15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Adalie
A fter the barbecue, I didn’t see or speak to Nate again until I returned to his house for my next lesson with Dani. She is so fun to hang out with that while I was there, I could almost ignore Nate’s presence. Until after dinner, when Dani retreated upstairs to call her mom, and I sat in the kitchen beside him at the island while Taylor did the dishes.
His body heat reached out to me, urging me to lean into him, turn to face him, maybe finish the moment that almost ended in a kiss at the barbecue. But I didn’t, reminding myself that I’m not there to start a relationship with him and it would be insanely complicated if we tried.
They came to the last paint night before wedding season as well, taking their usual spots at the head of the row. Dani was my top student again while Nate was the worst. It’s possible he messes up partly so Dani can help him fix it, but I’m really not sure.
The following Monday, I meet Nate after work at Ink & Steel, the tattoo parlour where Sam works. He rides into the parking lot on his Harley, stopping next to three other motorcycles.
I watch him from beside my car, the memory of riding on the back of that bike filling me, making me want to tell him to forget the appointment, let’s just go riding instead. But then he’s off, striding toward me, removing his helmet.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey. You ready for this?”
“No.” I slide my hands down the front of my dress. “Yes. It’s just a consultation. It’ll be fine.”
He chuckles and leads me to the door with a hand on the small of my back.
“That’s a different leather jacket from the one you wore at the hockey game,” I say.
“Yes. This one is my riding jacket. It’s reinforced with plates.” He knocks a knuckle against one of his shoulders. “The other one was my dad’s. Mom gave it to me after he died. She gave Taylor one, too. I think he had like five.”
Nate pulls open the front door and I walk into a large reception area that’s completely black and chrome. The decor leans toward motorcycles and horror creatures. We step up to a glass counter. Inside, a variety of piercings are displayed for sale. We’ve just come to a stop when a woman comes out from a back room. Her hair is short, spiked, and bright pink. One ear has piercings from the top all the way along the edge. The other has a single dragon wrapped around the outer part of her ear. Her nose is pierced and so is her lip. From what I can see, she has a single, very large dragon tattoo curling up along her right arm.
“Hey, Nate,” she says.
“Hey, Syn. Good to see you.”
“You getting some more ink?”
“Not today. This is Adalie. She’s here to see Sam.”
Syn grins and turns to a computer. “Here it is. She’s just finishing a break. I’ll take you back. Zach and Dad went out for a bit, otherwise I’d let them know you’re here.”
She motions for us to follow her around the counter and Nate puts his hand on my back again. His hand on me gives me the confidence to keep walking.
“No problem. I saw Zach the other day.”
“How’s Taylor doing?” Syn asks.
“He’s fine,” Nate says. “Though I think what you really want to know is if he’s still happy with his tattoo.” He turns to me. “Syn is the piercer here, but she’s apprenticing to be a tattoo artist. She gave Taylor a free tattoo a few weeks ago, and he is still happy with it.”
Syn breathes out a sigh and smiles, glancing at me. “He’s the first person I tattooed who isn’t related to me. Anyway, here’s Sam’s desk. I’ll go let her know you’re here.”
She goes into the back again and Nate turns to me with a smile. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” I say, though it comes out a little higher than I’d intended.
He takes one of my hands in his, pulling it from where I’d been playing with my hair, twisting curls around my fingers. The touch of his skin against mine sends sparks through me and I find myself caught in those stormy grey eyes. The memory of when he’d put his hand into my hair at the barbecue, the intensity of that moment, makes me want to step closer. I want to kiss him again, the way we’d kissed on my birthday before everything got complicated, before I’d thought of all the reasons we shouldn’t be kissing each other.
“Hey, Nate,” someone says, breaking the moment.
He lets go of my hand and turns. I turn as well, finding a woman with long, icy blonde hair. She has a gorgeous, fine-line tattoo on her neck that looks like an elaborate necklace. I can’t see where else she might have tattoos because of her clothes.
“Sam. This is Adalie. She wants to talk to you about her first tattoo.”
Sam’s eyebrows raise. “First, huh? Cool. Have a seat. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I sit on one of the stools and take out my phone, finding the picture I’d shown Nate before. “I like this. I’d like something like it.”
She looks at the picture of the flowers on the woman’s shoulder, then looks critically at mine.
“Do you mind?” she asks, pointing.
I shift a glance at Nate, then pull the neckline of my dress down a bit. It’s my shoulder for crying out loud. Not like I’m undressing in front of him. Sam traces a finger on a line over my collarbone, around my shoulder to my back. “Around that area?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
She grabs a piece of paper, the picture on my phone in front of her, and begins sketching. “You like these flowers? Or a different kind?”
“I don’t have a favourite flower, but I love roses,” I say. “For a tattoo, I like the symbolism of roses with thorns.”
She glances up at me with a smile. “I get it.” She rolls up a sleeve showing off a gorgeous rose tattoo. The flower itself is blood red, and it has a thorn with a drop of blood coming off it.
“Yes,” I say. “Except, I don’t think I want red roses. Maybe pink?”
“We can do pink. How many flowers?”
She sketches fast, much faster than I can. She asks occasional questions, and I answer them as best I can. While she’s working, my phone buzzes, telling me my brother, Elliot, is calling. I ignore it, saying I’ll call him back later when Sam offers to take a break if I want to answer.
In only a few minutes, Sam is done with the initial sketch.
“Let’s take a quick look at how this would fit,” she says, standing with the paper. She places it on my body, wrapping it around my shoulder. “This looks close. I’ll finish drawing it up and when you come in, we’ll do the finishing touches.”
I swallow hard. “When, um.” I clear my throat. “When do you think I’ll come in?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s go find Syn. She’ll get you booked.”
We return to the front. Syn is there, and she smiles at us. “Got everything you need?”
“Yep,” Sam says. “It’ll probably take three hours but book her for four, just in case.” Then she looks at me. “I gotta get some things set up for my next client. I’ll see you soon. And don’t worry. I’ll get you through your first tattoo. When I’m done, you’re gonna want ten more.”
I laugh. “There’s no way I can not worry . But I’ll try. See you later.”
We get the appointment scheduled—Sam actually had a recent cancellation a few weeks from now—and Nate and I head back out to the parking lot.
“Are you coming with me?” I ask. “When I come back.”
“I thought I was,” he says. “It was my idea, after all.”
“Good. I mean. I could ask one of my friends, but you’re right. You dragged me into this. You need to come with me.”
He chuckles. I love making him laugh, even if it’s just a small one. “If I remember correctly, you dragged me into the whole out of your comfort zone thing. So this is all your fault.”
When we reach my car, he opens the door for me. “I guess that’s it for now,” I say.
“Unless you wanted to do something else.”
I search his eyes. Does he want me to say I want to spend more time with him? Does he want to spend more time with me?
With more than a little regret, I sigh. “I should get home. I have some things I need to do tonight. And I should call my brother back.”
“All right. See you later, Adalie.” He starts toward his bike, putting his helmet on.
My whole drive home, I find myself wishing I’d said yes, extending our time together. But I really do have things I need to do so I get home and tidy up, doing a load of laundry, putting away dishes. By the time I get into bed, my apartment is clean, and I’ve tried calling Elliot back twice but he never picked up.
I lay in bed for two hours, wondering why he might have called and why he didn’t answer. I also think about the work I have to do at Blue Vista in the next couple weeks as we start wedding season. And every now and then I get anxious about the tattoo appointment coming up.
Eventually, I give up on sleep and go into my art studio on the other side of my apartment. I paint for half an hour, letting the worries in my mind fade away while the picture I’m creating takes shape, a landscape based on a photo Ava took a couple months ago. While I paint, my mind drifts to Dani and I have an idea, so I send Nate a text, fully expecting him to answer in the morning. It’s 1am, after all.
Me:
I just wanted to let you know, while I’m thinking about it, I’d like to paint with Dani next Thursday. Do you think we could do it on your deck?
Only a moment later, my phone buzzes with two back-to-back texts.
Nate:
That should be fine.
What are you doing awake?
Me:
Can’t sleep.
I hesitate for a moment, my finger nervously tapping the side of my phone. Finally, I take a breath and type another message.
Me:
Want to talk?
Instead of texting back, Nate’s name fills my screen. I swipe to answer.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he responds.
Then we don’t say anything else. We’re silent so long I start to laugh. “Riveting conversation we’re having,” I manage.
“Conversation like ours is exactly why I stayed awake.”
“Nate Sinclair, did you just make a joke?”
“An admittedly bad attempt at one, yes,” he grumbles.
I hop off my stool and switch out my canvas to a blank one.
“So if you’re not sleeping, what are you doing?” he asks.
“I was painting. Which is why I thought about painting with Dani. But I think I’m going to start something new.”
I climb back onto my stool and pick up a pencil. “What are you doing?”
“Lying in bed. Trying to sleep. Failing.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
I sketch an image on the canvas, not really letting my mind think about what I’m doing.
“I always have trouble sleeping the first night Dani goes back to her mom’s.” He sighs. “I know it’s stupid. She’s happy and Katie is awesome. I guess I just miss her. Takes a night for me to acclimatize to being without her again.”
I blink away the tears that have filled my eyes, my heart aching for him. “You’re a good dad, Nate. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Thanks. Why are you not sleeping?”
“Can’t turn my brain off. Sometimes I’ve got so much going on and I just can’t settle.”
“What are you thinking about that’s keeping you awake?”
I tuck the phone between my head and shoulder so I can hold the top of the canvas as I continue the sketch.
“Wedding season is starting. That’s always stressful until we really get into it. My brother didn’t answer when I called him back.”
“He doesn’t call you often?”
“Almost never. I guess he’ll try again when he feels like it.” I take a breath. “And I went for my first tattoo consultation today. Which is making me a little nervous. I have an appointment now, you know. A real tattoo appointment, where I’ll go and get a real tattoo.”
“As opposed to a fake tattoo.”
“Yes.”
Nate chuckles. “You know you don’t really have to go through with it. If you cancel now, you probably won’t even need to pay any cancellation fees.”
“No. I want to do it. I’m just going to be a nervous wreck about it.”
Now he laughs. I smile at the sound.
“So what do you have planned for me next?” I ask.
“Don’t know yet. You said you’re not ready to jump off a bridge. And your tattoo appointment isn’t for another three weeks. Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do and never got around to?”
My hand hesitates for a moment as I consider the question. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.” I continue sketching. “In the meantime, I can think of something I have done before that I’d like to do again.”
“What’s that, princess?”
My heart clenches at the nickname. Most of the time, when he calls me that, it sounds like a dare. This time, because of how quiet it is, and the softness in his voice, it sounds more like he really thinks I am a princess. Someone precious. Someone to cherish.
“I’d like to go out on your motorcycle again.”
“I can make that happen. I’m actually planning a trip with a few guys this weekend if you’re free.”
“When?”
“Saturday morning. We’ll leave early and ride up to Squamish, stop for something to eat then ride back. Probably about three hours there and back. After, we’ll have another barbecue here. Taylor likes to have people over.”
“Taylor does,” I say, finishing with the section I’m working on and moving on to another area. “You don’t.”
He snorts. “Am I that obvious?”
“A little bit. You like the people, I think. But as many as were there the other night after the hockey game was too many for you.”
He lets out a long breath. “You’re right. Though this Saturday, there won’t be as many people. I think it’s just going to be Mace, Raine, Zach, Doug, and Patricia.”
“Well, if I come on the ride, I couldn’t stay for the barbecue. It’s the last free Saturday before wedding season. My friends and I will be going out.”
“Out where?”
“We haven’t decided yet. But at least Spencer, Derek, and I always go out for drinks on the last Saturday. We don’t get another free one until September.”
There’s a slight hesitation before he says, “You could invite them.”
I pause my sketch again. “You don’t want more people,” I say.
“Your friends are okay. I can manage a few extra. And I had fun with you at the last barbecue.”
That moment in Taylor’s kitchen flashes through my mind again, the way my whole body tingled just from the way his fingers felt in my hair. Then I wonder, is he saying I can invite my friends simply because he wants me to be there?
“I’ll ask them.”
I don’t say anything else for a minute, focused on the image that’s coming to life beneath my hand.
“What are you doing now?” Nate asks.
“Drawing something,” I say, and I know I sound distracted.
“What?”
I sit back, lifting my pencil from the canvas and taking the phone from where I’d rested it. There’s no way I can tell him what I just drew. It’s a very simple sketch so far. I’ll need to add a few more details before I get the paint out. But even in the early stage it is, I can clearly see what I’ve created. It’s an image of Nate, stretched out on his bed, one hand tucked beneath his head as he talks to me. It’s how I’m imagining him right now.
“Just a picture,” I say. “Maybe I’ll show you one day.”
“Are you going to keep going?”
“I don’t think so. I’m hopeful I can go lay down and actually fall asleep now.”
“You want me to stay on the phone?” he asks.
“For a minute? Tell me what your plans are for the week.”
He does, talking to me as I put away my things. I return my pencil to its drawer and clean my paint brushes and the tray I’d been using earlier, putting everything back in its designated place. All the while, I listen to him talk. Then I walk across my apartment and climb into bed, pulling the covers around me.
“Are you in bed now?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, my voice soft.
“Good. Go to sleep, princess.”
“Nate?”
“Hm?”
“Maybe we can talk again tomorrow night?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I’d like that. Good night, Adalie.”
My eyes drift closed after I hang up the phone, sleep claiming me as my busy mind quiets with the knowledge that I’ll talk to him tomorrow.