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I wish this was as simple as finding a hot rebound fuck.
Why can’t it be that simple?
Dean moves to the desk. Crouches to rifle through a drawer. “Hunter is filling in for Brendon while he’s away.”
“Oh.” Figures my hypothetical rebound also works at Inked Hearts. Not that it matters. Nothing is going to help me get over Dean. Not even the hottest guy in the world.
Dean stands. Places a thin stack of papers on the desk. “You gonna shrug off that chip on your shoulder?”
Hunter meets him there. Half-smiles. “You gonna be serious for five minutes?”
Dean shudders. “Never.”
“There’s your answer.” Hunter’s voice is playful, but there’s an honesty to it too. He knows he’s miserable.
But he’s not like Ryan. Well, pre-Leighton Ryan.
He doesn’t seem okay with it.
They go through the paperwork quietly. Then Dean backs off to let Hunter read.
The broody tattoo artist—he must be an artist if he’s filling in for Brendon—signs on the dotted line.
Dean’s eyes flit to me. “You can head home, sunshine.”
“But…” I want to stay here. I want to eavesdrop on their conversation. To know what Dean is saying about me. If he’s saying anything about me.
Guys talk.
Not the way girls do.
Dean’s not about to pour his heart out.
But maybe he’ll spill some detail I need.
I can’t leave yet.
I can’t be home.
I can’t face tomorrow.
Dean’s blue eyes fix on mine.
"You gonna be okay until then, sunshine?"
Not a chance in hell. But I smile a yes anyway.
Aikido fails to wipe tomorrow from my mind.
It's late enough traffic is clear. But I can't be home yet. I can't sit across from Dad as he asks if I'm ready for tomorrow. I can't listen to that edge in his voice. The one he's trying to hide. The one that screams I'll fall apart if you aren't okay.
I pull out my cell. Tap a text message to Gia. But then it's the same with her. If she knows I'm scared, she'll be scared. Then I'll be pissed at her for being scared. For putting her inability to deal with my mortality on me.
This is a routine test. It's probably okay.
She can tell me that.
But if it's not…?
