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He makes that hmm, interesting nod of his. The one he makes when he's figured something out.
I pretend like I don't notice. "You have a costume picked out?"
"Of course."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Reveal my secret before the big night? I don't think so."
"It's like a wedding dress?"
He nods exactly.
"Only everyone is the groom?"
"And my bride already knows."
"Oh?" I ask. "You trying to convince Daisy to come down?"
He shakes his head. "We're doing a couples thing. Her at Berkeley. Me here. If she calls me from the train station to say she's on her way, I'll pick her up. But we have our deal."
Right. He agreed he wouldn't ask her to come home until after Thanksgiving. And that he'd only come up once a month her first semester. To give her time to get used to her new home.
It must be torture, being that far away from her.
I'm fifteen feet from Ollie and I can't stand it.
"And you?" Holden slides off the counter. "Have a costume?"
"Still brainstorming," I say.
"Doesn't sound like you."
"Distracting time."
"Mm-hmm." His eyes flit to Oliver. "Distracting men in here."
I clear my throat.
"I don't imagine you're here to ask about my party?"
"No. Just to see your beautiful face," I say. "It's already made my night."
He makes a show of playing shy. "Give you something to think about later?"
"Exactly. Who else would be at the top of my spank bank? Besides my best friend's boyfriend?"
"That's how you like it. Off-limits." He raises a brow, daring me to go on.
I don't. "No." I press my hand to his chest. Make a show of pretending I want him. "It's just you, baby. That's how irresistible you are."
He laughs yeah right as he takes a step backward. But he doesn't quite hide his discomfort.
The thought of being with another woman? Of fucking shit up with Daisy? Or is he just better on offense?
I'm not sure. But all I need is retreat.
"You here for Oliver?" he asks.
"We do live together," I say.
"How is that going?"
I shrug like everything is business as usual. "He's quiet."
"Plays all that grunge music?"
"Of course."
"Complains when you play eighties jams?"
"Haven't tried many eighties jams," I say.
"You're missing out."
"Am I?"
He nods oh yeah. "Great way to torture him. Play The Cure. Then tell him it's way better than Nirvana. Watch him hulk out." His gaze flits to Ollie. "Well, by Oliver standards."
"Good tip. Thanks."
Holden nods sure thing. Motions to Oliver finishing up with his client. Then for us to move aside.
All the way to the instant coffee maker.
Okay… that's weird.
I look to Oliver for a clue, but he's busy with his client.
And Holden is here. In a semi-private space. Trying to tell me something. Or ask something. Or figure something out.
"What's up?" I ask.
"What's up?" He laughs okay, sure. "You think you're subtle?"
"Hmmm?"
"Luna, I know what a woman in need looks like."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You do. We both know you do."
Maybe.
"It doesn't bother me. Even if it makes him a fucking hypocrite. But we both know Daisy—"
"Yeah."
"So… how was it?" he asks.
"Excuse me?"
"Like you don't want to tell someone." He raises a brow. "I know you and Daisy. You tell each other everything. And now you can't tell her shit."
"I don't give her details about guys." Not explicit ones.
"Bullshit."
"Why do you care?"
"You must be dying to spill." He leans in to whisper. "So… how was it?"
"Are you serious?"
He nods yeah. "You think I can't keep a secret?"
I motion a little.
He shrugs suit yourself. "If you change your mind." He motions to his cell. Then to his suite in the front. "You know where to find me."
Holden looks to Oliver as he walks his client out. Joins the two of us.
"This guy giving you trouble?" Ollie asks.
"Just the usual." I shoot Holden a don't look.
He nods of course. For all his issues, the guy knows how to play along. "Heard you're getting some new ink. Can't believe you didn't ask me." He bows his head in the ultimate display of mock sadness. "You're breaking my heart."
"Uh-huh," I say.
Ollie chuckles. It's easy. Like he's not worried about Holden catching on.
"You gonna do it now?" Holden asks. "Can I watch?"
"How did he make that sexual?" I ask.
"It's a gift." Oliver nods.
"He's gonna hold a giant needle to your skin to mark you permanently," Holden says. "How is it not sexual?"
"It's a little phallic, yeah," I say.
"And that design… pretty badass, Luna. Is this your first?" he asks.
"Yeah." I bite my lip.
"A virgin too." Holden smiles. "Always love to see a virgin. But I'll leave you to it." He winks at me. So it's clear I know he means to the actual fucking. "See you Saturday night."
Holden nods goodbye to the shop and takes his leave.
The room quiets. Only the hum of Pearl Jam and the buzz of a tattoo gun.
"Patrick?" I ask.
