Chapter Two
Paula
My heart is pounding in my ears when Darrell flips the sign on the door and tugs down the blinds to his shop before turning to me.
His eyes are blue, like a clear sky. It’s the first thing I noticed about him when we met at the local fair. He didn’t look like the type to frequent town events, and he stood out with his dark clothes and the ink on his biceps. He is a huge man, imposing in frame with a full sleeve of tattoos and short-buzzed hair. To me, he was the most interesting thing at the fair, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Well, me and all the other girls at the fair.
When we met, I’d been trying to win a large teddy bear from one of the games. I knew the game was probably rigged, but I was determined. By my fourth attempt, I was twenty dollars poorer, frustrated, and ready to give up. Like an avenging knight, Darrell swooped in and won the bear on the first try, then turned and gave it to me. I’d convinced him to let me buy him a lemonade as thanks, and that was that. We ended up spending the rest of the day together touring the fair, riding all the rides, and talking like we’d known each other our entire lives.
The attention he drew didn’t seem to bother him much as we walked around together, and to date, I still have no idea what exactly he was doing at the fair. We became the type of friends that see each other nearly every day, but he’s never shown interest in visiting another fair since we met.
It’s been two years since that fateful day, and my enchantment with Darrell hasn’t changed one bit over time.
He still…captivates me. With those beautiful and intense blue eyes that remind me of a clear day. Everything about this man leaves me a stuttering mess, and I haven’t exactly made an effort to hide my feelings for him.
All things considered, ours is an odd friendship, but it’s worked well for us so far. Now, though, I want us to be more than just friends. I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and it’s about time I did something about it.
“Paula,” he says, stepping up to me, and I quickly shoot to my feet. “What’s with the paint all over you?” He nods at the stains on my shirt.
“Oh, the kids were painting today, and it got a little messy,” I say with a smile, recalling the events of the day. Being a teacher is my calling, and instructing elementary kids is a dream. I love working with children, and I often think about having my own.
Mine…and Darrell’s.
At times it feels like a fantasy, and at others, it feels so close, I can almost touch it. The uncertainty between us…I hope to change that today. But first, I have to work up the courage to ask Darrell for more, knowing I might be risking everything.
“So, what are you doing here so late? Is everything okay?” Those beautiful blue eyes darken as he takes another step forward. “Did something happen?”
I wring my fingers nervously, suddenly second-guessing myself. “Um…no, nothing happened.”
“You seem nervous. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It’s dangerous, his tone. I know how protective Darrell is of me, and if I didn’t know better, I would think he has deeper feelings for me, but I know better than to hope. Darrell doesn’t see me that way. His protectiveness has nothing to do with having romantic feelings for me. He’s never made any move on me despite there being many opportunities to do so.
“Everything is fine,” I hurry to say, but the fire in his eyes doesn’t immediately cool off. It’s doing things to me. The same thing that always happens when I am near this man. I wince when I feel the familiar tingle between my legs and wetness spread from my core.
Focus, Paula.
I need to tell him what brought me here, and yet, I find myself wavering. This is my best friend, and it should be easy to open up to him about my feelings, but by doing that, I risk one of two things happening. He either confesses that he has feelings for me too, or he tells me he doesn’t and things get awkward between us.
I could lose him even as a friend. Can I really risk that?
“Was that Sebastian Foster?” I ask weakly, hating myself for being a coward.
Darrell’s eyes narrow on mine, but he doesn’t push me. “Yes, he came in to get a tat in honor of his girlfriend.”
“Oh right, I heard that he was seeing someone,” I say, shuffling nervously on my feet. “I never pictured Valor Springs with such a huge celebrity as a local. It’s amazing.”
“Sure.”
Tell him, Paula!
“Right, so, um, I stopped by the bakery and bought you one of their giant cookies,” I blurt, suddenly reminded of the box I brought with me. I lean down and grab the white box sitting on top of the magazines on the small table, but he doesn’t once take his eyes off me. “It’s an oatmeal raisin cookie. I thought about getting the giant chocolate chip cookie, but I know how much you prefer the raisin—”
My voice trails off when Darrell closes the distance between us, those ink-stained fingers grabbing my chin firmly and forcing my gaze to his. “I know you didn’t come here to deliver cookies or talk about Sebastian,” he says, his eyes studying mine in a way that has my sex clenching with need. “So, what is it, Paula? You know you can tell me anything.”
Goosebumps spread over every layer of my skin, and my breaths grow labored when he speaks. They are simple, the words he says. They are words I have heard a dozen times from my other friends, but they don’t sound or mean the same coming from Darrell.
God, does this man have any idea how many times I’ve imagined these very hands buried in my hair as he kissed me, his fingers between my thighs, caressing my most intimate parts? I ache with the need to feel his massive body press down on me as he claims me. I crave the feel of those sexy lips exploring every inch of my skin, and I want mine on his, tracing the beautiful ink on his body.
But it’s not all sexual. Darrell and I already act like a couple; it confuses me sometimes. We have dinner together almost every night, and sometimes, I sleep at his apartment, which is directly above the studio. Not to mention how weirdly possessive he gets when another man tries to hit on me. We do a lot of the things that couples do, minus the sex.
My closeness to this man has pushed all other possible suitors away. Everyone in town thinks we’re a couple, and it’s given me some deluded idea that we could be. I want more .
When I stay over at his place, I want to share his bed instead of sleeping in the guest room. I want to feel his hot breath brush my skin all night long. I want to bury my face in his neck and feel his massive arms tighten around me as he pulls me closer to him when we share the same bed. I don’t want to touch myself and imagine it’s him doing it and stifling my pleasured sobs with the pillow so he doesn’t hear me.
“Paula!”
“I want a tattoo!” I blurt out, worrying my lips nervously as I stare into the man’s eyes, which light up in surprise. Darrell watches me for a second before dropping his grip from my chin, and I immediately miss his touch.
“No.”
I blink stupidly at him, and it takes me a second to process what he just said. “No? What do you mean, no?” I thought he would be thrilled about this.
“I mean just that. No.”
Darrell turns around and walks back to his workroom. I drop the dessert box back to the table and follow him, admiring the way the dark shirt he’s wearing stretches across his muscular back and how those jeans hug his ass, but I quickly shake off my lustful thoughts. “You can’t be serious. It’s my choice to get a tattoo!”
“And mine to deny you one.”
“But why?” Darrell doesn’t immediately respond, and I fight back the impulse to stomp in frustration. Okay, I need a different approach. I’ll plead with the man if that’s what I need to do. “Look,” I start, my tone soft and placating. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. I promise you I won’t regret it if that’s what you are worried about,” I tell him with a smile, in hopes of appeasing his worry. “I know some people regret getting tattoos, but hear me out. The one I want—”
“No.”
“You can’t tell me no without even giving me a reason.” I watch the man organize his things, completely ignoring me, so I grab his arm and pull his attention toward me, but once those intense blue eyes are locked on mine, I lose my ability to speak. God, this man has the sexiest eyes I have ever seen on anyone. It takes me a moment to find my tongue, but I do. “I know your rates are high, but I can afford the tattoo. I’ve been saving up—”
“I am not inking you, Paula,” he says with finality. I follow him around as he sanitizes his equipment, suddenly confused by the turn of events. I was so sure he’d be excited to share this part of himself with me. Heck, this was how I was going to admit my feelings to him, and he’s ruining my plan.
“Are you worried about my career?” I say, placing a hand on his arm. “I know some people don’t think teachers should have tattoos, but I want mine somewhere no one will see. At least hear me out.”
Darrell sighs, his breath whooshing out of him as he turns around to face me once more. “I’m not worried about your job, Paula. It’s… You’re perfect the way you are. Why would you want to let someone mark such beautiful skin?
My stomach flips at his words. “I don’t want just anyone to do it. I want you to mark me, Darrell. Can I just tell you my idea?”
“Fine, I’ll humor you. What is it you want?”
I smile, clapping excitedly. “Okay, so I had this idea a few weeks ago. I have something specific in mind, but I want it somewhere that only I will see it.” And you, if my plan works…
“And where’s that?”
I blush. “On my ribs. Um, next to my breast.” Darrell looks frozen in shock, so I hurry on, “I’ve seen tons of pictures online, and I think it’s a good spot, right? I want a teddy bear tattoo right here.” I lift my hand and press my palm to the spot where I want the tattoo before realizing I’m basically cupping my boob.
There is silence, awkward and tense, as my words hang between us. I notice his eyes linger on the hand on my tit before shifting back to my face. My cheeks and neck heat the longer he stares at me, but I don’t say anything. “Paula,” he chokes out, shaking his head and shifting his gaze briefly from me. “Most people’s first tattoos are a simple heart shape on their shoulder or ankle.”
“I want to do this, Darrell. And I want you to be the one to give me my first tattoo.”
He shakes his head, turning his back once more on me. “No.”
I groan at his words, propping helplessly against the wall next to him. “Can you at least give me a reason instead of just turning me down?”
“It’s going to hurt,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
My heart skips a beat. Well, a couple of beats actually, and I nearly melt on the spot at his words. He does this a lot. Tosses about words that make me want him even more, but they are just words. “I know it’s going to hurt, Darrell, but that’s why I want you to be the one to do it. Please .”
“Still no.”
I glare at the man, getting frustrated. “Fine, if you don’t give me a tattoo, then I’ll get it from another artist.” It’s an empty threat. One that defeats the whole purpose of why I’m getting one in the first place.
“I am the only tattoo artist in Valor Springs.”
“Then I’ll go to the next town.”
“They don’t have one either.”
“Fine,” I say petulantly. “I’ll go to every town in the damn state until I find someone willing to tattoo the damn teddy bear next to my boob.”
“You are acting like a child,” he says, clearly as frustrated as me.
A child?
Is that how he sees me? He is not that much older than me. At twenty-nine, Darrell is only eight years older than me. That’s like…nothing. Still, it hurts that he would say such a thing. That he would think of me as one. Does that mean that I’ve been alone in my feelings? I had hoped he felt something for me, but obviously not. I thought we were friends, equals. But does he see me as more of a little sister or something?
Oh God, I didn’t consider the possibility of that, and yet, it’s there. His protectiveness and possessiveness, all of which made me fall in love with him, was it just him trying to take care of me in a brotherly way? Have I spent two years of loving this man only to get my heart broken?
I run a hand through my hair and flash him a smile I don’t feel. “N-no, you’re right.” I chuckle, the sound coming out a little forced. “It’s a stupid idea. You were right to refuse me.” To reject me . “It’s fine, forget about it.”
I guess I have my answer, and the good news is that I didn’t need to go through the pain of a buzzing needle poking at my skin to figure out that my best friend will never have romantic feelings for me.