17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Avery
Corbin is different around his sister. He’s less grumpy, and he’s smiling more. More? That would imply he smiles at all. Well, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes he laughs at something Jessie says, or he jokes with her or Noah and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. But then it’s as if he remembers I’m there and goes back to his usual grumpy asshole persona. I’d love to say it’s not personal, except I know it is.
He doesn’t want me here. He’s made no secret of that fact. But I assumed he would eventually stop being hostile every time I’m around. I’m starting to wonder if I was wrong. It’s only been 2 weeks, but I’m not sure he’s ever going to stop hating me for the way we met. ‘Hate’ might be a bit of an exaggeration. I’m not sure he hates me, exactly. It’s more that he refuses to be nice to me. Instead, I get this grouchy version of him when I can tell there’s at least some semblance of a decent human being somewhere in there. He just won't show it to me.
I was shocked when he offered me a brownie earlier. I’d walked over to him, intending to try and make conversation. But when he’d made the crack about Jessie’s favorite cookie, I’d spoken without thinking. To my shock, he’d responded without his usual grumpiness. His nearness coupled with his low, sexy voice had almost been enough to make my knees go weak. What the hell is wrong me that one small token of kindness is enough to make me forget that he’s a total dick to me the rest of the time? Never mind. I know exactly what’s wrong with me. I’m a straight woman with a pulse. That’s literally all that’s required to fall under Corbin’s spell.
Jessie seems somehow immune to him, though. I wonder why that is. She’s into guys. That much I know from some of the conversations we’ve had over the past few days. But she seems totally unaffected by Corbin’s sexiness. She treats him more like Henley does, which is to say more like a sister. I wish I could flip a switch and think of him that way. Because being so attracted to him that I’m willing to overlook all his assholery over one small gesture? That’s against the code of feminism or something.
Still, I can’t stop watching him as he works on his sister’s back. I’ve seen him tattoo at least a dozen people over the last 2 weeks and he’s always professional and methodical. But there’s something different about the way he is with his sister. He’s softer somehow, gentler. Not that gentle or soft are words I’d have associated with Corbin before today. But the descriptions fit. And somehow, I’m mesmerized by it.
I hover nearby, watching him work. I know he’s aware of my presence, but he doesn’t look up from his work or acknowledge me. It’s almost hypnotic, watching the ink flow into Henley’s skin, turning it from a blank canvas into a work of art. As for Henley, she seems unfazed by all of this. The buzzing of the machine, the fluorescent lights overhead, the audience of one, not to mention the pain she must be feeling. Her head is resting on her folded arms and her eyes are closed. Her breathing is slow and even. She hasn’t flinched even once. The only sign she’s still awake is that she responded to Corbin when he asked if she needed a break after the first 45 minutes passed.
“I’m good. If you need to stretch your fingers, go for it.”
He just smiles and shakes his head but continues working. I can’t tell if either of them is in any discomfort simply by looking at them. If they are, they hide it well .
“You like to watch?”
Hearing Henley speak after being silent for so long startles me out of the trance I’d been in while watching Corbin work. My gaze shoots to her face and I’m surprised to find her dark eyes open and fixed on me. Her expression is one of amused interest, which immediately makes me uncomfortable. Henley seems like the kind of woman who’s always been the cool girl. She probably showed up on her first day of kindergarten and was immediately the popular girl. She’s tall and willowy with long, wavy blonde hair and the kind of curves I wish I had. She doesn’t look anything like Corbin with his dark hair and beard. Except maybe the eyes. They both have the same deep brown eyes that seem to be able to glean all of someone's secrets just by looking at them. I remember she asked me a question and force a smile.
“Since I can’t tattoo anyone yet, watching is a good way to learn,” I say. “I’ve ordered some supplies of my own to practice. But I like watching the different techniques.”
“Hmm,” Henley says. “I get that.”
“Besides,” I say. “It’s a beautiful design. I’ve never seen a tattoo like it.”
“That’s the point,” she says. “Besides, Corbin doesn’t do anything that’s not original.”
“No flash art,” I say, smiling.
“Exactly,” she agrees.
I nod toward the growing design on her back. “The phoenix. Signifies rebirth. Rising from the ashes of the fire that consumed it. I’ve always loved that legend. ”
Henley just smiles. “I just thought it looked cool.”
I don’t believe that for a second, and I can tell she knows I don’t. But I don’t press her for her reasons for getting the massive creature tattooed onto her skin. People have their own reasons for what they do, and they’re none of my business. Some people want a reminder of a happy time. Some want to hide reminders of painful times. And some just think a design is pretty. Their reasons don’t matter to me. The art is what fascinates me. And this piece Corbin is inking onto his sister’s back is a masterpiece. The lines flow gracefully into one another, creating a stunning design that looks like it was made to be part of her skin. The colors aren’t all there yet, but I can imagine how it will look when it’s completed.
Against my will, my eyes stray back to Corbin, noting the intense concentration on his face. His brows are drawn low and there’s a little crease between them that makes him look more approachable somehow. It’s so clear that his work means something to him. It’s something he takes immense pride in. Something he refuses to fail at. I can respect that, even if he is a dick to me most of the time. But when he’s not being rude, like right now, it’s so much harder to remember all the reasons I’m supposed to hate him. The man exudes sex appeal, especially when he’s working. I try to keep my attention on the art rather than the artist, but my gaze keeps straying back to his large hands, those muscled forearms and broad shoulders, the dark eyes laser-focused on his work.
Who knew intense focus could be sexy? Then again, I think I have a problem where Corbin is concerned. There’s not much he does that I don’t find sexy. Hell, even when he’s being kind of a dick, I find myself getting turned on. Even though I know it’s a bad idea, I can’t pretend there isn’t a part of me that wants to push his buttons. Just to see what happens. Cass was right before. I do want him. But I know it would be disastrous.
“On second thought,” Henley says, breaking into my wandering thoughts. “I think I’d like a break for some water.”
Corbin’s brow furrows, and I can tell he’s slightly annoyed by the disruption to his flow. But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stops immediately and looks toward his sister.
“You okay?”
The obvious and immediate concern in his tone is touching to witness. I’m not used to seeing this side of him.
“I’m fine,” Henley says. “Just thirsty. And I’d like to stretch a bit.”
I stand. “I’ll grab you a bottle of water.”
Before I can take a step, her hand shoots out and grabs my forearm. Her grip is firm, but not painful.
“Let Corbin get it,” she says, looking up at me.
“It’s literally part of her job, Hen,” Corbin says .
I smile, glancing back and forth between the two. “It’s not a problem,” I say.
Henley speaks without taking her eyes off me. “Corbin, be a good brother and grab me a bottle of water. It’ll give you a chance to stretch your legs.”
“Henley…” There’s a warning in his voice that Henley clearly ignores.
“Corbin,” she says in the same tone he just used.
He sighs and moves to stand. “Don’t forget the rules,” he says with a meaningful look down at where her hand still grips my forearm.
She smiles and slowly releases me. Only then does he walk back toward the break room. Henley immediately gives me a warm smile that appears genuine.
“What rule is he talking about?” I ask, confused.
She smiles as she moves to sit up. “He told me I’m not allowed to hit on you,” she says rolling her head around to stretch her neck. “He’s always so grumpy.”
Surprised, I blink at her. “I thought it was just me,” I say before I think through all the reasons I shouldn’t talk about my boss to his sister.
But she just laughs. “Nope. He’s always that way. Too serious. Likes his rules.”
“I noticed,” I say drily. “Were you planning to hit on me?” I ask.
She gives me an assessing gaze. “I like you.”
“Thanks,” I say, flattered. “But I’m straight.”
She laughs again. “Pity. ”
“Right? Life would be so much simpler if I weren’t into men.”
“Simple isn’t always better,” she says. “Sometimes a complication can be fun. I saw how you were watching my brother.”
My face goes instantly hot, and I shake my head. “There’s nothing between me and Corbin.”
“But there could be,” she says. “If you let it.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
She just smiles. “Sometimes bad ideas are fun. Besides, I think you could be good for him.”
I shake my head again. “You’re wrong. For one thing, he wants nothing to do with me. For another, it would just make things weird at work. I don’t want to do anything to ruin this opportunity.”
She nods, her gaze tracking Corbin as he makes his way back toward us. “I get that. But I think you’re wrong about one thing. No one knows my brother better than I do. One thing I know? He never does anything he doesn’t want to do. Never. So, hiring you? Agreeing to train you? It’s because some part of him wanted to. Which means some part of him wants you here.”
My brows draw together in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Henley shrugs, still smiling. “Might want to figure it out before you decide he’s not worth complicating your life for.”
I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t get the chance. Corbin is there handing Henley a bottle of water. I can’t tell from his demeanor if he heard any of our conversation. If so, he’s not letting on. And he’s not the kind of man to just ignore someone talking about him that way.
“Drink up,” he says to his sister. “Then we’ll get back to it.”
Henley nods, lifting the bottle in a mock toast before tipping it back and draining half of the contents. Her words bounce around in my head as I sit watching Corbin work for another hour. I don’t know what to make of her comment about Corbin wanting to hire me. Is she right? She knows him better than I do. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. I’m here for a reason, and it’s not to fantasize about a certain grumpy, sexy tattoo artist. So, even if Henley was right about Corbin wanting me here, I can’t worry about that. I need to stay focused on learning as much as I can about this profession so I can be the best damned tattoo artist possible. So, when Corbin starts cleaning Henley’s skin in preparation to wrap it, I decide to go find Jessie.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say to Henley.
“It was nice meeting you, Avery,” she says. “Think about what I said.”
I make a noncommittal sound before turning to walk away. I don’t look back to gauge Corbin’s reaction to her words. Instead, I go find Jessie and help her prepare for a septum piercing. By the time we finish, Henley is gone. It’s too bad. I like her. What’s more, I like the way Corbin is when she’s around. It makes me believe maybe there’s more to him than the perpetual grump I normally see. Seeing him today with his sister seems to have softened me toward him, which is dangerous. I don’t need to think about Corbin in any other light than the one he painted himself with during our first meeting. But it’s hard when he’s offering me brownies and smiling at his little sister in a way that makes it clear he has a heart in there somewhere.