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He wanted that potential to have a real future back.
He wanted all the things he thought they could have. The things they could have been. That rightness. He’d never felt that with Sarah. Or anyone.
Bella was it. And she was gone.
So, where the hell did that leave him?
CHAPTER 18
Bella
After a few weeks of moping around, it was clearly obvious to everyone that something wasn’t right. Bella thought she was doing a good job of hiding the aching gaping hole in her chest but clearly, she was only fooling herself. Or so Rick’s crossed arms and his suspicious stare, including the famous stern left eyebrow that only ever lifted when he was pissed off or concerned, told her.
“What’s up, Bella? Clearly, something’s wrong.” Rick’s arms bulged out of his t-shirt. His chest rippled with muscle. He was a fine specimen and if they didn’t work together, she might have given him half a chance. If he was interested. Which he wasn’t. Rick liked to focus on work and that was pretty much all his life consisted of. When he wasn’t working at the shop tattooing people, he was at home drawing. He probably dreamed about drawing and designs and tattoos in his sleep.
Bella shook her head. She plastered on a smile that made her face ache and leaned back in the reception chair. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Everything’s fine.” She glanced around the shop like maybe Rick was talking about something she’d forgotten to do, a mess on the floor that needed to be swept, or one of the paintings or pieces of art that needed to be straightened out because a customer knocked it crooked. No such luck. The place was immaculate.
Rick gave one of those irritated snorts he reserved for customers that started moaning and groaning and writhing like Armageddon was upon them in the first fifteen minutes of their tattoo. He pegged her with one of his famous stares. His left brow twitched. “Something is definitely wrong. I can tell.”
“Mind telling me what it is then?” Bella finally looked Rick straight in the eye, hoping he’d believe her. No such luck round two.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. I can tell something’s up. You’re not yourself. You look tired. You look sad. You look like some asshat broke your heart and that pisses me the hell off- and the rest of the guys here too- and we would have no trouble kicking his ass for you if you give us the address.”
“As much as I would like a good gang bang-er gang pound- er- gang ass beat down, you’re wrong. No one broke my heart. That isn’t even possible. I’d have to fall in love with someone first and god knows that isn’t possible.”
Rick’s eyebrow did that twitch jump itch thing again. “No? Last time I checked, you had one. You like to pretend that you’re tough. You might have a thick skin, but even the thickest skin is still able to be punctured. Trust me. I make my living by poking art into people’s skin. I haven’t met a hide too thick to be pierced yet.”
“And you’ve even tattooed me.”
“Right. So that’s how I know for sure I’m not out to lunch here.” Rick paused. “Look. If you don’t want to talk about it, I get it. That’s alright. I just want you to know that we’re here for you if you need anything. None of us like to see you upset.”
“Was Nicole in on the ass-kicking as well?” Bella forced another smile, though it had a little authenticity to it. Nicole was the only lady artist at the shop, and damn, she was tough. She also did piercings and rocked probably a hundred herself. Some visible. Some not.
Rick winked. “You bet.”
“Well, I’m okay. Thanks for worrying about me though. I’m good. Just- maybe it’s because the weather has been so shitty lately. Always grey and gloomy. We never see the sun anymore. Maybe I’m running low on Vitamin D. Or maybe I need to get my iron levels checked. I have been tired lately, but I chalked it up to the clouds.”
That left eyebrow went nuts. “Okay… well- I’m just going to ask you one more time. If it’s your family bugging you, I can’t do anything about that, but tell you that you’re stuck with them for life, so you either need to tell them to piss off or you need to sit down and hash it out.”
“I can imagine fist fighting my sisters. That would be fun.”
“I wasn’t talking about hashing it out with your fists. Though that would be quite amusing. If you end up getting in a catfight with them, make sure you film it. It would probably go viral and some sites pay for good content. You could get rich.”
