Page 126 of Spring Break Fling

“So, you going to tell me what happened between you and Hannah?” he asked after a few minutes. “I know something did.”

I took another long pull of my beer, the bottle cold against my palm. “She got offered a job in New York. Big corporate gig. Exactly the kind of thing she’s been working toward.”

Diego leaned back, watching me carefully. “And that’s bad because...?”

“Because it means she’s not moving to Miami like we planned. She decided there is no us. She wanted me to move to New York with her, but that’s not my world. I’m not a corporate guy. I’m a tattoo artist. New York would eat me alive. And a long-distance thing, which is what she suggested, is just prolonging the inevitable. It would never work. I know that and I think she does too. She just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“So, you broke up with her?” Diego’s tone was neutral, but I could see the judgment brewing in his eyes.

“I didn’t break up with her,” I said defensively. “I walked away. If she wants to go to New York, so be it. She can go. I’m not going to follow.”

Diego snorted. “Sounds like a breakup to me. Sounds like you needed an excuse to bail out of another relationship.”

I stared into my beer, Diego’s words hitting uncomfortably close to home. “It’s not like that,” I muttered.

“Isn’t it?” Diego pressed. “You’ve got a pattern, Nikko. The moment things get serious, you find a way to sabotage it. Which is fine with most of the losers you date, but Hannah was nice.”

I slammed my beer down harder than necessary. “I didn’t sabotage anything. Hannah chose her career over me.”

Diego raised an eyebrow. “Did she? Or did you give her an impossible choice?”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s over. She’s in New York. Probably moved into a fancy apartment in a building that touches the clouds. We wouldn’t have worked anyway. She’s uptown, I’m not. It was fun while it lasted.”

He nodded and thankfully said nothing more on the subject. “Marcus decided to press charges against Samantha for trashing the shop.”

“No shit?” I said, eyebrows shooting up.

“Yep. She’s getting charged with vandalism and destruction of property. Her boyfriend posted bail, but she’s still got a court date. She’ll probably get community service, but it’s something at least.”

I took another swig of beer. “Karma’s a bitch. Samantha in a reflective vest picking up garbage on the side of the road? That would be something to celebrate.”

Diego kissed his fingertips and spread them. “Chef’s kiss, my dude. Pure poetic justice.”

I chuckled. “That actually makes me feel a little better about the dumpster fire my life’s been lately. That woman tried to fuck my life up.”

“She succeeded.”

“Well, yeah, I guess she did.” I shook my head. “But I’m glad she’s getting some payback.”

Diego nodded and chuckled. “And get this—Jessie blew a gasket the other day. She told Marcus she might quit because she ‘can’t handle our douche-baggery’ without you around.”

I snorted. “Sounds like Jessie.”

“She said you balanced us out,” Diego added. “Apparently, we’re insufferable without your ‘wise, muscly ways.’ Her words, not mine.”

“Wise, muscly ways,” I repeated, shaking my head. “That’s a new one. I never considered myself wise. A smartass, but wise is not a word I think anyone has ever used to describe me.”

Diego’s expression turned more serious. “You ever think about coming back? Marcus isn’t the type to hold grudges, man. A conversation might be all it takes.”

I leaned back, chewing on the idea. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve been drawing a lot since I got back. Got some attention from galleries and other shops, but…” I shrugged, letting the sentence trail off.

“But what?” Diego pressed.

“But I’m not sure I want to change directions right now,” I said. “Hannah—she told me I could make it on my own. Start my own thing. But that feels like a lot. I don’t know the first thing about starting a business. That seems like a lot of commitment.”

Diego scoffed. “Nikko, you’ve got talent coming out of your ass. What’s stopping you?”

“Comfort zone, maybe,” I said, swirling the beer in my glass. “Or fear of failure. Take your pick.”