“I talked about it with Kass.”
Her mouth opens like she’s going to say something, but then she closes it. She drops her face into her hands and grumbles something I can’t understand.
“B," she whines.
“Lou,” I mock her tone.
“He’s gone. You have to let him go.”
“I know that,” I snap at her.
“You can’t let that be the reason you don’t let people in. I get that it was hard and that you were in a dark place after that, but trust me, you have to let it go. You’re not going to lose every person you let in. You’re not broken, you’re just scared.
You know how to love. You love me, you love Iris, you love all your friends. You protect us with your whole heart because that’s what you do for the people you love.
It doesn’t have to be him, but you have to eventually let someone in. If anything, just to prove to yourself that you can. Or to prove that you don’t need it.”
Her words hit me hard. I spent so many years forcing down the pain of losing Harlen that I didn’t even realize it might have been preventing me from connecting with other people. I’m not admitting that she’s fully right, but she’s not completely wrong.
“I hear you,” I whisper.
“Okay. I’ve said all I need to say. I’ll drop it now.” Shestands up and silently walks to the door. “I’m gonna go grab Iris and Fia, let them know they can come back.”
“Hey, Lou?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
She gives me a pained smile, the sadness she feels for me overtaking any amount of superiority she might feel for being right. “That’s what sisters are for."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TWO MONTHS LATER
KASS
I haven’t heard from B since I left her apartment, heartbroken, two months ago. I tried to call her and text her, but no luck. Eventually, I got the message and gave up. Chasing B was never going to win her back. I’ve known girls like B before. The one thing I know for sure about them is that it would be a mistake to assume you know anything about them. They’re always going to do what they want, and what they want is to remain unpredictable. The idea of conforming or being like anyone else repulses them.
So here I am, trying to get her out of my head, trying to move on. So far, it’s not going well. I’m currently tattooing a large piece on a client’s sternum, pretty close to where I was tattooing Blake. This girl is similar to her in stature and almost as pretty, but I feel nothing. I shouldn’t because I’m a professional and she’s my client, but a girl this pretty flirting with me should dosomething,right?
She winces, and I just barely save the line by pulling back.
“Would you like another break?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Keep going.”
“It’s really not a big deal if you need a break.”
“I’m okay. I just need something to distract me.”
“I can turn the TV on for you if you’ve changed your mind about that.”
“No, just tell me a story or something.” Her fingers graze down my arm. Okay, she’s definitely flirting with me.
The image of Blake lying under me like this, getting her tattoo flashes in my mind. The memory of her falling asleep makes me laugh internally and smile outwardly.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about that’s making you smile like that.”
