“Maybe you could come to another show?” he asked, leaning forward. “We’re going to be in Montgomery next weekend. That’s only about four hours. Maybe you guys could make that show, you know, to give your friend another shot at seeing Trey?”
I didn’t think it was a good idea to be making plans with Mav without setting some ground rules. “What’s your angle, Stone?”
He shook his head, looking amused. “I love that you’re still a straight-shooter. I never have to wonder what you’re thinking or where I stand with you.”
“No, you don’t.” I took a sip of my water, wishing for something stronger. I hadn’t had the urge to drink in a long time, and I knew I wouldn’t tonight, but sitting across from Mav made me forget that I had years of sobriety under my belt, and that could be dangerous.
“So?”
“Let’s just get it out there. I’m not going to sleep with you. Ever. I’m not interested in dating you, so don’t think that’s what this is.”
He raised his hand. “Hey, I’m not stupid enough to try and label it. I’m just glad you agreed to meet me.”
“We can’t be friends,” I continued, mentally listing all the ways he couldn’t worm his way back into my life. “I won’t be your sponsor. So, that doesn’t leave you any other options, does it?”
He bit his lip, studying me intently. “You could be my tattoo artist though, couldn’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you’re not in the habit of turning away paying clients, are you?” Before I could respond, he crossed his forearms and leaned in closer. “I had most of this done ten or twelve years ago. The guy was a bit of a hack, to be honest. I couldn’t afford anyone really good at the time, but now I’m thinking it might be time to up my game. What do you think? Could you help me out?”
I wanted to give him a million reasons why I couldn’t, but the artist in me loved a challenge and making all of his dark lines crisper, while expanding the tattoos and adding color, appealed to me.
He grinned, pointing at me. “You want to, I can tell. You’re offended by this shitty work and want to fix it.”
I would never disparage another tattoo artist. That wasn’t my style, but I’d had to ‘fix’ a lot of old school tattoos every day that made me shake my head in disgust. “I could probably make it better. What’d you have in mind?” The idea of Mav walking around with a reminder of me and my work permanently etched on his body gave me a thrill I wasn’t willing to dissect.
“I don’t know. Why don’t I snap a couple of pics later and text them to you. Maybe you could work up some sketches for me, give me some options?”
“I guess I could.” I was typically booked up months in advance, but I’d been known to squeeze in friends after hours. Not that Mav and I were friends. Or ever would be. But tattooing high profile people, actors, musicians, or business tycoons, never hurt my career.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Luc and Marisa Spencer?”
I frowned. “Why would I mention them? We probably know a lot of the same people. I live and work in Nashville. A lot of my clients are high-profile. Some of them have become friends. It’s not a big deal.”
He studied me for a few seconds before leaning back in the booth to put some distance between us. “I can’t believe how… different you are.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know.” He was obviously searching for the right word before he finally said, “You’ve got an edge that you didn’t have before.”
“I wonder why,” I whispered. But I didn’t want him to think he’d played a role in the woman I’d become, so I added, “I was just a kid when we knew each other. I’ve grown up a lot since then. I’m sure you have too.”
“Sometimes I still feel like a stupid kid, to be honest.”
I’d always appreciated Mav’s honesty, his vulnerability. Apparently country music fans did too, because it seemed to be those qualities that made his songs hits.
“We probably all feel that way sometimes, especially in the early days of sobriety.” I waited until the waitress delivered our food and we’d thanked her before I continued. “I once heard someone in a meeting say that if we started drinking when we were young, our growth was kind of stunted at that stage. We never really matured beyond that, until we started to work the steps. That really stuck with me. It made a lot of sense because I repeatedly saw grown-ass people in meetings acting like teenagers who forgot to grow up.”
“Exactly,” he said, curling his hand around his water glass. “That’s exactly the way I feel sometimes.” He cleared his throat before he said, “It’s cool to talk to someone who gets it, Codie. Who getsme. Thanks.”
I took a bite of my burger instead of responding. I was speaking in general terms, not trying to solve my ex or his problems.
“So, you and Austin…?”
I tamped down my frustration. He had no right to delve into my personal life, and I had no reason to get pissed that he was. If he meant nothing to me anymore, which I’d always claimed, I should be able to sit across the table from him and feel nothing. So why the hell was I still feeling… so much?
“What about us?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin.
