progress you made.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, I’m not,” I say. “I promise, there’s no way I’ll make a mistake like that.”
“Glad you’re so sure,” she smiles.
“Yeah,” I say, my heart pounding and my head swimming. “I’ve got something more important to take care of.”
* * *
By the time I get to Matty’s studio building, it’s past eleven. I stop home to get ready on the way, combing my hair back and putting on a fresh sweatshirt, but even with an insulated leather jacket over it, I can still feel the cold coming off the lake.
I grip the green tea to feel the warmth.
Something about the conversation with Red and Billie unlocked things for me. I don’t have a curse following me around, damning me to lose everyone I care about.
What I have is one asshole. A bully.
And like Matty told me, we can never let the bullies win.
So who cares if Jeremiah fucks up my hand and costs me a spot in the shop? If he’s going to take over Blade one day, there’s no future there for me anyway.
But there is a future for Matty, and I’m damn fucking sure that there’s a future for us, too.
After talking to Red, I almost feel like I’ve found my place. I can be myself, a tattoo artist with a sweet boyfriend, and the people I respect will respect me, too.
It’s almost too good to be true, and I gather that feeling up. I’ll need it if I’m going to get Matty back in my life where he belongs.
Before I buzz, the door opens, and Ayla and Tonya walk out. They both look exhausted but happy, and after we awkwardly greet each other, Ayla flashes me a thumbs up before they walk away.
I bound up the stairs, find the studio, and knock on the door. Matty calls out from inside, his musical voice pulling another smile out of me, and pulls it open.
“Oh, Stone,” he says, surprised.
“I hope you don’t mind,” I say as I hold up the tea.
His face relaxes into a smile. “No, I’m really glad to see you. Come in.”
He’s alone, and in what seems like a damn miracle, the studio is organized. Most of the art is put away except for one set, the dog swinging in the purse, which sits under the bright lights.
“Looking good,” I say.
Last time I stopped by, we hugged without kissing. I move awkwardly toward him now, but Matty surprises me but jumping forward and taking me in a deep embrace.
Fucking heaven.
He sighs into my chest. “I’m down to just editing now. It’s three days until the film festival.”
I smile, so damn happy just to feel his embrace. “It’s going to be amazing,” I tell him, holding him as best I can with my arms pinned to my side.
Matty steps back, and I push some of his hair back into place. There’s a little bit of brown showing at the bottom of the blue. As I study him, I see the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles in his blue T-shirt.
