19. Kaitlyn
NINETEEN
Kaitlyn
IF SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME THIS MORNING THAT I’D BE
sitting in my ex-husband’s tattoo shop, negotiating the terms of our fake friendship while he tattooed me, I’d have called them a liar. Then I would’ve packed up my car, grabbed my dog, and run for my life.
Don’t be a coward, Kait. You had your opportunity to leave, and you didn’t take it, remember? Matter of fact, when Went asked you to leave Boston, you pretty much told him to fuck off.
Yeah.
I remember.
And even though staying when I should’ve left has been hard, I don’t regret it. I have people here. People I care about. People who care about me . Maybe that’s an easy thing for some to walk away from but not someone like me.
People?
You don’t have people—you have Ryan, and let’s be honest here, Kait—he’s not your people. He’s your patient. You can barely stand each other half the time. That’s not really a connection worth fighting for, is it?
Maybe not, but it’s all I have.
Yeah? Whose fault is that?
“What’s a Mook?”
Once we came to an uneasy agreement to spend the next week or so being friendly toward each other, just long enough to get us through Conner and Henley’s wedding before we tell everyone we decided we hated each other, neither Went or I have said a word. I’ve been laying here for the last hour with my eyes closed because I’m too much of a chickenshit to look at him while he finishes up my tattoo, the hard buzz of his tattoo gun, the only sound between us. Until now.
“A dog,” I tell him, my eyes still closed. “My dog. He’s a?—”
“You have a dog?” I’d have to be deaf to miss the envy in his tone—a reminder that he’d told me once that he’d always wanted a dog.
“Yeah.”
“How long have you had him?” Went lifts the needle for a moment to wipe away some excess ink and I take the opportunity to turn my head away from him so I can open my eyes.
“A while.” It’s an evasive answer but the truth would likely send him into a tailspin. One that would have him hurt and angry enough to forget about our temporary truce and throw me out of his shop.
Like he recognizes my answer for what it is, Went makes a rough sound in the back of his throat before letting the subject drop. Lifting the needle off my skin a final time, he turns the gun off, the following silence making my ears ring. Rolling his stool back, he stands. “Let me get you cleaned up and then I’ll take you home.”
In my peripheral, I watch while he skirts the bottom of the table before he steps into my field of vision. Long, powerful legs carry him to the sink and I watch while he snaps off his gloves and tosses them in the trash.
“I can order another Uber.” I say it to his back, tone lifted to carry over the sound of running water while he washes his hands. Before I can finish pleading my case, Went bumps the tap off with his elbow. Snatching a bunch of paper towels from the stack, he turns around, pinning me to the table with a sharp, black glare.
“Actually, you can’t,” he says pulling my cell phone from his back pocket. Showing it to me with a bland smile, he tucks it away again. “And I already said I’d take you home.”
“I know.” Sitting up, I nod while panic starts to swirl again. “But you’re probably tired and I don’t want?—”
“Is there someone waiting for you beside your dog?” His tone is casual when he asks, the easy-going cadence of it at total odds with the dark, murderous look he’s giving me.
“No.” I shake my head while I fight the urge to squirm against the bolt of heat that shoots through me. Jealous, possessive Went really shouldn’t turn me on but he does.
Always has.
“Then I’m taking you home, Kait.” Like the matter is settled, Went turns to tug a fresh set of gloves from the dispenser mounted to the wall. “Turn around so I can clean up your shoulder.”
Giving him a quick head bob, I do as he says, turning myself away from him to sit cross-legged on the table. Gaze aimed at the empty waiting area, I half listen as Went goes over aftercare instructions while skimming a light coat of ointment over the tattoo before covering it with a small square of clear plastic wrap. “The wrap can come off tomorrow morning,” he tells me, giving my shoulder a final smooth before he drops his hands.
“Okay. Thanks.” Suddenly feeling awkward, I push myself across the table to the other side. Unfolding my legs, I let them drop over the edge so I can stand. Making my way to the wall of mirrors in front of me, I angle my shoulder so I can get a good look at Went’s work—a dragonfly, just like I asked for. If at all possible, it’s even more beautiful than the one he drew for me six years ago. Lifting my gaze, I find him watching me from the other side of the table.
“It’s beautiful.” I offer him a small smile. “Thank you.”
He makes another one of those deep sounds in the back of his throat. “You’re welcome,” he says, turning away from me completely. “Let me clean up my equipment and then we’ll go.”
Even though he can’t see me, I answer with a nod before moving past the counter and into the waiting area while he cleans up the mess that giving me a tattoo made. Wandering from drawing to drawing, I look at myself. See myself standing on the front porch at Northpoint. Sitting on the dock that juts out into the lake. Studying at the kitchen island. Making brown butter blondies in my underwear. My face hidden in all of them.
Stopping in front of a drawing of me and Two-tone in the corral behind the house, I feel my throat tighten at how beautiful he is. How perfectly Went captured every single detail, down to the swirl of cowlicks on his neck to the fly, perching on the tip of his ear.
“Ready?” Went says behind me, standing so close I can smell the disinfectant he used to scrub his hands and clean his equipment.
“Yes.” I nod for good measure but don’t move. “I miss him.”
Behind me, Went shifts on his feet with a sigh. “Which him is that, Sunshine—you left behind more than one.”
He’s right. I did.
Brock.
My father.
Damien.
My brother’s ghost.
I left Went behind too, and the man I found in his place hates me, just as much as he wants me. Even though it breaks my heart, it’s nothing less than I deserve.
“My horse. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. I almost forgot what he looks like.” Turning away from the drawing, I offer him a faint smile. “I hope someone’s riding him.”
Went makes that sound again but this time it’s softer. Almost apologetic. Taking a step back, he clears his throat. “It’s late—let’s get you home.
THE DRIVE BACK TO THE CENTER IS QUIET, NEITHER of us quite sure how to navigate the terms of our truce without bumping into each other and making a mess.
When he pulls into the parking lot, Went parks and shuts off the engine. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he pulls my cellphone from his back pocket and offers it to me.
“I’m going to open your door for you and then I’m going to walk you to your apartment.” When I open my mouth to tell him that it’s not necessary, he shuts me up with a hard look. “It’s what I’d do for a woman I was interested in— any woman who wasn’t your neighbor, actually—and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Con ran the security footage back to make sure I was on my best behavior.” He lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “Fuck—I wouldn’t be surprised if he was watching us, right now.”
“Okay.” I nod. “You’re right. If we’re going to pretend to be…” Running out of steam, I look away, aiming my gaze at the hands I have folded in my lap. “I’ll wait here for you to open my door.”
Instead of answering me, Went just climbs out of the driver seat and slams the car door between us. A few seconds later, mine opens and a large, tattooed hand appears in front of me, a silent offer to help me out of the car. Even though Went’s been touching me, practically non-stop, for the last few hours, I feel my heart bounce itself into my throat when I see it. Can’t seem to make myself take it.
“Kait.” Went says my name quietly, a reminder that Conner Gilroy never sleeps and he’s unapologetically nosy. He was undoubtedly awake when Henley came home and since Tess is as delicate as an F-5 tornado, she knows all about Tess’s plan to get Went and I together. That means Conner knows too. That him watching us right now is a forgone conclusion.
Nodding, I pull a hand from my lap and slip it into his before lifting my gaze to his while my stupid heart tries to wedge itself between my tonsils because no matter how many times I look at him, I’ll never get used to how beautiful Went is. How nervous and out of sorts he makes me feel.
He hates you. Doesn’t trust you—and he has good reason for both. Remember that .
As soon as I’m on my feet, Went closes the car door behind me and lets go of my hand so I can lead the way across the parking lot while he follows closely behind. At the back door, I fish my keys from my purse while he stands over me, so tall and wide that he blocks out the security light Patrick had installed last year, after Ryan’s father came looking for him with a guy almost as big as Declan and who looked like breaking legs was his full-time job. Turns out, he’s a friend of Maeve’s and from what Henley says, a pretty decent guy.
Leaning into me, Went presses his hand against the small of my back. “Something wrong?”
Yes.
When you touch me, my heart beats so fast, I see spots.
You know—the usual.
Finally finding my keys, I let out a sigh of relief while I fumble the right one free and jam it into the lock. “No.” I shake my head while I give it a twist. “Everything’s fine.” Shoving the door open, I stand in the wedge of it, blocking his path even though the alarm system Conner installed has started to beep, counting down the precious few seconds I have to key in my code before it goes off. “You don’t have to walk me to my apartment, Went. I’m sure if Conner is watching, he’ll understand that?—”
Instead of arguing his point, Went simply smiles and comes toward me, giving me no choice but to move out of his way. Closing the door behind him, Went resets the deadbolt before turning to look at me again. “You’ve got about fifteen seconds before that alarm starts squawking, Sunshine. I suggest you stop giving me a hard time and turn it off before it wakes up the whole fucking building.”