Chapter 17 #3
My palms press into the counter on either side of the sink. “Two weddings, and I’m not excited about either one.”
Avery gasps behind me, and my lips twitch at her too-big, too-cute reaction. “How can you not be? I love weddings.”
“You know, that doesn’t surprise me.” I sigh, turning to face her. “Because one is for my mom and one is for my sister.”
“And?”
“And it’s weird. My mom’s only been dating Johnny for six months.
She’s dated guys for longer in the past, and nothing good came from those.
They were all bums. We knew it from the start, but it took her a couple years each time.
” The tension in my jaw builds, and my hand clenches at my side.
The memories of all the ways my mom had been mistreated by losers growing up still affects me.
She’s moved on, and I just… can’t. It’s hard when someone hurts the ones you love.
“They’re adults.” She dips her head, tilting it so her face is parallel to mine. “I know their timelines don’t make sense to you, but they do to them. It’s not like they’re asking you to go find a wife.”
My eyes go wide at her bluntness, and that twitch in my lips spreads out into a smile that spans my entire face.
Her grin grows too. “What?”
“Geez, Avery. Give it to me straight, will you?”
“I’m just saying!”
“Note to self: Even sunshine burns.”
She snorts. “Get that from one of your books?”
I shake my head.
“So… You’re calling me sunshine? I have to admit, it’s better than wrecking ball.”
“You can be both.”
“Get you a girl who can do both, am I right?” Her eyes dip down to her empty glass. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interjected about your family. It’s none of my business. I think it’s just the booze talking.”
I lean forward, grabbing her cup and making her another mixed drink. “Don’t apologize for being honest. You’re right. And the truth is, they’ve given up on me ever finding someone. Marriage doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me.”
Her brow creases. “Why? Don’t you want to get married?”
Does she sound disappointed?
“I always thought I would, but after one too many crappy dates.” I lift a shoulder. “It just doesn’t seem like it’ll happen.”
“Not all dates are crappy. Eventually there has to be a good one. A great one.”
“I used to believe that, but after all the times I’ve watched people fall in and out of love and end up heartbroken in the end.
It doesn’t seem worth it to go through all that to maybe find someone who will choose to stick around.
I don’t want to spend my life searching for something that doesn’t exist.”
“But what if it does? What if you just haven’t met the right person yet? C’mon, Ty. I need a little more optimism here.”
“I’m being realistic.”
“What about your mom and sister? Both of them found someone,” she challenges.
“The end will come eventually. Those guys will walk out, and it’ll be up to our little family to pick up the pieces again. Like always.”
“Is that why you’re not dating anyone?” she asks. When my eyes find hers, she immediately sits back, her hands curling around her glass as she hugs it to her chest. “I mean, I’m assuming you’re single. I've never seen a girl here. Never had to hide my things because you had someone coming over…”
“I’m single,” I confirm.
She sips her drink, then sets it down on the slick marble counter. “Forever?”
“Maybe.” I cock my head. “Why do you ask?”
Avery’s cheeks flush as her eyes dart around the room like she’s looking for a good answer.
Which she’s not going to find. She doesn’t reply.
Instead, she knocks back her drink, finishing it off in three big gulps.
Her face twists into something adorably crumpled as she sets down the empty glass.
I wait as she stammers out a few consonants, enjoying how ruffled she is.
Finally, her eyes lock in on my arm, a little hiccup sneaking out from her pretty mouth before she says, “You know your tattoos are a little creepy. A skull?” She hops off her stool, lunging forward and grabbing my arm. Turning it over in her hands, she runs her fingers over the design.
“It was my first one. Thought it might make me look… tougher.” Heat radiates over my cheeks. I can’t believe I’m telling her this. “I was sixteen when I got it. Hoped it might keep people from wanting to smash my face in.”
She looks up at me, horrified. “People wanted to do that to you? Why?”
“Easy target, I guess. Too scrawny. My skin was too unpredictable, too patchy. Didn’t like sports enough, liked books too much… At least that was the case until sophomore year.”
“Well, you certainly flipped that around, didn’t you? But I know what you mean about the ‘too this, too that’ thing. Always too much of one thing, but never enough of another. Ya know? It’s exhausting trying to keep up with what other people want.”
A sadness crawls into her gaze, and I wish I hadn’t been the one to prompt it. But even so, it feels good to dive deeper with someone. With Avery.
I stare at my splotchy ink. “If this shoddy tattoo has taught me anything, it’s that you shouldn’t let anyone steer your choices. In the end, they’re not the ones living with them.”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it. But on the flipside, if I hadn’t listened to my mom, I wouldn’t have gone out for the Kings. And then where would I be? I wouldn’t have met you, I know that for sure.”
“That would almost be as tragic as this tattoo.”
“It’s not that bad. You know, the skull’s a little symbolic. That version of yourself is now dead and gone. And here you are. Ty Brewster. Living the dream.” She giggles and pokes one of the eye sockets of the skull, honing in on a specific target. “Veiny.”
Her comment breaks my daze, and my pulse rockets as I realize her warm hands are still wrapped firmly around my forearm. In a second flat, I’m slipping it from her hold and raising it above my head before she can snatch it back.
“Watch it,” I say, amused.
“What is that one? What’s that say?” She thrusts a finger into the black scribble on my inner bicep.
I step back, tucking my arm into my chest. “It’s a saying.”
“That says what?” Another hiccup.
“Weather the storm. That’s all it says.” I drop my arm to my side, inching back toward the counter, right next to her. “Your turn.”
“My turn what?”
“I show you mine, you show me yours. Surely you have at least one tattoo.”
She shakes her head, beaming at me. “Almost got one once, but I’m too indecisive, if you can believe it.”
I smirk.
She sighs. “People have always told me it’s not a good thing to be that way. But I think it saved me this time. Do you want to know what I was going to permanently ink on my body?”
I lean forward, suddenly desperate to be closer, to feel even just a fragment of the excitement that’s rolling off her.
She leans in too, her eyes bright as they lock in on mine. “A hippo.”
“A hippo?”
She giggles at my reaction. “One time after I’d just turned eighteen, my sister called me a hippo as an insult. I’d accidentally stretched out one of her tops. Not very nice of her, I know. So to prove a point, I was gonna get it tattooed on my hip. A hippo on my hip. Ha!”
My eyes draw down to where she lifts the edge of her tank top, exposing her smooth skin. I swallow hard as the other hand finds the spot, her fingers dancing over the bare patch.
“Right here.” She lifts her hip to show me as though my eyes aren’t cemented to her every move. “I was young and dramatic. Hippo isn’t half as bad as some of the other things I’ve been called, but those are all stories I’ve tried to forget.”
I don’t respond, I can’t. Because now my gaze is tracing her smooth legs, and I know I’ve had one too many drinks because I’m not even being a little bit subtle about it.
“Ty?”
“Yes?”
Avery’s finger finds my chin, lifting my face until our eyes meet again. “What are you looking at?”
I step back, crossing my arms over my chest. My cheeks are hot, and I can’t pinpoint exactly why.
From the bourbon? The fact that I just shamelessly drank up Avery’s body right in front of her?
Who knows. If there’s one thing for certain I've learned tonight, it’s that every chaotic scrap of Avery I discover only makes me want more. I want more of Avery.
I lean into my shamelessness, throwing a Hail Mary. “Just thinking about how you could make anything look good. Even a hippo.”
Now it’s her turn to blush.