Basil’s entire body erupted with a blush so hot he was almost dizzy with it. ‘I’m helping him with sign, and he’s giving me a tattoo. There’s nothing sexual.’
‘Yet,’ she signed, spelling the word slow and pointed. ‘You’ll seal the deal with some good old fashion fucking, and I’m happy for you. I wish things hadn’t been so ugly with Jay, but I think Derek is a great guy. And he’s so hot.’
Basil rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t exactly argue with the latter part of her statement. He was a good guy, and he was so hot. More than. There was a beauty about him—something maybe a little vulnerable like his beauty had been part of why life was so shitty for him before now. But he didn’t want to read too much into it. Derek deserved to be discovered properly and truthfully, and Basil wanted nothing more than to dive in and start learning him.
‘When do you start?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he told her. ‘For sign. Saturday for tattoo.’ He dropped his hands, then let his right palm fall to his left forearm and he stared down at the blank skin there. By the end of Saturday afternoon, there would be something there—permanent and bright, and there would be no taking it back. He wanted it though, wanted to see the evidence of someone like Derek on his skin.
His thoughts were interrupted by the lights flashing, and he frowned over at her. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’
Amaranth shook her head. ‘No. It’s probably just soul-solicitors. You want me to get it?’
He grinned at her. ‘Nah. They always walk away faster when they realize I don’t speak.’ Pushing himself up, he walked to the door andflung it open, preparing a flurry of ASL in hands too fast for anyone but the totally fluent to understand.
Instead of people asking for donations, or to test their water, or to sign them up for their church service, Jay stood there looking contrite and hesitant. His hand raised, hesitated, then signed a simple, ‘Hello.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Basil demanded. He figured his total ghosting of the guy had sent the message well enough, but apparently not.
Gnawing on his bottom lip, he fidgeted a moment before he answered. ‘I wanted to apologize. I should have before. I should have texted or emailed you, but I wanted to say it in person. I was being really harsh and judgmental without considering they might have been your friends.’
Basil clung to his frustration and anger, because he didn’t want to forgive him. He didn’t want Jay to pave the way for some sort of reconciliation. ‘You didn’t need to do that.’
‘Yes,’ Jay signed. ‘You’re a great guy and I liked you a lot, and I’d like the chance to maybe start over. It had been a rough week for me, and I wasn’t at my best.’
Wasn’t there some saying, he thought to himself, about handling someone at their worst to deserve their best? Jay’s worst wasn’t as bad as Chad’s had been, but all the same, he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue on with some guy whose default was judgmental asshole. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I understand,’ Jay offered. ‘Just…think about it and text me? I’d like the chance to prove I’m not actually a bad guy. It was just a bad night.’
Basil could give him that, sure. He wasn’t the kind of guy who had unreasonable expectations. He was surly and difficult to get along with even on his good days, but something was rubbing him the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that for most of the night, Jay had centered the conversation totally around himself. And maybe it was the fact that his apology had done the same thing.
‘I’ll let you know,’ he finally replied.
Jay didn’t look overly enthusiastic about the dismissal, but he didn’t argue either. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I won’t keep you, but please just know I can show you a different side to me.’
Basil just nodded, then shut the door before he had a chance to go on. When he went back to the living room, Amaranth turned the TV off to give him her full attention. ‘Who was that?’
‘Jay,’ Basil told her, sinking back into his chair with a sigh. ‘He came to apologize for the bad date and asked me to give him another chance.’
Her eyebrows flew up. ‘What did you say?’
‘That I’d think about it,’ he told her. ‘I don’t really know if I should. He’s self-absorbed. He spent the whole night talking about himself when he wasn’t judging me for living here or judging the guys from the tattoo shop and calling them trashy. I’m not sure that’s someone I want to date.’
‘Did he say why he was such an asshole?’
Basil laughed. ‘Yeah, he said it was a bad night. And I guess? But I can’t imagine having a day so bad I start talking like that. And then to claim he didn’t mean it? Bullshit.’
‘Maybe,’ she replied, her expression careful. ‘Maybe he really was just having a shit time.’
Basil bit his lip. ‘Maybe,’ he conceded, but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed him.
When Derek walkedinto the shop Saturday morning, he was humming with nerves. He’d already had his first coffee meet-up with Basil where they’d gone over the basics of what he knew, and they’d even managed a simple conversation by the end of the night. It might have consisted solely of talking about family members and what he was studying at the university, but it was still progress. And he got to see that look on Basil’s face—the quiet smile filledwith something a little deeper than pride—that made him want to do anything to keep it there.
Today, he would start Basil’s piece. They’d switched to paper to discuss it, and Basil had carefully explained, using more written words than he usually did, the meaning behind the flower. Was it coincidence or irony that one of the most captivating blossoms Derek had ever seen was something Basil’s mother had used to show her son that he was special? He could never figure those two words out, but what he did know was that it was important. That it meant something for him to get it right.
Basil had decided he wanted an entire forearm piece—more than just the flower, but he wanted Derek to design it, to come up with something that spoke to them both. It was a lot of pressure—and as an artist, it was his dream job. Not only to have the freedom, but the trust of the person in front of him to get it right.
His heart had been beating in his throat all morning, and his nerves took the place of his need for coffee. He was running on pure adrenaline as he stepped in through the back door and walked through to the main lobby, and he was ready to get settled in when he saw a familiar face in his brother’s stall.
