Chapter 12 #2
I find myself looking everywhere but at Declan. The artwork on the walls? Riveting. Distressed wood floors? Never seen anything more interesting in my life.
I very much want to deny having any sort of crush on Declan, but the way my skin feels like it’s been set on fire when I accidentally meet his eye and find him watching me says otherwise.
“Hey, thanks,” Sean says. “How was your opening?” he asks, nodding in my direction.
“It was great. Busy, but great.”
“Looked like it. Didn’t look like you had a moment to breathe all day.”
“Same with you guys,” I say.
“For sure. Hey, you haven’t met these guys yet.
” He gestures to the others in the room.
“You know Declan, obviously. This is Maya,” he says, pointing to the woman whose work station is next to Declan’s.
She’s young, probably early twenties at the most, with bright, shoulder-length, magenta-colored hair.
She has fewer tattoos than Sean and Declan, but she makes up for it in piercings – in her eyebrow, two in her nose, and at least a dozen between both ears. She gives a small wave.
“That’s Eddie.” A man in the back of the shop tosses up a hand in acknowledgment but continues cleaning. He’s tall, with a thick beard and glasses. I can practically feel Grace sizing him up beside me. She’s always had a thing for beards.
“And this,” Sean says, grabbing the hand of the woman who worked the desk all day as she walks by, “is my Frankie.” He tugs her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her deeply. I can feel a blush spreading across my cheeks just watching them.
When Frankie pulls away laughing, I swear there are stars in Sean’s eyes. The man is in love.
“Don’t mind my husband,” Frankie says, turning back to us. Sean’s arms stay looped around her waist, like he can’t not be touching her.
“Oh honey, we don’t,” Grace says, fanning herself exaggeratedly. “I’m Grace, by the way.”
“I’m Elsie.”
“I’m so glad to meet you again,” Frankie says, smiling. She’s short, with black hair thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head. She has an impressive number of tattoos and piercings, but fewer than the others have. I’m admiring the small hummingbird on the side of her neck when something clicks.
She said ‘meet you again.’ My eyes flit back to her face and she grins.
“Wait a second,” I say, squinting like it’ll help me get a better look at her. It takes me a few moments to place her. “Francesca? Francesca Monero?”
Frankie laughs, tossing her head back against her husband’s shoulder. “I was wondering if you’d recognize me.”
“Holy shit,” Grace says. “You’re, like, even cooler than you were in school. How is that possible?”
“Oh stop,” Frankie scoffs. “You two were the ones everybody loved. And Olivia. I don’t think I ever saw any of you on your own. I thought you might have been surgically attached at the hip.”
“We still are,” Grace says proudly, reaching down to squeeze my hand. “Which leads me to why we’re here. We’re going out to celebrate a successful opening day. Do you guys want to join us?”
I’ve been able to ignore Declan through the entire exchange, but I become painfully aware of his eyes on me again. I ignore it, keeping my attention on Frankie and Sean instead. Maya wanders over to join us, apparently done with her post-shift chores.
“Sounds fun,” Frankie says. “What do you think, baby?” She tips her head back to meet Sean’s eyes and he plants another kiss on her.
“I’m down. Anyone else?” he asks, looking around the room.
“I’m in,” Maya says at the same time Eddie says, “Sure.”
We all look over to Declan, who’s been sanitizing the same piece of equipment since we arrived. He cleans the machinery almost idly. His hands, covered in light blue latex gloves, wipe it down while his eyes stay fixed on me.
I wonder if the electricity pulsing between us is obvious to everyone else, or just me.
Because it’s there, even if I’d like to pretend that it’s not.
The second our eyes meet it’s like a living, breathing thing in the room with us, sucking up all the oxygen and making my pulse race.
It’s exactly why I avoid looking at him, when I can help it.
“Elsie?” he says, startling me so much that I drop the notebook I didn’t realize was still clutched in my hand. Embarrassed, I bend to pick it up, but Frankie beats me to it.
“Here you go,” she says, smiling kindly as she hands it over. There’s a knowing look in her eyes that I can’t quite place. Has Declan said something to her? I find it hard to believe I’ve been taking up as much real estate in his mind and he’s been taking up in mine.
“Thank you,” I practically whisper, still mortified.
When I meet Declan’s eyes again, he looks amused. That same smirk that infuriated me so much the first time we met is back, and I want to slap it off him. Or kiss it off him.
“Yes?” I finally ask. I have no choice but to meet his stare head-on.
I keep my eyes fixed on the nearly black ones looking back at me, fighting hard to not let my eyes wander across his stubbled cheeks or the slope of his nose.
I resist examining his neck tattoo, though I’ve been wondering since we met what the design is peeking out of the collar of his shirt.
“You’re good with us crashing?”
“Am I?” I say stupidly, my brain operating about three seconds behind my mouth. “I mean, yes. Of course.”
“It’s just that you seem a little…” he trails off, looking for the right word. “Skittish,” he adds, smirking again.
Asshole.
“I’m not skittish,” I insist, clutching the notebook tighter just in case. “I’ve just had a long day.”
“Right,” he says, nodding. It would be a lot more effective if that stupid grin wasn’t still taunting me. He steps closer, like he can’t help himself, like maybe this pull between us isn’t entirely one-sided.
I mean to take a step back, but somehow I find myself stepping closer, pulled into his orbit against my will. A force I can’t quite resist, even when my brain is screaming that it’s the logical thing to do.
Nothing good can come from whatever it is I’m feeling for Declan.
“If you’re good with it,” he says, close enough now that he has to tilt his head down to look at me. “I’m in.”
“Great.” Grace claps her hands together. “Gail is expecting us at Captain’s in a half-hour. We’ll meet you there.”
She loops her arm through mine and leads me back the way we came from. I know she’s probably dying inside, but she manages to keep her mouth shut until the door closes behind us. As soon as it does, she releases my arm and whirls around, blocking my path.
“You two are killing me.”
“What does that mean?” someone male – probably Ty – calls out.
I sidestep Grace and head over to the work table where Cam sits on a stool with Olivia perched on his lap, Ty leaning against the tabletop across from them.
I grab the other stool between them and plop down on it, prepared to ignore all of them while they gossip about me.
Bunch of busybodies.
“You could cut the tension between Elsie and Declan like a knife,” Grace tells Ty. “Did Olivia fill you in?”
“I got the TL;DR version. Several hot, tattooed individuals work in the shop next door. One of them very clearly wants to defile our Elsie. All signs point to Elsie very much wanting to be defiled. Did I miss anything?”
“Liv did not call them hot,” Cam interjects, indignant. “Who said they were hot?”
“That about covers it,” Grace nods.
I pull out my notebook and set it on the table, flipping through the pages like I’m looking for something. Ty reaches over and plucks it from my hands, setting it out of reach.
“Hey! I need that.”
“Not right now, you don’t.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms. I’m aware I’m acting like a petulant child, but I don’t care.
“Do you, in fact, want to be defiled by Mr. Tattoos next door? It kind of looked like it from here.” Of course they’d been watching through that stupid window, the bane of my existence.
“Nobody is going to be defiling anybody,” Cam butts in, going full dad mode. “Now, if Elsie, as a fully consenting adult, wants to, uh…”
“Fuck him?” Grace offers.
“Yes, that,” Cam nods.
“She does,” Olivia interjects.
“Great, glad we settled that.” Grace hops onto the tabletop beside me and swings her feet. “Ty, wait until you see these two at the restaurant. I swear, you can reach out and feel the tension strung between them like a bow. One of these days it’s going to snap.”
“I’m jealous,” Ty whines. “I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a month.”
“A month!” Grace yells. “Multiply that by… I don’t know, a lot. That’s where I’m at.”
Same. I don’t say it, though. I’ve never been as comfortable talking about my sex life as my friends.
Grace will happily tell us about the length, girth and exact angle of every penis she encounters without blinking.
Olivia’s a bit more reserved, but I still know about all the times Cam called her a “good girl” on their first road trip together, and the way he likes to take control in bed.
“Can’t relate,” Olivia says smugly, looping her arms around Cam’s neck. He buries his face in her neck, hiding his smile. They’re so sweet together it would make me a little bit sick, if I wasn’t so damn happy for my best friend.
“Alright, you two,” Ty admonishes. “We’d better get going. I’m ready for dinner and a show.”
I take a few minutes to close up, making sure the display arrangements are put away in the cooler and the coffee machine in the break room is ready to go for the next morning. Once everything is set I flip off the lights, lock the doors and join my friends on the sidewalk outside.
“Ready?” Ty asks, slinging an arm around my shoulder.
“Absolutely not. Let’s go.”