Chapter 4
Four
Wren
Now that Christian's hand isn't in mine, I feel naked. I know that sounds absurd, but it's true. I guess those crush feelings are still there. Too bad it seems like he's had a sudden shift in his mood.
"Is everything okay?" My eyes follow his to his phone, and I know why he's not as talkative as he was only moments ago.
It's a text from my brother. There's no way he knows we're out at lunch together. Well, I can't even say that. We're getting food to take back to the shop.
Walker has always been territorial, doing his best to keep areas of his life separate. I'm in one category because I'm his sister. Christian is another because he's his best friend. He would flip his shit if he knew the two categories have mingled. Even if it's innocent.
"Yeah," Christian nods and slides his phone back into his pocket. Not a word about my brother mentioned. "Are you ready to order?"
"Sure." I haven't even looked at the menu. "I'll get whatever you and your sister get."
"Including the jalapenos?"
My gulp is visible, and the corner of his mouth turns up. "Do I have the option of taking them off?"
He slaps his hand on the countertop. His laugh is loud in the mostly empty restaurant. "Yes. They will make it any way you want it. It doesn't have to be exactly the way I get it."
"Good."
A server rushes toward us and takes our order. She tells us it will be fifteen minutes and we can sit wherever we'd like while we wait.
"So..." I clasp my hands in front of me on the table. It's a barrier between me and him. A wall I'm putting up because, in all honesty, I don't need to be in a relationship. Not with someone younger than me, and definitely not my brother's best friend. "Do you enjoy working at Life in Ink?"
"It's not bad." Christian shrugs. He leans on his elbows, but I can tell he wants to slide his hand into mine again. The way his arms shift closer and closer until they are inches away from mine.
"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"It was the tattoo shop, or plumbing." He lays one arm down and it grazes my skin, sending a shiver through me. "I chose air conditioning."
"Smart man," I grin. "Will you pursue a career in tattooing? Or will you do something else?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I've spent so much time fitting into boxes people needed me to be in that I don' know what I truly enjoy."
"I feel you there. Though, for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to do art."
"I know." His arm is now against mine, and his thumb glides back and forth across my arm. I'm not sure if he realizes he's doing it, but he traces a line down my arm, and I know it's on purpose. "I remember when you used to draw roses down your arm. Your talent fascinated me then, just as much as it does now."
"How do you know what my art looks like now?"
He points to a dreamcatcher on my forearm. "Because this piece has your signature look written all over it."
It's insane how well he knows my art when he hasn't seen me in so long. He's just as sweet as I remember him, but the guilty way he looked at his phone when my brother text him says so much.
"Thank you." I glance toward the bar top, but our order isn't up yet. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. I'm an open book." The confidence he's exuding now is the polar opposite of how he acted in the shop. I've never in my life seen him fall over anything.
This question is likely to blow up in my face, but I don't care. I need to know. Especially since I'll be working with him until he starts college.
"Did you have a thing for me in high school?"
"Uh, um," he stutters. So much for that confidence. "Could you tell?"
"Not really," I shrug. He pulls his arm away, but I grab his hand. "Don't. It's nice being around someone I kind of know."
"It is," he agrees. His palm is sweaty. No doubt his nerves are in overdrive. "Though, if anything were to happen to us, Walker would lose his shit."
He's right. I need to stop going down this path. This could ruin my relationship with my brother, as well as his friendship with Christian.
"You're right," I pull my hand from his. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
Before he says anything else, the server calls his name. He stands, waiting for me to stand as well, before heading to the bar.
The walk back to the shop is silent. We keep our distance, not letting either of us get too close to the other. Things are weird now, and it's all my fault. I should have kept my mouth shut. But no, I had to know. This might blow up in my face, and my time at Life in Ink might be over before it even started.