The account was in his sister’s name and there was every chance Basil had just shown her the site and she found Kevin interesting. Or something.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” he murmured to himself. He stared at the octopus which was now glued to a canvas, covered in varnish, and framed, and he pressed his palm to his forehead. He was such a fucking moron.
“Are you just going to stare at it all day, or are you actually going to take it over there?” James asked. He was half-bent over a woman’s lower back, giving her a string of cherry blossoms.
“I’m going to rip that machine out of your hand and stab you in the neck with it,” Derek growled.
The woman twitched—not enough to fuck with James’ lines—he was one of the steadiest hands in the shop, but it was enough to make him look up and glare at Derek. “Can we not terrify the newbies, dude?” He gave the woman’s shoulder a firm pat. “Don’t worry, darlin’, this one’s all bark, no bite. He’d never stab me in the neck.”
No. Derek would save it for his balls if he didn’t shut the entire fuck up. He was well aware he was making this a bigger deal than it was, but anxiety didn’t ever have chill, and neither did he. He started to drag his hand through his hair, then realized he didn’t want to fuck it up completely because even if Basil told him to fuck all the way out of the shop and never come back, he at least wanted to make his retreat look good.
“Just go, dude,” James said. “You’ve got two hours before your appointment comes in. That’s plenty of time to suck his face or his dick or his a—”
“Seriously, man,” Derek said. He grabbed the folded note he’d spent two hours writing and decided to go because anything would be better than sitting there and listening to James give him shit for it. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” James said, looking up and giving him a wink.
Derek flipped him off, tucked the note into the back of the frame, and hurried out. The walk was less than three minutes, but he took five in a pathetic attempt to give himself a moment to calm down.It wasn’t working, and he was getting more worked up, so he decided that just jumping in was his only real option.
From the front window, he could make out that the shop was empty. The owner, Amaranth—the woman he’d met before—was behind the counter tapping away on her phone, and there was no sign of Basil anywhere. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but it gave him the smallest amount of extra courage to walk in.
The door gave a loud ring as it opened, and he noticed a light in the back flashed. As he stepped in, Amaranth looked up and smiled. “Hey. Tattoo guy,” she said, coming around to greet him. “From the other day. Which one are you again?”
“Derek,” he said a little shyly. “Uh…”
Her eyes flickered to the painting in his hands. “What’s that?”
“He’s called Kevin,” Derek blurted, then flushed and turned the painting to show her. “Actually, my dipshit friend named him. I just called it Octopus, so you can name it whatever you want.”
She blinked at him, staring hard at his mouth like maybe she’d missed something. “Sorry…what?”
“You…this. You ordered this, right?” He said two prayers equally—one that the painting was hers, and the other that Basil had done this. He was such a mess.
She stared, then her mouth slowly curved into a wide grin. “No, but I think I know who did. You’re the guy from the ATM vestibule. The night the power went out.”
He blushed so hot he felt light-headed. “Yes.”
“My brother told me about it,” she told him, her tone full of glee. “He told me you were an artist, I didn’t realize he tracked you down.”
Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “Well I uh…just…during the storm I showed him my gallery online for something to do. He was probably just being nice.”
She laughed loudly, shaking her head. “My brother doesn’t do, ‘just being nice’. Trust me. He either really liked that, or really liked you.”
Derek licked his lips nervously. “Well I can just…leave this for him. When he gets back, he can…”
“He’s here,” she said, interrupting his flow of words. “He’s in the back pouting because he had a shit date the other night.”
Derek didn’t even bother to pretend like he didn’t know why hearing Basil on a date hurt the way it did. “Oh.”
“Yeah. The guy was an ass, and he’s blaming me because I set him up. But he’s got this dumbass thing about how he can’t date anyone like his ex, and that leaves a very small population of guys to choose from because his ex was basic as hell.”
Derek couldn’t help a small chuckle. “Yeah?”
She nodded sagely. “Trust me, total bro. It was gross and I was glad when they broke up, but it kind of fucked him up a little bit. He’s starting to get over it—I mean, at least he’s trying to now, but it’s been a long road.”
Derek frowned at her. “Should you be telling me all this without his consent?”
