Inked Page 13

  “Stay the fuck away from Lou,” I said as calmly as possible. “I need to go. How much do I owe you for the ink, Amanda?”

  “Nothing,” she muttered. “This time it’s on me.”

  “No. I’m not going to not pay you. But we’ll sort it out another day. I’m sorry, I’ve got to take a raincheck on lunch.”

  “That’s fine.”

  I was done here. Honestly, I didn’t like the way Amanda wasn’t interjecting and asking Finn a million questions, the same million questions I wanted to demand of him. It meant that maybe she had spoken about Lou with him before. The few things I’d told her about Lou had been in confidence. She shouldn’t have shared anything she knew with Finn. I needed to get home and find out from her what this was all about.

  “I’ll see you in bed later tonight,” I said to Amanda, not entirely sure I would.

  Then I left.

  I left so fast I felt the world spin.

  * * *

  Back at the house, things were calm. Between staying every night at Amanda’s and all my recent job hunting and volunteering, I hadn’t seen much of Lou lately. I shopped for her groceries. I checked in on her. But mostly, I assumed she was fine on her own—inside. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe a guy like Finn had been coming around and she needed me to get him to back the fuck off.

  I took the deck steps two at a time, pushing open the front door in a rush. Lou was standing in the kitchen, eating cereal from a bowl. I opened the door so fast I startled her, and she dropped the bowl to the floor. Milk and Fruit Loops went everywhere.

  “Nick!” she screeched.

  “What’s going on with Finn?” I demanded.

  “Who? Who’s Finn?”

  I could hear it. The lie in her voice. She knew who Finn was. She definitely did. We’d only had about fifty conversations about him and Amanda. Speculations over him being the father to my child or not. Since I found out Finn wasn’t the father, we’d stopped talking about him altogether. But I knew she hadn’t forgotten his name in the short time since that discovery.

  Right that moment, someone knocked on my front door.

  For a split second, I thought it might have been Amanda following after me, coming to explain. It wasn’t her. The intruder announced themselves.

  “Knock. Knock,” said a familiar voice. “Nick, honey. Lou? It’s Mom.”

  My mom, out of nowhere, let herself right into my house. What the hell was she doing here all the way from Maine? But I wasn’t too surprised to see my mom suddenly standing in my house. She’d always come, visit me by surprise like this when I was in college.

  “Mom?”

  “Mrs. Jasmine?” Lou asked.

  “Hi, kids! Surprise. I brought some moon pies.” She held up what looked like a plastic cupcake container full of her favorite kind of cookie/pie, the only one she loved making and bringing as a gift. Had she driven? Had she flown? She could have called, but that wasn’t her style. “Samantha’s with me.” Samantha was Mick’s thirteen-year-old stepdaughter. “She’s bringing in more stuff from the car.” Mom came over and wrapped her strong arms around my shoulders, squeezing me like we hadn’t seen each other in a couple years.

  “Perfect timing, Mom,” I said against her perfectly styled blonde hair. “Perfect timing. As usual. But it’s good to see you.”

  She let me go. She had tears in her eyes. That was just Mom’s way. She was always overwhelmed with joy whenever she first saw me. She gave Lou a hug next, and I watched Lou squirm and wiggle in agony as she did it.

  Well, this was going to be loads of fucking fun. I had Lou’s situation to figure out. I had everything with Amanda I needed to keep pursuing. Now I had Mom staying in my house. I hadn’t mentioned to my parents I had a new girlfriend. If that’s what Amanda was. I hadn’t mentioned I had a baby on the way. Those were things that weren’t so easy to bring up in conversation. But since Mom was here… I guess, no time like the present.

  “Guess what,” I said to her. “I have a girlfriend.”

  “Guess what,” Lou echoed. “I think I might have a boyfriend.”

  Fuck. I buried my face in my hands.

  “I can’t wait to meet them both!” Mom squealed. These were like magic words to a mother. “Let’s have them both over for dinner tonight.”

  “Hell. No.”

  “Please, Nick,” Mom said. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “No. Just no. Lou doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “How do you know I don’t?” Lou interjected.

  I had to step away. Between the two of them, I was going to get pushed over the edge, bring on too much stress that might lead to my next panic attack.

  ~ CHAPTER 37 ~

  AMANDA

  Nick was gone. He’d left in such a hurry too. I could tell Finn merely mentioning Lou’s name had upset him. It upset him more than maybe it should have. Which might have been a little concerning, but I honestly knew so little about Lou that it was impossible to judge Nick’s reaction—if it was an overreaction or a justified reaction, I didn’t know. It bugged me that I didn’t know.

  “What the hell?” I yelled at Finn once Nick was long gone. I slapped Finn’s big, tattooed, muscular arm. “Seriously? What was that about?”

  “What do you know about Lou?”

  “What do you know about her?” I threw back at him.

  The only thing I knew about Lou was that she lived with Nick and that she had agoraphobia. Oh, and not to mention, she was insanely fucking beautiful. I’d only seen her the one time, in this shop, when she’d walked in with him and had a hoodie over her long blonde hair. Finn saw her that day, too. I wondered now about Nick’s relationship with her. He hadn’t mentioned her since that very first night I went over to his house, when he said she had agoraphobia and that she was like a sister to him. I’d believed him completely, and that was that. So I’d never had reason to question him until now.

  Finn let out a big breath. “She’s different. She’s funny about space and people. She’s fucking smart, like book smart, but also completely clueless about the littlest things. Like maybe she grew up with the Amish or something.”

  “Wait. Wait. Go back. But how do you know her, Finn? Like why do you know her at all?” I questioned him slowly. I moved across the front lobby and sat down on one of John’s precious brown leather couches. I motioned for Finn to follow. The morning was catching up with me. I’d pushed myself to complete Nick’s tattoo, pushed myself maybe a little too hard, when that sort of work was starting to become harder and harder for me lately.

  My back was sore. My arms were sore.

  Finn moved over to the couches with me. There was a customer waiting, possibly on John, possibly on Finn, and she sat on the opposite couch. I really didn’t care if she heard any of this. “How do you know her?” I repeated.

  “I went over to Nick’s rental house. I did a little detective work to get his address. Because earlier at work that day you seemed off. I think I’d asked you that morning if everything was good. You said everything was fine like ten times. Which, after your dad died, you used to always say ‘fine, everything is fine,’ all the fucking time. And I don’t think anything was fine for you after he died. So I went over to Nick’s house later that night after I’d stewed on it all day. I knocked on his door. Felt like an idiot because your car wasn’t even in his driveway. But there were lights on, and then I figured since I’d gone all the way over to his house that I might as well confront him. Hell. Fuck.” Finn pushed his fingers through the strands of his hair. “Maybe even tell that asshole I wasn’t the baby’s father. Because him believing that I was, was really starting to fucking eat me up.”

  “Crap,” I whispered. “Finn, I’m sorry I—”

  “No, it’s whatever. Lou tells me he knows now. That you told him like days back, so that’s good. Good for you guys. Anyway, so I knock on the door. It’s her voice on the other side. Lou and I talked through the door for a while. She said he was staying at your place instead of you at
his. Long story short, I’ve been going there and talking to that girl through her damn door every single night since.”

  I stared at him, at the little wrinkle between his eyebrows. “The only thing I know about her is that she has agoraphobia,” I told him. I said it because if Finn was starting to fall for this girl, which it seemed like maybe he was, then he deserved to know that much.

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  “Oh. I guess you know more about her than me.”

  “I guess.” He sat back on the leather, breathing in deeply. “I fucked up earlier though with Nick; I’ll admit that. I guess, when I said Lou’s name to him, I wasn’t necessarily after information. I can get information from the source. I guess, I just wanted Nick to know I knew her. I wanted you both to know something was happening between us. Maybe if you all knew, it would feel more real. Something like that. I don’t know. I approached the situation all wrong though. I know I did.”

  I’d never seen this side to Finn. He seemed concerned but also calm. Very levelheaded and calm. He joked, he laughed, he talked a lot. But talking about the women he dated… he usually didn’t do much of that.

  “Okay.” I stood up. “So should we go over there? Go to Nick’s house. See them both.”

  “No. Hell, no. That’s not how Lou and I work. Just, you keep doing your thing with Nick. I’ll keep doing my thing with Lou. We’ll leave it at that for now. We don’t have to all be friends, go on double dates, and shit.”

  Finn stood. He moved past me.

  “Okay,” I muttered to myself.

  I still didn’t like the way Nick had left the shop earlier. We’d been having such a good day, and the way it had abruptly ended made my stomach feel a little nauseated. But I didn’t have much time to think on those feelings because at that second the phone to the shop rang. Finn had just disappeared down the hall, and I didn’t know where Patrick was today. So I had no choice, I grabbed the phone to answer it.

  “Thanks for calling Kill Devil Ink. This is Amanda. What can I help you with?”

  “This is Nick.”

  “Oh,” I whispered, clutching the big plastic phone in my hand. “I um… hi.”

  “Hey, sorry about earlier. I’m glad you’re still there. I’m glad I caught you. I don’t have your phone number. I don’t think you have mine either. We need to fix that. So, Lou’s in some kind of denial and thinks Finn is her boyfriend. But that’s not why I called. Want to still meet for lunch? I’m not feeling well enough to go out for it though. I thought maybe we could meet at your house. We could have lunch there?”

  My heart was pounding. Nick’s voice against my ear had the organ beating around like a possessed drum inside my chest. He’d only ever seen the inside of my house when it was the middle of the night. What would he think if he saw it for what it really was in the light of day? We’d also never hung out like this so casually.

  But I wanted it.

  I needed it, even.

  “Sure. Meet me there in thirty minutes. Does that work?”

  “Perfect. I’ll bring the food. Bye, Amanda.”

  “Bye, Nick.”

  I hung up the phone. Then I left. The girl, the lone customer, was still sitting on the couch and she looked at me as I left, all annoyed, but I hardly cared about her. I hardly cared about much right this moment except meeting Nick at my house.

  ~ CHAPTER 38 ~

  NICK

  Amanda’s house was small and dated. I’d only ever seen it in the pitch black of the night, meaning I’d basically never seen it. But today I saw the inside in full light.

  The furniture she owned was stuffed into the house a little awkwardly, sort of like trying to pack an extra crayon into the crayon box. There were many framed pictures on the wall, a lot of them nautical. Then there was Amanda. Her pink hair was a contrast to the neutral colors of her home. But even if the home was small, there was something I loved about her place. It had a cozy, comfortable, homey feel, and something, it was hard to put my finger on, screamed her name.

  I let myself in the same way I always did at night. And I found her sitting cross-legged on her couch with a sketch pad in her lap. She set it aside when she saw me. This version of her inside her home was one I wasn’t familiar with. Not yet, at least.

  “How’s your ass?” she said to me.

  “On fire, actually, thanks.” On her coffee table, made of solid stained-gray oak, I set down the takeout bag I’d brought with me. It was so far past lunch time by this point, and I hoped she’d already eaten a little something by now.

  “You still have on the bandaging, right?”

  “I haven’t touched it.”

  “Tonight you can take it off. Then wash it the way I told you before. You have the mild, fragrance free kind of soap, right? Then—”

  “Amanda,” I cut her off. “I know.”

  “It’s just—”

  “I know. You’ve explained this a couple times now. Not my first tattoo anymore.”

  “Okay.” She gave me a small, shy smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I returned.

  Fuck, one word from her and warmth flooded my body. She had that effect on me.

  “What’d you get?” She reached to peek inside the takeout bag. I sat down carefully on her solid-wood coffee table. My ass really was on fire. Sitting wasn’t comfortable.

  “I went to the key lime pie place.” I shrugged, taking her in some more. She was in a white tank top, her pink hair hit the ink on her shoulders, and her little bit of stomach showing was cute as hell.

  “You got me key lime pie?”

  “I did.”

  I was really enjoying this moment. It was calm in her house. Being around her—it was like a warm summer day back home in Maine, the breeze blowing past the curtains, the sunshine streaming in. That was what her home felt like—seeing her sitting on her couch, pregnant and all—it felt like home. Jesus, and it was getting to me.

  She paused when she caught me staring at her. She stood. Looking down at me, she took my hand. “Come on,” she muttered. “Come with me.”

  I didn’t know what she wanted but I stood with her. I followed her as she led me through her house, deeper down the narrow, dimly lit hallway, toward her bedroom. I noticed a second bedroom I hadn’t before. I think that meant in total her place had only the two bedrooms.

  Inside her room, she softly closed her door. It clicked shut. Then she came to me, she rested her palms on my chest, and she stared up at me.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t help the smile that grew naturally on my lips. Damn. I didn’t stand a chance. I understood now why she’d dragged me back to her bedroom. What she wanted. My heart was beating like a maniac in my chest because of it. Her room smelled like her. Warm. Sweet. Maddening. It had been way too many nights sleeping in her bed, sleeping so close to her, never touching her.

  But I felt the walls crumbling away.

  I moved my hands to her neck. Her skin felt so damn good, so soft under my fingertips. I made a noise deep in my throat, pushing my forehead to hers. “You have me,” I said to her softly. My voice came out raw, a little gritty. “I don’t know if you know that. Fuck, you probably do already know that. But I’m yours.”

  Through her lashes, her brown eyes came to meet mine. “Don’t say stuff like that unless you mean it.”

  “I mean it.” I don’t know what I’d ever done that would give her the impression I didn’t mean it. Because I’d never meant anything more in my life.

  I moved my lips to hers. I wanted to show her just how much I meant it. I kissed her. I kissed her with all the emotions I felt pumping through my veins. Guiding her with my body, I moved her toward the bed.

  All my control—it melted away.

  ~ CHAPTER 39 ~

  AMANDA

  Nick’s hands moved in slow motion over my skin. No one had ever touched me so softly, so carefully, so unrushed. There was an entirely different air between us, reflected in the tempo he set. “Oh God, Nick,” I breathed when h
e pushed his way carefully inside me. It had been too many days since we last slept together, and my body screamed for what I knew he could give me.

  He pulled back out. All the way out. Then he guided himself back in, repeating the slow, wonderful torture. “Nick.” I moved to rest my arms above my head. “Dammit, Nick.”

  He kept with his slow way.

  Moving, gliding, in and out.

  Careful. Controlled.

  And it felt good as hell.

  But something about it terrified me. Terrified me to my core. “Harder,” I whispered. “Harder, please.”

  I knew I was all over the map. I knew I told him last time he’d been too rough. Now I wanted to tell him he was being too soft. Not because I wasn’t enjoying it. But because this was fucking stirring up way too many emotions inside me.

  He moved his hands to my neck. They were warm against my skin. He bent closer, his mouth to my ear, and he whispered, “I don’t ever want to give you the impression that we’re hate-fucking again. Or whatever you called it.”

  I had tears in my eyes.

  “Because hate isn’t what I’m feeling with you, Amanda. Not even close.”

  “What are you feeling?” I whispered.

  He stopped moving. He froze in place on top of me.

  I shouldn’t have asked.

  I shouldn’t have asked.

  I shouldn’t have asked.

  “Love.”

  His eyes met mine. He paused for a moment, then finished his thought.

  “I’m in love with you, Amanda.”

  He took a breath and rolled off me, collapsing on the bed beside me for a brief moment. But he didn’t rest for long. I knew I needed to say something, but I was finding it impossible to do much more than breathe.

  “I have to get this bandage off my ass. Its bugging the hell out of me. Do you mind if I use your shower?”